Elantris (Page 10)

"I’m afraid I forgot the present this time, little one."

Sarene blushed. However, before she could squeak out an apology. Hunkey Kay wrapped a large arm around her shoulder and began towing her out of the throne room.

"Come, you have to meet my wife."

"Wife?"Sarene asked with a shocked voice. It had been over a decade since she had seen Kiin. but she remembered one fact quite clearly. Her uncle had been a sworn bachelor and a confirmed rascal. "Hunkey Kay is married?"

"You aren’t the only one who has grown over the last ten years," Kiin rasped. "Oh, and as cute as it is to hear you call me Hunkey Kay,’ you’ll probably want to call me Uncle Kiin now."

Sarene blushed again. ‘Hunkey Kay had been the creation of a child unable to pronounce her uncle’s name.

"So, how’s your father doing?" the large man asked. "Acting properly regal. I assume."

"He’s doing fine, Uncle," she replied. "Though I’m sure he would be surprised to find you living in the court of AreIon.

"He knows."

"No. he thinks you left on one of your voyages and settled on one of the far islands."

"Sarene, if you’re as quick-witted a woman as you were a girl, then you should have learned by now to separate the truth from the stories."

The statement came like a bucketful of icy water. She vaguely remembered watching her uncle’s ship sail away one day and asking her father when Hunkey Kay was going to return. Eventeo’s face had been morose when he replied that this time Hunkey Kay would be taking a long, Iong voyage.

"But why?" she asked. "All this time you were living just a few days’ trip from home. and you never came to visit?"

"Stories for another day, little one," Kiin said with a shake of his head. "Right now, you need to meet the monster of a woman who finally managed to capture your uncle."

¤ ¤ ¤

KIIN’S wife was hardly a monster. In fact, she was one of the most beautiful mature women Sarene had ever seen. Daora had a strong face with sharp, statuesque features and a well-styled head of auburn hair. She was not what Sarene would ever have placed with her uncle—of course, her most recent memories of Kiin were over a decade old.

Kiin’s large, castle-like mansion was not a surprise. She remembered that her uncle had been a merchant of some sort and her memories were highlighted by expensive gifts and Kiin’s exotic clothing. He had not only been the younger son of a king, but he had also been an extremely successful businessman. Something he still was, apparently. He’d been out of the city on business until that morning, which was why she hadn’t seen him at the funeral.

The greatest shock was the children. Despite the fact that Sarene knew he was married. she just couldn’t reconcile her recollections of the unruly Hunkey Kay with the concept of fatherhood. Her preconceptions were neatly shattered the moment Kiin and Daora opened the door to the mansion’s dining hall.

"Father’s home!" called the voice of a young girl.

"Yes, Father’s home," Kiin said with a suffering voice. "And no, I didn’t bring you anything. I’ve only been gone a few minutes."

"I don’t care what you did or didn’t bring me. I just want to eat." The speaker. a young girl about ten years old. had a very serious, adult-sounding voice. She wore a pink dress tied with white ribbon, and had a bob of stark blond hair on her head.

"When do you not want to eat, Kaise?" a little boy, who looked almost identical to the girl, asked with a sour look.

"Children, don’t squabble," Daora said firmly. "We have a guest."

"Sarene," Kiin declared, "meet your cousins. Kaise and Daorn. The two biggest headaches in your poor uncle’s life."

"Now, Father. you know you would have gone mad from boredom long ago without them," a man said from the far doorway. The newcomer was of average Arelish height, which meant he was an inch or two shorter than Sarene, with a lean build and a strikingly handsome, hawkish face. His hair had been parted down the center and flopped down on either side of his face. A woman with black hair stood at his side, her lips sIightly pursed as she studied Sarene.

The man bowed slightly to Sarene. "Your Highness." he said with only a hint of a smile on his lips.

"My son Lukel," Kiin explained.

"Your son?" Sarene asked with surprise. Young children she could accept, but Lukel was a few years older than she was. That meant .

"No," Kiin said with a shake of his head. "Lukel is from Daora’s previous marriage."

"Not that that makes me any less his son," Lukel said with a broad smile. "You can’t escape responsibility for me that easily."

"Domi himself wouldn’t dare take responsibility for you," Kiin said. "Anyway, that’s Jalla next to him."

"Your daughter?" Sarene asked as Jalla curtsied.

"Daughter-in-law," the dark-haired woman explained, her speech thick with an accent.

"You’re Fjordell?" Sarene asked. The hair had been a clue, but the name and accent were giveaways.

"Svordish," Jalla corrected—not that it was much different. The small kingdom of Svorden was all but a Fjordell province.

"Jalla and I studied together at the Svordish university," Lukel explained. "We were married last month."

"Congratulations." Sarene said. "It’s nice to know I’m not the only newlywed in the room." Sarene meant the comment lightly, but was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She felt Kiin’s large hand grip her shoulder.

"I’m sorry, ‘Ene," he said softly. "I wasn’t going to bring it up, but … You deserved better than this: you were always such a happy child."

"No loss to me," Sarene said with an indifference she didn’t feel. "It isn’t like I knew him, Uncle."

"Even still," Daora said. "it must have been a shock."

"You could say that," Sarene agreed.

"If it helps," Kiin said, "Prince Raoden was a good man. One of the best I have ever known. If you knew a little more about Arelish politics, then you would understand that I don’t use those words lightly when referring to a member of Iadon’s court."

Sarene nodded slightly. Part of her was happy to hear she hadn’t misjudged Raoden by his letters: the other half thought it would have been easier to continue thinking that he was like his father.

"Enough talk about dead princes!" a small but insistent voice decided from the table. "If we don’t eat soon, Father will have to stop complaining about me because I’ll be dead."

"Yes, Kiin," Daora agreed, "you should probably go to the kitchen and make sure your feast isn’t burning."

Kiin snorted. "I have each dish cooking on a precise schedule. It would be impossible for one to . . ." The large man trailed off, sniffing the air. Then he swore and barreled out of the room.

"Uncle Kiin is cooking dinner?" Sarene asked with amazement.

"Your uncle is one of the best chefs in this town, dear," Daora said.

"Uncle Kiin?" Sarene repeated. "Cook?"

Daora nodded, as if it were an everyday occurrence. "Kiin has traveled more places in this world than anyone in Arelon, and he brought back recipes from each one. I believe tonight he’s fixing something he learned in Jindo."

"Does this mean we’re going to eat?" Kaise asked pointedly.

"I hate Jindoeese food," Daorn complained, his voice almost indistinguishable from that of his sister. "It’s too spicy."

"You don’t like anything unless it has a handful of sugar mixed in," Lukel teased, mussing his half brother’s hair.

"Daorn, go run and get Adien."

"Another one?" Sarene asked.

Daora nodded. "The last. Lukel’s full brother."

"He’s probably sleeping," Kaise said. "Adien’s always sleeping. I think it’s because his mind is only half awake."

"Kaise, little girls who say such things about their brothers often end up in bed without supper." Daora informed. "Daorn, get moving."

¤ ¤ ¤

"YOU don’t look like a princess," Kaise said. The girl sat primly on her chair beside Sarene. The dining room had a homey. studylike feel, filled with dark wood paneling and relics from Kiin’s traveling days.

"What do you mean?" Sarene asked. trying to figure out how to use the odd Jindoeese dining utensils. There were two of them, one with a sharp pointed end and the other with a flat shoveled end. Everyone else was eating with them as if it were second nature, and Sarene was determined not to say anything. She would figure them out on her own or she wouldn’t get much to eat. The latter was looking much more likely.

"Well, for one thing you’re way too tall," Kaise said.

"Kaise." her mother warned in a threatening tone.

"Well it’s true. All of the books say princesses are petite. I’m not exactly sure what petite means, but I don’t think she’s it."

"I’m Teoish," Sarene said, successfully spearing something that looked like a marinated piece of shrimp. "We’re all this tall."

"Father’s Teoish too, Kaise," Daorn said. "And you know how tall he is."

"But father’s fat," Kaise pointed out. "Why aren’t you fat too, Sarene?"

Kiin, who had just appeared out of the kitchen doors, absently rapped his daughter on the head with the bottom of a serving tray as he passed. "Just as I thought," he mumbled, listening to the ringing sound created by the metal pan. "your head is completely hollow. I guess that explains a lot."

Kaise rubbed her head petulantly before turning back to her meal. muttering, "I still think princesses should be smaller. Besides princesses are supposed to have good table manners; cousin Sarene’s dropped about half of her meal on the floor. Who ever heard of a princess that didn’t know how to use MaiPon sticks?"

Sarene blushed, looking down at the foreign utensils.

"Don’t listen to her, ‘Ene," Kiin laughed, setting another suceulent-smelling dish on the table. "This is Jindoeese food—it’s made with so much grease that if half of it doesn’t end up on the floor, then something’s wrong. You’ll get the hang of those sticks eventually."

"You can use a spoon, if you want,’ Daorn said helpfully. "Adien always does."

Sarene’s eyes were immediately drawn to the fourth child. Adien was a thin-faced boy in his late teens. He had a pale white complexion and a strange discomforting cast to his face. He are awkwardly, his motions stiff and uncontrolled. As he ate, he mumbled to himself—repeating numbers. as far as Sarene could tell. Sarene had met people like him before, children whose minds weren’t completely whole.

"Father, the meal is delicious," Lukel said, drawing the attention away from his brother. "I don’t believe you’ve ever fixed this shrimp dish before."

"It’s called HaiKo." Kiin said in his raspy voice. "I learned it off a traveling merchant while you were studying in Svorden last year."

"Sixteen million four hundred thousand seven hundred and seventy-two," Adien mumbled. "That’s how many steps it is to Svorden."

Sarene paused slightly at Adien’s addition, but the rest of the family paid him no heed, so she did likewise. "It truly is wonderful. Uncle," Sarene said. "I would never have figured you for a chef."