Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

You could say that circumstances forced me to leave my home behind—certainly, if I had stayed, I would now be dead. During those days—running without knowing why, carrying a burden I didn’t understand—I assumed that I would lose myself in Khlennium and seek a life of indistinction.

I am slowly coming to understand that anonymity, like so many other things, has already been lost to me forever.





18


She decided to wear the red dress. It was definitely the boldest choice, but that felt right. After all, she hid her true self behind an aristocratic appearance; the more visible that appearance was, the easier it should be for her to hide.

A footman opened the carriage door. Vin took a deep breath—chest a little confined by the special corset she was wearing to hide her bandages—then accepted the footman’s hand and climbed down. She straightened her dress, nodded to Sazed, then joined the other aristocrats making their way up the steps to Keep Elariel. It was a bit smaller than the keep of House Venture. However, Keep Elariel apparently had a separate party ballroom, while House Venture had its gatherings in the enormous main hall.

Vin eyed the other noblewomen, and felt a bit of her confidence vanish. Her dress was beautiful, but the other women had so much more than just gowns. Their long, flowing hair and self-assured airs matched their bejeweled figures. They filled out the upper portions of their dresses with voluptuous curves, and moved elegantly in the frilled splendor of the lower folds. Vin occasionally caught glimpses of the women’s feet, and they didn’t wear simple slippers like her own, but rather high-heeled shoes.

“Why don’t I have shoes like that?” she asked quietly as they climbed the carpet-covered stairs.

“Heels take practice to walk in, Mistress,” Sazed replied. “Since you’ve only just learned to dance, it might be best if you wore regular shoes for a time.”

Vin frowned, but accepted the explanation. Sazed’s mention of dancing, however, increased her discomfort. She remembered the flowing poise of the dancers at her last ball. She certainly wouldn’t be able to imitate that—she barely even knew the basic steps.

That won’t matter, she thought. They won’t see me—they’ll see Lady Valette. She’s supposed to be new and uncertain, and everyone thinks she’s been ill lately. It will make sense for her to be a poor dancer.

That thought in mind, Vin reached the top of the stairs feeling a bit more secure.

“I must say, Mistress,” Sazed said. “You seem far less nervous this time—in fact, you even seem excited. This is the proper attitude for Valette to display, I think.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. He was right: She was excited. Excited to be part of the job again—excited, even, to be back among the nobility, with their splendor and grace.

They stepped up to the squat ballroom building—one of several low wings extending from the main keep—and a servant took her shawl. Vin paused a moment just inside the doorway, waiting as Sazed arranged her table and meal.

The Elariel ballroom was very different from the majestic Venture grand hall. The dim room was only a single story high, and while it had a lot of stained-glass windows, they were all in the ceiling. Circular rose-window skylights shone from above, lit by small limelights on the roof. Each table was set with candles, and despite the light from above, there was a reserved darkness about the room. It seemed . . . private, despite the numerous people in attendance.

This room had obviously been designed to accommodate parties. A sunken dancing floor lay at its center, and this was better lit than the rest of the room. There were two tiers of tables circling the dancing floor: The first tier was only a few feet above, the other was farther back and about twice as high.

A servant led her to a table at the rim of the room. She sat, Sazed taking his customary place beside her, and began to wait for her meal to arrive.

“How exactly am I supposed to get the information Kelsier wants?” she asked quietly, scanning the dark room. The deep, crystalline colors from above projected patterns across tables and people, creating an impressive atmosphere, yet making it difficult to distinguish faces. Was Elend here somewhere amidst the ball-goers?

“Tonight, some men should ask you to dance,” Sazed said. “Accept their invitations—this will give you an excuse to seek them out later and mingle in their groups. You don’t need to participate in conversations—you just have to listen. At future balls, perhaps some of the young men will begin to ask you to accompany them. Then you’ll be able to sit at their table and listen to all of their discussions.”

“You mean, sit with one man the entire time?”

Sazed nodded. “It’s not uncommon. You would dance only with him that night as well.”

Vin frowned. However, she let the matter drop, turning to inspect the room again. He’s probably not even here—he said he avoided balls when possible. Even if he were here, he’d be off on his own. You won’t even—

A muted thump sounded as someone dropped a stack of books onto her table. Vin jumped in startlement, turning as Elend Venture pulled over a chair, then sat down with a relaxed posture. He leaned back in the chair, angling toward a candelabrum beside her table, and opened a book to begin reading.

Sazed frowned. Vin hid a smile, eyeing Elend. He still didn’t look as if he had bothered to brush his hair, and again wore his suit without the buttons done up. The garment wasn’t shabby, but nor was it as rich as others at the party. It seemed to have been tailored to be loose and relaxed, defying the traditional sharp, well-cut fashion.

Elend flipped through his book. Vin waited patiently for him to acknowledge her, but he just continued to read. Finally, Vin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember giving you permission to sit at my table, Lord Venture,” she said.

“Don’t mind me,” Elend said, not looking up. “You’ve got a big table—there’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“Both of us, perhaps,” Vin said. “But I’m not sure about those books. Where are the servers going to put my meal?”

“There’s a bit of space to your left,” Elend said offhandedly.

Sazed’s frown deepened. He stepped forward, gathering up the books and setting them on the floor beside Elend’s chair.

Elend continued to read. He did, however, raise a hand to gesture. “See, now, that’s why I don’t ever use Terrismen servants. They’re an insufferably efficient lot, I must say.”

“Sazed is hardly insufferable,” Vin said coolly. “He is a good friend, and is probably a better man than you will ever be, Lord Venture.”

Elend finally looked up. “I’m . . . sorry,” he said in a frank tone. “I apologize.”

Vin nodded. Elend, however, opened his book and began reading again.

Why sit with me if he’s just going to read? “What did you do at these parties before you had me to pester?” she asked in an annoyed tone.

“See, now, how can I be pestering you?” he asked. “I mean, really, Valette. I’m just sitting here, reading quietly to myself.”

“At my table. I’m certain you could get your own—you’re the Venture heir. Not that you were forthcoming about that fact during our last meeting.”

“True,” Elend said. “I do, however, recall telling you that the Ventures were an annoying lot. I’m just trying to live up to the description.”

“You’re the one that made up the description!”

“Convenient, that,” Elend said, smiling slightly as he read.

Vin sighed in frustration, scowling.

Elend peeked up over his book. “That’s a stunning dress. It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”

Vin froze, jaw hanging open slightly. Elend smiled mischievously, then turned back to his book, eyes sparkling as if to indicate that he’d made the comment simply because he knew the reaction he’d get.

Sazed loomed over the table, not bothering to mask his disapproval. Yet, he said nothing. Elend was obviously too important to be chastised by a simple steward.