Warbreaker

Chapter 44

Siri watched Susebron with affection as he ate a third dessert. Their night’s meal lay spread out on the table and floor, some dishes completely devoured, others barely tasted. That first night when Susebron had ordered a meal had started a tradition. Now they ordered food every night—though only after Siri did her act for the listening priests. Susebron claimed to find it very amusing, though she noticed the curiosity in his eyes as he watched her.

Susebron had proven to have quite a sweet tooth now that disapproving priests and their sense of etiquette were absent. “You should probably watch out,” she noted as he finished another pastry. “If you eat too many of those, you will get fat.”

He reached for his writing board. No I won’t.

“Yes you will,” she said, smiling. “That’s the way it works.”

Not for gods, he wrote. My mother explained it. Some men become more bulky if they exercise a lot and become fat if they eat a lot. That doesn’t happen to Returned. We always look the same.

Siri couldn’t offer argument. What did she know of Returned?

Is food in Idris like this? Susebron wrote.

Siri smiled. He was always so curious about her homeland. She could sense a longing in him, the wish to be free of his palace and see the outside. And yet, he didn’t want to be disobedient, even when the rules were harsh.

“I really need to work on corrupting you some more,” she noted.

He paused. What does that have to do with food?

“Nothing,” she said. “But it’s true nonetheless. You’re far too good a person, Susebron.”

Sarcasm? he wrote. I certainly hope that it is.

“Only half,” she said, lying down on her stomach and watching him across their impromptu picnic setting.

Half-sarcasm? he wrote. Is this something new?

“No,” she said, sighing. “There is truth sometimes even in sarcasm. I don’t really want to corrupt you, but I do think that you’re just too perfectly obedient. You need to be a little more reckless. Impulsive and inde pendent.”

It’s hard to be impulsive when you are locked in a palace surrounded by hundreds of servants, he wrote.

“Good point.”

However, I have been thinking about the things you’ve said. Please don’t be mad at me.

Siri perked up, noting the embarrassment in his expression. “All right. What did you do?”

I talked to my priests, he said. With the artisans’ script.

Siri felt a moment of panic. “You told them about us?”

No, no, he wrote quickly. I did tell them I was worried about having a child. I asked why my father died right after he had a child.

Siri frowned. Part of her wished that he’d let her handle such negotiations. However, she said nothing. She didn’t want to keep him pinned down as his priests did. It was his life that was being threatened—he deserved the chance to work on the problem too.

“Good,” she said.

You’re not mad?

She shrugged. “I was just encouraging you to be more impulsive! I can’t complain now. What did they say?”