said, apparently still unsettled. “There are too many to count, really. Granted, most of them are related to one form of curse or another. . . .”
“You hugged Wit,” Adolin said.
Shallan blushed. “Was that improper?”
“It’s not about propriety,” Adolin said. “It’s about common sense. Hugging him is like hugging a whitespine or, or a pile of nails or something. I mean it’s Wit. You’re not supposed to like him.”
“We need to talk,” Shallan said, looking up at Wit. “I don’t remember everything we talked about, but some of it—”
“I’ll try to squeeze it into my schedule,” Wit said. “I’m fairly busy, though. I mean, insulting Adolin alone is going to take until sometime next week.”
Adolin shook his head, waving away the footman and helping Shallan into the carriage himself. After he did so, he leaned in to Wit. “Hands off.”
“She’s far too young for me, child,” Wit said.
“That’s right,” Adolin said with a nod. “Stick to women your own age.”
Wit grinned. “Well, that might be a little harder. I think there’s only one of those around these parts, and she and I never did get along.”
“You are so bizarre,” Adolin said, climbing into the carriage.
Kaladin sighed, then moved to follow them in.
“You intend to ride in there?” Wit asked, grin widening.
“Yeah,” Kaladin said. He wanted to watch Shallan. She wasn’t likely to try something in the open, while riding in the carriage with Adolin. But Kaladin might learn something by watching her, and he couldn’t be absolutely certain she wouldn’t try to harm him.
“Try not to flirt with the girl,” Wit whispered. “Young Adolin seems to be growing possessive. Or . . . what am I saying? Flirt with the girl, Kaladin. It might make the prince’s eyes bulge.”
Kaladin snorted. “She’s lighteyed.”
“So?” Wit asked. “You people are too fixated on that.”
“No offense,” Kaladin whispered, “but I’d sooner flirt with a chasmfiend.” He left Wit to drive the carriage, hauling himself into it.
Inside, Adolin looked toward the heavens. “You’re kidding.”
“It’s my job,” Kaladin said, seating himself next to Adolin.
“Surely I’m safe in here,” Adolin said through gritted teeth, “with my betrothed.”
“Well, maybe I just want a comfortable seat, then,” Kaladin said, nodding to Shallan Davar.
She ignored him, smiling at Adolin as the carriage started rolling. “Where are we going today?”
“Well, you said something about a dinner,” Adolin said. “I know of a new winehouse in the Outer Market, and it actually serves food.”
“You always know the best places,” Shallan said, her smile widening.
Could you be any more obvious with your flattery, woman? Kaladin thought.
Adolin smiled back. “I just listen.”
“Now if you only paid more attention to what wines were good . . .”
“I don’t because it’s easy!” He grinned. “They’re all good.”
She giggled.
Storms, lighteyes were annoying. Particularly when they fawned over one another. Their conversation continued, and Kaladin found it blatantly obvious how badly this woman wanted a relationship with Adolin. Well, that wasn’t surprising. Lighteyes were always looking for chances to get ahead—or to stab one another in the back, if they were in that mood instead. His job wasn’t to figure out if this woman was an opportunist. Every lighteyes was an opportunist. He just had to find out if she was an opportunistic fortune hunter or an opportunistic assassin.
They continued talking, and Shallan circled the conversation back toward the day’s activity.
“Now, I’m not saying I mind another winehouse,” Shallan said. “But I do wonder if those are becoming a tad too obvious a choice.”
“I know,” Adolin replied. “But there’s storming little to do out here otherwise. No concerts, no art shows, no sculpture contests.”
Is that really what you people spend your time on? Kaladin wondered. Almighty save you if you don’t have sculpture contests to watch.
“There’s a menagerie,” Shallan said, eager. “In the Outer Market.”
“A menagerie,” Adolin said. “Isn’t that a little . . . low?”
“Oh, come on. We could look at all of the animals, and you could tell me which ones you’ve bravely slaughtered while hunting. It’ll be very diverting.” She hesitated, and Kaladin thought he saw something in her eyes. A flash of something deeper. Pain? Worry? “And I could use some distraction,” Shallan added more softly.
“I actually despise hunting,” Adolin said, as if he hadn’t noticed. “No real contest to it.” He looked to Shallan, who pasted on a smile and nodded eagerly. “Well, something different could be a pleasant change. All right, I’ll tell Wit to take us there instead. Hopefully he’ll do it, instead of driving us into a chasm to laugh