Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [179]
“And if I should instead tell Elend what you’re planning?”
Shan laughed. “My dear, you don’t know what I’m planning. Besides, you seem to be making some headway in court. Surely you realize that betraying me is not something you want to even contemplate.”
With that, Shan walked off, immediately gathering a collection of hangers-on from the surrounding nobility. Shan’s Soothing weakened, and Vin felt her frustration and anger rise. There had been a time when she would have simply scampered away, ego already too beaten down to be bothered by Shan’s insults. This night, however, she found herself wishing for a way to strike back.
Calm yourself. This is a good thing. You’ve become a pawn in Great House plans—most lesser nobility probably dream of such an opportunity.
She sighed, retreating toward the now empty table she had shared with Milen. The ball this evening was being held at the marvelous Keep Hasting. Its tall, round central keep was attended by six auxiliary towers, each set off from the main building a short distance and connected to it by walltop walkways. All seven towers were set with winding, curving patterns of stained glass.
The ballroom was at the top of the wide central tower. Fortunately, a system of skaa-powered pulley platforms kept noble guests from having to walk all the way to the top. The ballroom itself wasn’t as spectacular as some Vin had visited—just a squarish chamber with vaulted ceilings and colored glass running around the perimeter.
Funny, how easily one can become jaded, Vin thought. Perhaps that’s how the noblemen can do such terrible things. They’ve been killing for so long that it doesn’t unsettle them anymore.
She asked a servant to go fetch Sazed, then sat down to rest her feet. I wish Kelsier would hurry up and get back, she thought. The crew, Vin included, seemed less motivated without him around. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to work; Kelsier’s snappy wit and optimism just helped keep her moving.
Vin looked up idly, and her eyes caught sight of Elend Venture standing just a short distance away, chatting with a small group of young noblemen. She froze. Part of her—the Vin part—wanted to scurry away and hide. She’d fit beneath a table, dress and all.
Oddly, however, she found her Valette side stronger. I have to talk to him, she thought. Not because of Shan, but because I have to find out the truth. Dockson was exaggerating. He had to be.
When had she grown so confrontational? Even as she stood, Vin was amazed at her firm resolve. She crossed the ballroom—checking her black dress briefly as she walked. One of Elend’s companions tapped him on the shoulder, nodding toward Vin. Elend turned, and the other two men withdrew.
“Why, Valette,” he said as she paused in front of him. “I arrived late. I didn’t even know you were here.”
Liar. Of course you knew. Valette wouldn’t miss the Hasting Ball. How to broach it? How to ask? “You’ve been avoiding me,” she said.
“Now, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve just been busy. House issues, you know. Besides, I warned you that I was rude, and…” he trailed off. “Valette? Is everything all right?”
Vin realized she was sniffling slightly, and she felt a tear on her cheek. Idiot! she thought, dabbing her eyes with Lestibournes’s handkerchief. You’ll ruin your makeup!
“Valette, you’re shaking!” Elend said with concern. “Here, let’s go to the balcony and get you some fresh air.”
She let him lead her away from the sounds of music and chattering people, and they stepped into the quiet, dark air. The balcony—one of many jutting from the top of the central Hasting tower—was empty. A single stone lantern stood as part of the railing, and some tastefully placed plants lined the corners.
Mist floated in the air, prevalent as ever, though the balcony was close enough to the keep’s warmth that the mist was weak. Elend didn’t pay any attention to it. He, like most noblemen, considered fear of the mist to be a foolish skaa superstition—which, Vin supposed, was right.
“Now, what is this about?” Elend asked.