VIN RESISTED THE URGE TO PICK at her noblewoman’s dress. Even after a half week of being forced to wear one—Sazed’s suggestion—she found the bulky garment uncomfortable. It pulled tightly at her waist and chest, then fell to the floor with several layers of ruffled fabric, making it difficult to walk. She kept feeling as if she were going to trip—and, despite the gown’s bulk, she felt as if she were somehow exposed by how tight it
was through the chest, not to mention the neckline’s low curve. Though she had exposed nearly as much skin when wearing normal, buttoning shirts,
this seemed different somehow.
Still, she had to admit that the gown made quite a difference. The girl who stood in the mirror before her was a strange, foreign creature. The light blue dress, with its white ruffles and lace, matched the sapphire barrettes in her hair. Sazed claimed he wouldn’t be happy until her hair was at least shoulder-length, but he had still suggested that she purchase the broochlike barrettes and put them just above each ear.
“Often, aristocrats don’t hide their deficiencies,” he had explained. “Instead, they highlight them. Draw attention to your short hair, and instead of thinking you’re unfashionable, they might be impressed by the statement you are making.”
She also wore a sapphire necklace—modest by noble standards, but still worth more than two hundred boxings. It was complemented by a single
ruby bracelet for accentuation. Apparently, the current fashion dictated a single splash of a different color to provide contrast.
And it was all hers, paid for by crew funds. If she ran, taking the jewelry and her three thousand boxings, she could live for decades. It was more tempting than she wanted to admit. Images of Camon’s men, their
corpses twisted and dead in the quiet lair, kept returning to her. That was probably what waited for her if she remained.
Why, then, didn’t she go?
She turned from the mirror, putting on a light blue silken shawl, the
female aristocrat’s version of a cloak. Why didn’t she leave? Perhaps it was her promise to Kelsier. He had given her the gift of Allomancy, and he depended on her. Perhaps it was her duty to the others. In order to survive, crews needed each person to do their separate job.
Reen’s training told her that these men were fools, but she was tempted, enticed, by the possibility that Kelsier and the others offered. In the end, it wasn’t the wealth or the job’s thrill that made her stay. It was the shadowed prospect—unlikely and unreasonable, but still seductive—of a group whose members actually trusted one another. She had to stay. She had to know if it lasted, or if it was—as Reen’s growing whispers promised—all a lie.
She turned and left her room, walking toward the front of Mansion Renoux, where Sazed waited with a carriage. She had decided to stay, and that meant she had to do her part.
It was time to make her first appearance as a noblewoman.
The carriage shook suddenly, and Vin jumped in surprise. The vehicle continued normally, however, and Sazed didn’t move from his place in the driver’s seat.
A sound came from above. Vin flared her metals, tensing, as a figure dropped down off the top of the carriage and landed on the footman’s rest just outside her door. Kelsier smiled as he peeked his head in the window.
Vin let out a relieved breath, settling back into her seat. “You could have just asked us to pick you up.”
“No need,” Kelsier said, pulling open the carriage door and swinging inside. It was already dark outside, and he wore his mistcloak. “I warned Sazed I’d be dropping by sometime during the trip.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Kelsier winked, pulling the door shut. “I figured I still owed you for surprising me in that alleyway last week.”
“How very adult of you,” Vin said flatly.
“I’ve always been very confident in my immaturity. So, are you ready for this evening?”
Vin shrugged, trying to hide her nervousness. She glanced down. “How…uh, do I look?”
“Splendid,” Kelsier said. “Just like a noble young lady. Don’t be nervous, Vin—the disguise is perfect.”
For some reason, that didn’t feel like the answer she’d wanted to hear. “Kelsier?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while,” she said, glancing out the
window, though all she could see is mist. “I understand that you think this is important—having a spy among the nobility. But…well, do we really have to do it this way? Couldn’t we get street informants to tell us what we need to know about house politics?”
“Perhaps,” Kelsier said. “But those men are called ‘informants’ for a reason, Vin. Every question you ask them gives a clue about your true motives—even meeting with them reveals a bit of information that they could sell to someone else. It’s better to rely on them as little as possible.”
Vin sighed.
“I don’t send you into danger heedlessly, Vin,” Kelsier said, leaning forward. “We do need a spy among the nobility. Informants generally get their information from servants, but most aristocrats are not fools.
Important meetings go on where no servant can overhear them.” “And you expect me to be able to get into such meetings?”
“Perhaps,” Kelsier said. “Perhaps not. Either way, I’ve learned that it’s always useful to have someone infiltrate the nobility. You and Sazed will overhear vital items that street informants wouldn’t think important. In fact, just by being at these parties—even if you don’t overhear anything—you will get us information.”
“How so?” Vin asked, frowning.
“Make note of the people who seem interested in you,” Kelsier said.
“Those will be of the houses we want to watch. If they pay attention to you, they’re probably paying attention to Lord Renoux—and there’s one good reason why they would be doing that.”
“Weapons,” Vin said.
Kelsier nodded. “Renoux’s position as a weapons merchant will make him valuable to those who are planning military action. These are the
houses on which I’ll need to focus my attention. There should already be a sense of tension among the nobility—hopefully, they’re starting to wonder which houses are turning against the others. There hasn’t been an all-out war among the Great Houses for over a century, but the last one was devastating. We need to replicate it.”
“That could mean the deaths of a lot of noblemen,” Vin said. Kelsier smiled. “I can live with that. How about you?”
Vin smiled despite her tension.
“There’s another reason for you to do this,” Kelsier said. “Sometime during this fiasco of a plan of mine, we might need to face the Lord Ruler. I have a feeling that the fewer people we need to sneak into his presence, the better. Having a skaa Mistborn hiding among the nobility…well, it could be a powerful advantage.”
Vin felt a slight chill. “The Lord Ruler…will he be there tonight?” “No. There will be obligators in attendance, but probably no Inquisitors
—and certainly not the Lord Ruler himself. A party like this is far beneath his attention.”
Vin nodded. She’d never seen the Lord Ruler before—she’d never wanted to.
“Don’t worry so much,” Kelsier said. “Even if you were to meet him, you’d be safe. He can’t read minds.”
“Are you sure?”
Kelsier paused. “Well, no. But, if he can read minds, he doesn’t do it to everyone he meets. I’ve known several skaa who pretended to be noblemen in his presence—I did it several times myself, before…” He trailed off, glancing down toward his scar-covered hands.
“He caught you eventually,” Vin said quietly.
“And he’ll probably do so again,” Kelsier said with a wink. “But, don’t worry about him for now—our goal this evening is to establish Lady Valette Renoux. You won’t need to do anything dangerous or unusual. Just make an appearance, then leave when Sazed tells you. We’ll worry about building
confidences later.” Vin nodded.
“Good girl,” Kelsier said, reaching out and pushing open the door. “I’ll be hiding near the keep, watching and listening.”
Vin nodded gratefully, and Kelsier jumped out of the carriage door, disappearing into the dark mists.
Vin was unprepared for how bright Keep Venture would be in the darkness.
The massive building was enveloped in an aura of misty light. As the
carriage approached, Vin could see that eight enormous lights blazed along the outside of the rectangular building. They were as bright as bonfires, yet far more steady, and they had mirrors arranged behind them to make them shine directly on the keep. Vin had trouble determining their purpose. The ball would happen indoors—why light the outside of the building?
“Head inside, please, Mistress Vin,” Sazed said from his position above. “Proper young ladies do not gawk.”
Vin shot him a glare he couldn’t see, but ducked her head back inside, waiting with impatient nervousness as the carriage pulled up to the massive keep. It eventually rolled to a stop, and a Venture footman immediately opened her door. A second footman approached and held out a hand to help her down.
Vin accepted his hand, trying with as much grace as possible to pull the frilled, bulky bottom of her dress out of the carriage. As she carefully descended—trying not to trip—she was grateful for the footman’s steadying hand, and she finally realized why men were expected to help a lady out of her carriage. It wasn’t a silly custom after all—the clothing was the silly part.
Sazed surrendered the carriage and took his place a few steps behind her. He wore robes even more fine than his standard fare; though they still maintained the same V-like pattern, they had a belted waist and wide, enveloping sleeves.
“Forward, Mistress,” Sazed coached quietly from behind. “Up the carpet, so that your dress doesn’t rub on the cobbles, and in through the main doors.”
Vin nodded, trying to swallow her discomfort. She walked forward, passing noblemen and ladies in various suits and gowns. Though they weren’t looking at her, she felt exposed. Her steps were nowhere near as graceful as those of the other ladies, who looked beautiful and comfortable
in their gowns. Her hands began to sweat inside her silky, blue-white gloves.
She forced herself to continue. Sazed introduced her at the door, presenting her invitation to the attendants. The two men, dressed in black and red servant’s suits, bowed and waved her in. A crowd of aristocrats was pooling slightly in the foyer, waiting to enter the main hall.
What am I doing? she thought frantically. She could challenge mist and Allomancy, thieves and burglaries, mistwraiths and beatings. Yet, facing
these noblemen and their ladies…going amongst them in the light, visible, unable to hide…this terrified her.
“Forward, Mistress,” Sazed said in a soothing voice. “Remember your lessons.”
Hide! Find a corner! Shadows, mists, anything!
Vin kept her hands clasped rigidly before her, walking forward. Sazed walked beside her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see concern on his normally calm face.
And well he should worry! Everything he had taught her seemed fleeting—vaporous, like the mists themselves. She couldn’t remember names, customs, anything.
She stopped just inside the foyer, and an imperious-looking nobleman in a black suit turned to regard her. Vin froze.
The man looked her over with a dismissive glance, then turned away.
She distinctly heard the word “Renoux” whispered, and she glanced apprehensively to the side. Several women were looking at her.
And yet, it didn’t feel like they were seeing her at all. They were studying the gown, the hair, and the jewelry. Vin glanced to the other side, where a group of younger men were watching her. They saw the neckline, the pretty dress and the makeup, but they didn’t see her.
None of them could see Vin, they could only see the face she had put on
—the face she wanted them to see. They saw Lady Valette. It was as if Vin weren’t there.
As if…she were hiding, hiding right in front of their eyes.
And suddenly, her tension began to retreat. She let out a long, calming breath, anxiety flowing away. Sazed’s training returned, and she adopted the look of a girl amazed by her first formal ball. She stepped to the side, handing her shawl to an attendant, and Sazed relaxed beside her. Vin shot him a smile, then swept forward into the main hall.
She could do this. She was still nervous, but the moment of panic was over. She didn’t need shadows or corners—she just needed a mask of sapphires, makeup, and blue fabric.
The Venture main hall was a grand and imposing sight. Four or five daunting stories high, the hall was several times as long as it was wide. Enormous, rectangular stained-glass windows ran in rows along the hall, and the strange, powerful lights outside shone on them directly, throwing a cascade of colors across the room. Massive, ornate stone pillars were set into the walls, running between the windows. Just before the pillars met the floor, the wall fell away, indenting and creating a single-story gallery beneath the windows themselves. Dozens of white-clothed tables sat in this area, shadowed behind the pillars and beneath the overhang. In the distance, at the far end of the hallway, Vin could make out a low balcony set into the wall, and this held a smaller group of tables.
“The dining table of Lord Straff Venture,” Sazed whispered, gesturing toward the far balcony.
Vin nodded. “And those lights outside?”
“Limelights, Mistress,” Sazed explained. “I’m not certain the process used—somehow, the quicklime stones can be heated to brilliance without melting them.”
A string orchestra played on a platform to her left, providing music for the couples who danced in the very center of the hall. To her right, serving
tables held platter upon platter of foods being attended by scurrying serving men in white.
Sazed approached an attendant and presented Vin’s invitation. The man nodded, then whispered something in a younger servant’s ear. The young man bowed to Vin, then led the way into the room.
“I asked for a small, solitary table,” Sazed said. “You won’t need to mingle during this visit, I think. Just be seen.”
Vin nodded gratefully.
“The solitary table will mark you as single,” Sazed warned. “Eat slowly
—once your meal is through, men will come to ask you to dance.” “You didn’t teach me to dance!” Vin said in an urgent whisper.
“There wasn’t time, Mistress,” Sazed said. “Worry not—respectfully and rightly, you can refuse these men. They will assume that you are simply flustered by your first ball, and no harm will be done.”
Vin nodded, and the serving man led them to a small table near the center of the hallway. Vin seated herself in the only chair while Sazed ordered her meal. He then stepped up to stand behind her chair.
Vin sat primly, waiting. Most of the tables lay just beneath the overhang of the gallery—up close to the dancing—and that left a corridorlike walkway behind them, near the wall. Couples and groups passed along this, speaking quietly. Occasionally someone gestured or nodded toward Vin.
Well, that part of Kelsier’s plan is working. She was getting noticed.
She had to force herself not to cringe or sink down in her chair, however, as a high prelan strolled along the pathway behind her. He wasn’t the one she had met, fortunately, though he had the same gray robes and dark tattoos around his eyes.
Actually, there were a fair number of obligators at the party. They strolled about, mingling with the partygoers. And yet, there was an…
aloofness to them. A division. They hovered about, almost like chaperones.
The Garrison watches the skaa, Vin thought. Apparently, the obligators perform a similar function for the nobility. It was an odd sight—she’d
always thought of the noblemen as being free. And, truthfully, they were far more confident than the skaa. Many seemed to be enjoying themselves, and the obligators didn’t seem to be acting really as police, or even specifically as spies. And yet, they were there. Hovering about, joining in conversations. A constant reminder of the Lord Ruler and his empire.
Vin turned her attention away from the obligators—their presence still made her a bit uncomfortable—and instead focused on something else: the beautiful windows. Sitting where she was, she could see some of the ones directly across and up from where she sat.
They were religious, like many scenes preferred by the aristocracy. Perhaps it was to show devotion, or perhaps it was required. Vin didn’t know enough—but, likely, that was something Valette wouldn’t know either, so it was all right.
She did, fortunately, recognize some of the scenes—mostly because of Sazed’s teachings. He seemed to know as much about the Lord Ruler’s mythology as he did about other religions, though it seemed odd to her that he would study the very religion he found so oppressive.
Central to many of the windows was the Deepness. Dark black—or, in window terms, violet—it was formless, with vengeful, tentaclelike masses creeping across several windows. Vin looked up at it, along with the
brilliantly colored depictions of the Lord Ruler, and found herself a little bit transfixed by the backlit scenes.
What was it? she wondered. The Deepness? Why depict it so formlessly
—why not show what it really was?
She’d never really wondered about the Deepness before, but Sazed’s lessons left her wondering. Her instincts whispered scam. The Lord Ruler had invented some terrible menace that he’d been able to destroy in the past, therefore “earning” his place as emperor. And yet, staring up at the horrible, twisting thing, Vin could almost believe.
What if something like that had existed? And, if it had, how had the Lord Ruler managed to defeat it?
She sighed, shaking her head at the thoughts. Already, she was beginning to think too much like a noblewoman. She was admiring the beauty of the decorations—thinking about what they meant—without giving more than a passing thought to the wealth that had created them. It was just that everything here was so wondrous and ornate.
The pillars in the hall weren’t just normal columns, they were carved masterpieces. Wide banners hung from the ceiling just above the windows, and the arching, lofty ceiling was crisscrossed by structural buttressings and dotted with capstones. Somehow she knew each of those capstones was intricately carved, despite the fact that they were too far away to be seen from below.
And the dancers matched, perhaps even outshone, the exquisite setting.
Couples moved gracefully, stepping to the soft music with seemingly
effortless motions. Many were even chatting with one another while they danced. The ladies moved freely in their dresses—many of which, Vin noticed, made her own frilly garment look plain by comparison. Sazed was right: Long hair was certainly the fashion, though an equal number kept their hair up as left it down.
Surrounded by the majestic hall, the sharp-suited noblemen looked different, somehow. Distinguished. Were these the same creatures that beat her friends and enslaved the skaa? They seemed too…perfect, too well- mannered, for such horrible acts.
I wonder if they even notice the outside world, she thought, crossing her arms on the table as she watched the dancing. Perhaps they can’t see beyond their keeps and their balls—just like they can’t see past my dress and makeup.
Sazed tapped her shoulder, and Vin sighed, adopting a more ladylike posture. The meal arrived a few moments later—a feast of such strange flavors that she would have been daunted, had she not eaten similar fare often during the last few months. Sazed’s lessons might have omitted
dancing, but they had been quite extensive regarding dining etiquette, for which Vin was grateful. As Kelsier had said, her main purpose of the evening was to make an appearance—and so it was important that she make a proper one.
She ate delicately, as instructed, and that allowed her to be slow and meticulous. She didn’t relish the idea of being asked to dance; she was half afraid she’d panic again if anyone actually spoke to her. However, a meal could only be extended so long—especially one with a lady’s small portions. She soon finished, and set her fork across the plate, indicating that she was done.
The first suitor approached not two minutes later. “Lady Valette
Renoux?” the young man asked, bowing just slightly. He wore a green vest beneath his long, dark suit coat. “I am Lord Rian Strobe. Would you care to dance?”
“My lord,” Vin said, glancing down demurely. “You are kind, but this is my first ball, and everything here is so grand! I fear that I’ll stumble from
nervousness on the dance floor. Perhaps, next time…?”
“Of course, my lady,” he said with a courteous nod, then withdrew. “Very well done, Mistress,” Sazed said quietly. “Your accent was
masterful. You will, of course, have to dance with him at the next ball. We shall surely have you trained by then, I think.”
Vin flushed slightly. “Maybe he won’t attend.”
“Perhaps,” Sazed said. “But not likely. The young nobility are quite fond of their nightly diversions.”
“They do this every night?”
“Nearly,” Sazed said. “The balls are, after all, a prime reason people come to Luthadel. If one is in town and there is a ball—and there almost
always is—one generally attends, especially if one is young and unmarried. You won’t be expected to attend quite so frequently, but we should probably get you up to attending two or three a week.”
“Two or three…” Vin said. “I’m going to need more gowns!”
Sazed smiled. “Ah, thinking like a noblewoman already. Now, Mistress, if you will excuse me…”
“Excuse you?” Vin asked, turning.
“To the steward’s dinner,” Sazed said. “A servant of my rank is generally dismissed once my master’s meal is finished. I hesitate to go and leave you, but that room will be filled with the self-important servants of
the high nobility. There will be conversations there that Master Kelsier wishes me to overhear.”
“You’re leaving me by myself?”
“You’ve done well so far, Mistress,” Sazed said. “No major mistakes— or, at least, none that wouldn’t be expected of a lady new to court.”
“Like what?” Vin asked apprehensively.
“We shall discuss them later. Just remain at your table, sipping your wine—try not to get it refilled too often—and wait for my return. If other young men approach, turn them away as delicately as you did the first.”
Vin nodded hesitantly.
“I shall return in about an hour,” Sazed promised. He remained, however, as if waiting for something.
“Um, you are dismissed,” Vin said.
“Thank you, Mistress,” he said, bowing and withdrawing. Leaving her alone.
Not alone, she thought. Kelsier’s out there somewhere, watching in the night. The thought comforted her, though she wished she didn’t feel the empty space beside her chair quite so keenly.
Three more young men approached her for dances, but each one accepted her polite rejection. No others came after them; word had probably gotten around that she wasn’t interested in dancing. She memorized the
names of the four men who had approached her—Kelsier would want to know them—and began to wait.
Oddly, she soon found herself growing bored. The room was well ventilated, but she still felt hot beneath the layers of fabric. Her legs were especially bad, since they had to deal with her ankle-long undergarments.
The long sleeves didn’t help either, though the silky material was soft against her skin. The dancing continued, and she watched with interest for a time. However, her attention soon turned to the obligators.
Interestingly, they did seem to serve some sort of function at the party.
Though they often stood apart from the groups of chatting nobility, occasionally they would join in. And, every so often, a group would pause and seek out an obligator, waving one over with a respectful gesture.
Vin frowned, trying to decide what she was missing. Eventually, a group at a nearby table waved to a passing obligator. The table was too far away to hear unaided, but with tin…
She reached inside to burn the metal, but then paused. Copper first, she thought, turning the metal on. She would have to grow accustomed to leaving it on almost all the time, so that she wouldn’t expose herself.
Her Allomancy hidden, she burned tin. Immediately, the light in the room became blinding, and she had to close her eyes. The band’s music
became louder, and a dozen conversations around her turned from buzzes to audible voices. She had to try hard to focus on the one she was interested in, but the table was the one closest to her, so she eventually singled out the
appropriate voices.
“…swear that I’ll share news of my engagement with him before
anyone else,” one of the people said. Vin opened her eyes a slit—it was one of the noblemen at the table.
“Very well,” said the obligator. “I witness and record this.”
The nobleman reached out a hand, and coins clinked. Vin extinguished her tin, opening her eyes all the way in time to see the obligator wandering away from the table, slipping something—likely the coins—into a pocket of his robes.
Interesting, Vin thought.
Unfortunately, the people at that table soon rose and went their separate ways, leaving Vin without anyone close enough to eavesdrop upon. Her boredom returned as she watched the obligator stroll across the room toward one of his companions. She began to tap on the table, idly watching the two obligators until she realized something.
She recognized one of them. Not the one who had taken the money earlier, but his companion, an older man. Short and firm-featured, he stood with an imperious air. Even the other obligator seemed deferential to him.
At first, Vin thought her familiarity came from her visit to the Canton of Finance with Camon, and she felt a stab of panic. Then, however, she realized that this wasn’t the same man. She’d seen him before, but not there. He was…
My father, she realized with stupefaction.
Reen had pointed him out once, when they had first come to Luthadel, a year ago; he had been inspecting the workers at a local forge. Reen had taken Vin, sneaking her in, insisting that she at least see her father once—
though she still didn’t understand why. She had memorized the face anyway.
She resisted the urge to shrink down in her chair. There was no way the man would be able to recognize her—he didn’t even know she existed. She forcibly turned her attention away from him, looking up at the windows instead. She couldn’t get that good a look at them, however, because the
pillars and overhang restricted her view.
As she sat, she noticed something she hadn’t seen before—a lofty, inset balcony that ran just above the entire far wall. It was like a counterpart to
the alcove beneath the windows, except it ran at the top of the wall, between the stained-glass windows and the ceiling. She could see movement upon it, couples and singles strolling along, looking down upon the party below.
Her instincts drew her toward the balcony, from where she could watch the party without being seen herself. It would also give her a wonderful
view of the banners and the windows directly above her table, not to mention let her study the stonework without seeming to gawk.
Sazed had told her to stay, but the more she sat, the more she found her eyes drawn toward the hidden balcony. She itched to stand up and move, to stretch her legs and perhaps air them out a bit. The presence of her father— oblivious of her or not—served only as another motivation for her to leave the main floor.
It isn’t like anyone else is asking me to dance, she thought. And I’ve done what Kelsier wanted, I’ve been seen by the nobility.
She paused, then waved for a serving boy.
He approached with alacrity. “Yes, Lady Renoux?”
“How do I get up there?” Vin asked, pointing toward the balcony.
“There are stairs just to the side of the orchestra, my lady,” the boy said. “Climb them to the top landing.”
Vin nodded her thanks. Then, determined, she stood and made her way to the front of the room. No one gave her passing more than a glance, and she walked with more confidence as she crossed the hallway to the stairwell.
The stone corridor twisted upward, curling upon itself, its steps short but steep. Little stained glass windows, no wider than her hand, ran up the outside wall—though they were dark in color, lacking backlight. Vin climbed eagerly, working away her restless energy, but she soon began to
puff from the weight of the dress and the difficulty of holding it up so that she didn’t trip. A spark of burned pewter, however, made the climb
effortless enough that she didn’t sweat and ruin her makeup.
The climb proved to be worth the effort. The upper balcony was dark— lit only by several small blue-glassed lanterns on the walls—and it gave an amazing view of the stained-glass windows. The area was quiet, and Vin felt practically alone as she approached the iron railing between two pillars, looking down. The stone tiles of the floor below formed a pattern she hadn’t noticed, a kind of freeform curving of gray upon white.
Mists? she wondered idly, leaning against the railing. It, like the lantern bracket behind her, was intricate and detailed—both had been wrought in
the form of thick, curving vines. To her sides, the tops of the pillars were carved into stone animals that appeared frozen in the motion of jumping off of the balcony.
“Now, see, here’s the problem with going to refill your cup of wine.”
The sudden voice made Vin jump, and she spun. A young man stood behind her. His suit wasn’t the finest she had seen, nor was his vest as bright as most. Both coat and shirt seemed to fit too loosely, and his hair was just a bit disheveled. He carried a cup of wine, and the outer pocket of his suit coat bulged with the shape of a book that was just a bit too big for its confines.
“The problem is,” the young man said, “you return to find that your
favorite spot has been stolen by a pretty girl. Now, a gentleman would move on to another place, leaving the lady to her contemplations. However, this is the best spot on the balcony—it’s the only place close enough to a lantern to have good reading light.”
Vin flushed. “I’m sorry, my lord.”
“Ah, see, now I feel guilty. All for a cup of wine. Look, there’s plenty of room for two people here—just scoot over a bit.”
Vin paused. Could she politely refuse? He obviously wanted her to stay near him—did he know who she was? Should she try to find out his name, so she could tell Kelsier?
She stepped a bit to the side, and the man took a place next to her. He leaned back against the side pillar, and, surprisingly, took out his book and began to read. He was right: The lantern shined directly on the pages. Vin stood for a moment, watching him, but he seemed completely absorbed. He didn’t even pause to look up at her.
Isn’t he going to pay me any attention at all? Vin thought, puzzled at her own annoyance. Maybe I should have worn a fancier dress.
The man sipped at his wine, focused on the book. “Do you always read at balls?” she asked.
The young man looked up. “Whenever I can get away with it.” “Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of coming?” Vin asked. “Why
attend if you’re just going to avoid socializing?” “You’re up here too,” he pointed out.
Vin flushed. “I just wanted to get a brief view of the hall.”
“Oh? And why did you refuse all three men who asked you to dance?” Vin paused. The man smiled, then turned back to his book.
“There were four,” Vin said with a huff. “And I refused them because I don’t know how to dance very well.”
The man lowered his book slightly, eyeing her. “You know, you’re a lot less timid than you look.”
“Timid?” Vin asked. “I’m not the one staring at his book when there’s a young lady standing by him, never having properly introduced himself.”
The man raised a speculative eyebrow. “Now, see, you sound like my father. Far better looking, but just as grumpy.”
Vin glared at him. Finally, he rolled his eyes. “Very well, let me be a gentleman, then.” He bowed to her with a refined, formal step. “I am Lord Elend. Lady Valette Renoux, might I have the pleasure of sharing this balcony with you whilst I read?”
Vin folded her arms. Elend? Family name or given name? Should I even care? He just wanted his spot back. But…how did he know that I’d refused dancing partners? Somehow, she had a suspicion that Kelsier would want to hear about this particular conversation.
Oddly, she didn’t feel a desire to shrug this man away as she had the others. Instead, she felt another stab of annoyance as he again raised his book.
“You still haven’t told me why you would rather read than participate,” she said.
The man sighed, lowering the book again. “Well, see, I’m not exactly the best dancer either.”
“Ah,” Vin said.
“But,” he said, raising a finger, “that’s only part of it. You may not
realize this yet, but it’s not that hard to get overpartied. Once you attend
five or six hundred of these balls, they start to feel a bit repetitive.”
Vin shrugged. “You’d probably learn to dance better if you practiced.”
Elend raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to let me get back to my book, are you?”
“I wasn’t intending to.”
He sighed, tucking the book back into his jacket pocket—which was beginning to show signs of book-shaped wear. “Well, then. Do you want to go dance instead?”
Vin froze. Elend smiled nonchalantly.
Lord! He’s either incredibly smooth or socially incompetent. It was disturbing that she couldn’t determine which.
“That’s a no, I assume?” Elend said. “Good—I thought I should offer,
since we’ve established that I’m a gentleman. However, I doubt the couples below would appreciate us trampling their toes.”
“Agreed. What were you reading?”
“Dilisteni,” Elend said. “Trials of Monument. Heard of it?” Vin shook her head.
“Ah, well. Not many have.” He leaned over the railing, looking below. “So, what do you think of your first experience at court?”
“It’s very…overwhelming.”
Elend chuckled. “Say what you will about House Venture—they know how to throw a party.”
Vin nodded. “You don’t like House Venture, then?” she said. Perhaps this was one of the rivalries Kelsier was watching for.
“Not particularly, no,” Elend said. “They’re an ostentatious lot, even for high nobility. They can’t just have a party, they have to throw the best party. Never mind that they run their servants ragged setting it up, then beat the poor things in retribution when the hall isn’t perfectly clean the very next
morning.”
Vin cocked her head. Not words I’d expect to hear from a nobleman.
Elend paused, looking a little embarrassed. “But, well, never mind that.
I think your Terrisman is looking for you.”
Vin started, glancing over the side of the balcony. Sure enough, Sazed’s tall form stood by her now-empty table, speaking to a serving boy.
Vin yelped quietly. “I’ve got to go,” she said, turning toward the stairwell.
“Ah, well then,” Elend said, “back to reading it is.” He gave her a half wave of farewell, but he had his book open before she passed the first step.
Vin reached the bottom out of breath. Sazed saw her immediately. “I’m sorry,” she said, chagrined as she approached.
“Do not apologize to me, Mistress,” Sazed said quietly. “Is it both unseemly and unnecessary. Moving about a bit was a good idea, I think. I would have suggested it, had you not seemed so nervous.”
Vin nodded. “Is it time for us to go, then?”
“It is a proper time to withdraw, if you wish,” he said, glancing up at the balcony. “May I ask what you were doing up there, Mistress?”
“I wanted to get a better look at the windows,” Vin said. “But I ended up talking to someone. He seemed interested in me at first, but now I don’t think he ever intended to pay me much attention. It doesn’t matter—he didn’t seem important enough to bother Kelsier with his name.”
Sazed paused. “Who was it you were speaking to?”
“The man in the corner there, on the balcony,” Vin said. “One of Lord Venture’s friends?”
Vin froze. “Is one of them named Elend?”
Sazed paled visibly. “You were chatting with Lord Elend Venture?” “Um…yes?”
“Did he ask you to dance?”
Vin nodded. “But I don’t think he meant it.”
“Oh, dear,” Sazed said. “So much for controlled anonymity.” “Venture?” Vin asked, frowning. “Like, Keep Venture?” “Heir to the house title,” Sazed said.
“Hum,” Vin said, realizing that she should probably be a bit more intimidated than she felt. “He was a bit annoying—in a pleasant sort of way.”
“We shouldn’t be discussing this here,” Sazed said. “You’re far, far below his station. Come, let us retire. I shouldn’t have gone away to the dinner….”
He trailed off, mumbling to himself as he led Vin to the entryway. She got one more glimpse into the main chamber as she retrieved her shawl, and she burned tin, squinting against the light and seeking the balcony above.
He held the book, closed, in one hand—and she could have sworn that he was looking down in her direction. She smiled, and let Sazed usher her to their carriage.
I know that I shouldn’t let a simple packman perturb me. However, he is
from Terris, where the prophecies originated. If anyone could spot a fraud, would it not be he?
Nevertheless, I continue my trek, going where the scribbled auguries
proclaim that I will meet my destiny—walking, feeling Rashek’s eyes on my back. Jealous. Mocking. Hating.
