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Jasnah was talking, and Renarin was trying to listen. He really was. But her hands were resting in her lap, sleeved safehand demurely atop her bare freehand, and from this angle, he could see red light peeking out from underneath the edge of the sleeve. Her Soulcaster, which had just appeared on her hand last week and which she had been wearing almost constantly ever since. Had the device been entirely concealed, he could have ignored it. As it was, he kept glancing at that light and thinking of what it meant. He found himself able to think of nothing else.
Finally, Jasnah released an exasperated sigh. Renarin jumped, eyes returning to her face -- and the unhappy look he found there. He flushed.
"I know this is a difficult time for you, cousin," Jasnah said patiently. "But if you ask me a question, I would appreciate you listening to the response."
"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at his lap and fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. He did feel bad for ignoring her, but she was right: this was a difficult time, months after the rest of their family had gone to the Shattered Plains. Even Jasnah's mother Navani had left. Jasnah had elected to stay behind. Renarin had been left behind, despite his pleading to go. That almost bothered him more than them being gone; he was thirteen, too old to stay back with the women while the men went to war. Ostensibly, he had stayed so Dalinar could maintain, through his son, some semblance of a presence in the city. Really, it was because his father didn't want him at the warcamp. As Dalinar had explained, he was too sickly for travel and not needed. Not wanted, his treacherous mind had corrected. Either way, he was lonely. So, he had asked Jasnah whether she thought he might get to go soon.
And then not paid attention to the answer. He glanced up at Jasnah, trying to guess her emotions, but her face was unreadable. He looked away again.
It had been less than a year since his uncle's murder by the man now known as the Assassin in White. A bounty on the killer's head had been put out, then increased more than once over the months it had gone unclaimed. Renarin hated to think what it could mean if the man's trail went cold. He still vividly remembered that night, hiding in Adolin's room -- because the safest place if the Shardbearing assassin attacked was with another Shardbearer -- unsure if he would live through the night.
Even then, he wasn't as scared of the assassin as he was now of Jasnah's steady, teacherly tone as she continued speaking.
"To answer your question again--" he flinched at the way she said that word-- "I think it is quite clear that this war will continue beyond the current official estimates. As the expected timeframe has already been extended once, Elhokar and your father will want to soften the blow this time. They will bring you to the Shattered Plains, and allow news of your arrival to spread and conclusions to be drawn. The potential effect of travel upon your health means they would not have you brought there unless they expect to be there for a long time; therefore, doing so will allow the obvious assumption to spread. Doubtless, they will delay until it becomes necessary, but they know they can only push it back so far. Do you understand?"
"...Yes?" Jasnah had such a flattering view about his intelligence, and he despised the prospect of changing that.
She paused, then allowed her lips to pull upward into a slight smile, and her voice grew more gentle. "To put it simply, they must play the game of politics, but I would expect the request to come soon for you to go. Is that a satisfactory answer?"
"Yes," he said, far more confidently. "Thank you."
Jasnah's smile grew a little bit -- not so much as to look like her perfect composure was cracking, but enough to be noticeable -- then faded as his eyes, unbidden, flicked back down to that ruby glow.
"Alright," she said suddenly, holding up her freehand to show off the fabrial. It was pretty, glowing with soft tricolor light against her skin. "Since you listened to me that time, I will give you one question about the Soulcaster. Make the most of it."
Renarin started at the offer. Lots of people had asked her about the device in the past several days, and she had refused to answer most questions. He found it incredible she was offering answers. But as rarely as she answered questions she didn't like, she made jokes even more rarely, so he decided to believe her.
He briefly considered checking that she would, in fact, actually answer whatever he asked, but he was afraid she would count that as his one question, so he decided to ask something else that had occurred to him some time ago. "Why don't you ever take it off?"
Jasnah raised an eyebrow, her only concession to surprise. He stifled a smile of triumph at having asked something she clearly wasn't expecting.
Fortunately, she recovered quickly and responded. "I... want to get used to wearing it. And I want other people to get used to me wearing it. Besides, I could need it at any time. Keeping it with me is convenient, and wearing it is more comfortable than putting something so heavy in my pocket or safepouch." She paused, glancing down at the Soulcaster. "Now that most people are becoming accustomed to it, I have been thinking of covering it with a glove on my freehand. I don't want anybody to think I'm just showing it off, after all. Do you think a glove would help?"
The question caused Renarin to freeze. Not because he didn't know how to answer -- of course a glove would help -- but because of the way she asked it. There was something strange in her voice, a more consciously measured cadence than normal, as though it was taking too much effort not to trip over her words. The unsubtle attempt to change the topic also gave him pause.
Did she merely dislike being questioned about the Soulcaster, even by him, so much that she was desperate to talk about something else? But she had only allowed him to ask one question. He frowned, wondering what he should say.
The thought became moot when a knock sounded at the door. Both of them glanced over as an anxious-looking guard poked his head inside.
"Brightness," he said. "Highmarshal Amaram is here and asking to speak with you."
Jasnah's jaw tightened. She looked at Renarin just long enough to roll her eyes without the guard seeing, then turned back. "Is it an emergency?"
The guard disappeared for a moment, then came back. "He has a gift for you."
This time, she made no effort to hide her eye roll as pink irritationspren burst into being around her head. She took a breath and waited for them to disappear before speaking. "Let him in."
"Yes, Brightness." His tone was cautiously impassive, presumably because Amaram could hear him, but he gave Jasnah an apologetic look before disappearing again. A moment later, Meridas Amaram swept into the room with a wide smile and something in his hands.
"Jasnah!" he exclaimed, proffering his gift to her. "I couldn't leave town without bringing these to you."
Renarin leaned forward to look at what he was holding: a bundle of long, slender... things... with green stems and delicate, colorful tops, mostly purple and blue, the stems bound together with an intricately tied yellow ribbon. Flowers, he realized. He had rarely seen any that looked like that. They didn't grow in Alethkar.
Jasnah rose to her feet, crossing the room to Amaram with obvious reluctance. She didn't look at him, though, staring balefully at the flowers. "Are those from Shinovar?"
"They... are." Amaram seemed perplexed by the question, or perhaps just by the lack of a greeting, but he swiftly collected himself and continued. "I came across a florist with plants from all over the world, including these. I saw these wonderful purple ones in the window and it made me think of you. I know purple is your favorite color."
Even Renarin bristled at the way he said that. Look at me, said his tone. Aren't I romantic? I know your favorite color. What more could you ask for in a husband? Basic decency? An understanding of consent? All that pales in comparison to purple flowers.
Impressively, Jasnah didn't react at all. Nor did she reach out to take the flowers, though Amaram awkwardly pushed them toward her in an attempt to make her acknowledge them. Her eyes finally moved up to his face; Renarin knew when they made eye contact because the highmarshal blanched slightly.
"I said not to give me flowers," Jasnah said. "Repeatedly."
"I know." Amaram gave her another smile, which might have been charming on someone else. "But when I saw these, I knew I just had to get them for you. They were expensive, being from Shinovar, but nothing is too good for you, Princess." If his previous statement suggested he was the perfect husband material, this one screamed it. Renarin didn't miss the reference to the price, and based on the way Jasnah's shoulders tightened, neither did she. Amaram continued, either not noticing or not caring that she wasn't liking this. "They're so pretty, I thought you might like them."
"And I thought you might leave me alone in my time of grief," Jasnah replied. "Yet here we both are."
Silence descended upon them. Renarin stayed quiet, afraid that if they remembered he was there they might send him away. Amaram tensed at Jasnah's words, then forcefully relaxed.
"Jasnah," he said gently, "your grief is part of the reason I wanted to come see you. With your father dead and the rest of your family away to seek retribution, I thought you might be lonely, and would appreciate the company of a friend who shares your grief for the late king. Such a great man, gone too soon." Holding the flowers with one hand, he went to place the other on her upper arm. She leaned away.
"I have friends," she said coolly. "Real friends, whom I greatly trust. And the rest of my family is not at the Shattered Plains." She nodded to Renarin. He froze, unsure if a response was warranted.
Amaram paused, then gave Renarin a warm smile. "Of course," he said. "How could I forget her dear little cousin?" He turned back to Jasnah, leaning forward slightly and dropping his voice to a low volume that he probably thought Renarin wouldn't hear. "But surely the runt doesn't make for better conversation than me."
Jasnah's eyes widened. Without a word, she turned away, tossing her head to make her long hair slap Amaram in the face as she stalked away, angerspren popping up behind her like a comet's tail. Renarin cringed at the fury in her eyes as she approached him, but she simply placed her clothed safehand protectively on his shoulder and turned back to face Amaram. "How dare you?" she demanded. "You will not speak that way of my cousin. I will have you know that Renarin is a delight, and I rely upon the joy he brings me to counteract the misery you bring." Her eyes narrowed. "And by the way, a chull makes for better conversation than you. At least they stop when they're told."
"Come now, Jasnah." Amaram rolled his eyes. "At this point you're just being juvenile."
"And insulting a child because you otherwise can't get under my skin is so mature?" Jasnah let out a disgusted scoff. She let go of Renarin, striding back toward Amaram, and without a word snatched the flowers from his hands. She paused for a moment, looking down at them, and her posture loosened almost imperceptibly. Amaram relaxed, too, until she spoke. "I hate to think the florist wasted time and effort on flowers that won't be appreciated," she mused. Then she looked back up at Amaram, voice hardening. "But the idea of making you waste all that money more than balances it out."
With that, she looked straight into Amaram's eyes and the flowers exploded into a column of flame.
Renarin choked back a scream, and he thought Amaram did too. The man jumped back an impressive distance, shockspren raining down around him as he watched the fire burn itself out in a flash.
Jasnah clasped her now-empty hands before herself, appearing calmer now that she'd taken some of her frustration out on the flowers. "Next time you bring me a gift," she said flatly, "it will be your face that I turn to flame. And next time you insult my cousin, I will turn your body into quartz and put it in the foyer to serve as an example."
A single fearspren appeared at Amaram's feet, though the highmarshal himself didn't seem to notice it. He stood there for a moment, staring at the empty air where the flowers had just been. One eye twitched. "No flowers," he said. "I understand." He nodded in respect to Renarin. "Good day, Jasnah." Then he left, taking longer strides than necessary toward the door as if unwilling to remain in the room for a second longer than he had to. The door slammed shut behind him.
Jasnah stood quietly for a moment. The faintest smile flickered across her face, and she relaxed. She walked over to Renarin and sat down heavily beside him.
"That should keep him away for a while," she murmured, gazing at the door. She shook her head, then turned concerned eyes on Renarin. "Are you alright? That man continually amazes me with his audacity, but insulting you is a new low."
"I'm fine," Renarin said, striving not to sound too excited. Then he gave up and grinned at her. "That was awesome."
Jasnah raised an eyebrow. But almost immediately, her composure collapsed and she returned his smile. "Did you see how big his eyes were?"
"Yes!" Renarin laughed. "We have dinner plates smaller than that."
"We do." Jasnah chuckled, holding up her freehand to admire her Soulcaster. "Perhaps I should set things on fire more often. It might improve manners around here."
"And I bet it'll scare him off from bothering you again."
"Well, at least for a week." She grimaced and dropped her hand back into her lap. "Which is also probably the maximum amount of time before the ardents hear about me using this to frighten off suitors. I may regret that."
"That might happen," Renarin allowed. "But you know what definitely won't happen?"
"What's that?"
"Amaram giving you flowers."
Jasnah paused, then started laughing, and so did he. Tiny silver laughterspren darted through the air around their heads, reveling in the joy of the moment. It felt good to have some light after how terrible the last few months had been. So good, in fact, that Renarin forgot -- and never again remembered -- to press Jasnah about her Soulcaster. On the plus side, Amaram never forgot not to bring Jasnah flowers.