Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn, #1)

Liese was younger than Elend, closer to her own age. He probably wasn’t very experienced with balls—he certainly didn’t look like he’d danced much. He focused so much on the steps that his motions felt rigid.

It makes sense, Vin realized, relaxing and letting her body move in the motions Sazed had taught. The experienced ones wouldn’t ask me to dance, not when I’m so new. I’m beneath their notice.

But, why is Elend paying attention to me? Is it simply what Sazed said—a ploy to annoy his father? Why, then, does he seem interested in what I have to say?

“Lord Liese,” Vin said. “Do you know much of Elend Venture?”

Liese looked up. “Um, I . . .”

“Don’t focus so much on the dancing,” Vin said. “My instructor says that it will flow more naturally if you don’t try too hard.”

He blushed.

Lord Ruler! Vin thought. How fresh is this boy?

“Um, Lord Venture . . .” Liese said. “I don’t know. He’s a very important person. Far more important than I am.”

“Don’t let his lineage intimidate you,” Vin said. “From what I’ve seen, he’s pretty harmless.”

“I don’t know, my lady,” Liese said. “Venture is a very influential house.”

“Yes, well, Elend doesn’t live up to that reputation. He seems very fond of ignoring those in his company—does he do that to everyone?”

Liese shrugged, dancing more naturally now that they were talking. “I don’t know. You . . . seem to know him better than I, my lady.”

“I . . .” Vin trailed off. She felt as if she knew him well—far better than she should know a man after two brief encounters. She couldn’t very well explain that to Liese, however.

But, maybe . . . Didn’t Renoux say that he’d met Elend once?

“Oh, Elend is a friend of the family,” Vin said as they spun beneath a crystalline skylight.

“He is?”

“Yes,” Vin said. “It was very kind of my uncle to ask Elend to watch over me at these parties, and so far he’s been quite a dear. I do wish that he’d pay less attention to those books of his and more attention to introducing me, though.”

Liese perked up, and he seemed to grow a little less insecure. “Oh. Why, that makes sense.”

“Yes,” Vin said, “Elend has been like an older brother to me during my time here in Luthadel.”

Liese smiled.

“I ask you about him because he doesn’t speak much of himself,” Vin said.

“The Ventures have all been quiet lately,” Liese said. “Ever since the attack on their keep several months back.”

Vin nodded. “You know much about that?”

Liese shook his head. “No one tells me anything.” He glanced down, watching their feet. “You’re very good at dancing, Lady Renoux. You must have attended many balls back in your home city.”

“You flatter me, my lord,” Vin said.

“No, really. You’re so . . . graceful.”

Vin smiled, feeling a slight surge of confidence.

“Yes,” Liese said, almost to himself. “You’re not at all like Lady Shan said—” He stopped, jerking slightly, as if realizing what he was saying.

“What?” Vin said.

“Nothing,” Liese said, his blush rising. “I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

Lady Shan, Vin thought. Remember that name.

She prodded Liese further as the dance progressed, but he was obviously too inexperienced to know much. He did feel that there was a tension rising between the houses; though the balls continued, there were more and more absences as people didn’t attend parties thrown by their political rivals.

When the dance ended, Vin felt good about her efforts. She probably hadn’t discovered much of value to Kelsier—however, Liese was only the beginning. She’d work up to more important people.

Which means, Vin thought as Liese led her back to her table, I’m going to have to attend a lot more of these balls. It wasn’t that the balls themselves were unpleasant—especially now that she was more confident in her dancing. However, more balls meant fewer chances to be out in the mists.

Not that Sazed would let me go anyway, she thought with an inward sigh, smiling politely as Liese bowed and retreated.

Elend had spread his books across the table, and her alcove was lit by several more candelabra—apparently filched from other tables.

Well, Vin thought, we’ve at least got thieving in common.

Elend hunched over the table, making notations in a small, pocket-sized book. He didn’t look up as she sat. Sazed, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen.

“I sent the Terrisman to dinner,” Elend said distractedly as he scribbled. “No need for him to go hungry while you twirled down below.”

Vin raised an eyebrow, regarding the books that dominated her tabletop. Even as she watched, Elend pushed one tome aside—leaving it open to a specific page—and pulled over another. “So, how was the aforementioned twirling, anyway?” he said.

“It was actually kind of fun.”

“I thought you weren’t very good at it.”

“I wasn’t,” Vin said. “I practiced. You may find this information surprising, but sitting in the back of a room reading books in the dark doesn’t exactly help one become a better dancer.”

“Is that a proposition?” Elend asked, pushing aside his book and selecting another. “It’s unladylike to ask a man to dance, you know.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your reading,” Vin said, turning a book toward her. She grimaced—the text was written in a small, cramped hand. “Besides, dancing with you would undermine all of the work I just did.”

Elend paused. Then he finally looked up. “Work?”

“Yes,” Vin said. “Sazed was right—Lord Liese finds you intimidating, and he found me intimidating by association. It could be quite disastrous to a young lady’s social life if all of the young men assumed her unavailable simply because an annoying lord decided to study at her table.”

“So . . .” Elend said.

“So I told him that you were simply showing me the ways of court. Kind of like an . . . older brother.”

“Older brother?” Elend asked, frowning.

“Much older,” Vin said, smiling. “I mean, you’ve got to be at least twice my age.”

“Twice your . . . Valette, I’m twenty-one. Unless you’re a very mature ten-year-old, I’m nowhere near ‘twice your age!’”

“I’ve never been good with math,” Vin said offhandedly.

Elend sighed, rolling his eyes. Nearby, Lord Liese was speaking quietly with his group of friends, gesturing toward Vin and Elend. Hopefully, one would come ask her to dance soon.

“Do you know a Lady Shan?” Vin asked idly as she waited.

Surprisingly, Elend looked up. “Shan Elariel?”

“I assume so,” Vin said. “Who is she?”

Elend turned back to his book. “Nobody important.”

Vin raised an eyebrow. “Elend, I’ve only been doing this for a few months, but even I know not to trust a comment like that.”

“Well . . .” Elend said. “I might be engaged to her.”

“You have a fiancée?” Vin asked with exasperation.

“I’m not exactly sure. We haven’t really done anything about the situation for a year or so. Everyone’s likely forgotten the matter by now.”

Great, Vin thought.

A moment later, one of Liese’s friends approached. Glad to be rid of the frustrating Venture heir, Vin stood, accepting the young lord’s hand. As she walked to the dance floor, she glanced at Elend, and caught him peeking over the book at her. He immediately turned back to his research with an overtly indifferent air.



Vin sat down at her table, feeling a remarkable level of exhaustion. She resisted the urge to pull off her shoes and massage her feet; she suspected that wouldn’t be very ladylike. She quietly turned on her copper, then burned pewter, strengthening her body and washing away a bit of her fatigue.