Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [240]
“What’s wrong with this?” Vin asked, nodding toward her clothing. “It’s not that much more revealing than some of the thief’s clothing I’ve worn.”
“Those are undergarments, Vin,” Dockson said.
“So?”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Dockson said. “Young ladies do not run around in their undergarments, no matter how much those undergarments may resemble regular clothing.”
Vin shrugged, sitting as Sazed held a bandage to her arm. She seemed…exhausted. And not just from the fighting. What else happened at that party?
“Where did you fight the Elariel woman?” Kelsier asked.
“Outside Keep Venture,” Vin said, looking down. “I…think some of the guards spotted me. Some of the nobles might have too, I’m not certain.”
“That’s going to be trouble,” Dockson said, sighing. “Of course, that cheek wound is going to be pretty obvious, even with makeup. Honestly, you Allomancers…Don’t you ever worry about what you’re going to look like the day after you get into one of these fights?”
“I was kind of focused on staying alive, Dox,” Vin said.
“He’s just complaining because he’s worried about you,” Kelsier said as Ham returned with the bag. “That’s what he does.”
“Both wounds will require immediate stitching, Mistress,” Sazed said. “The one on your arm hit the bone, I think.”
Vin nodded, and Sazed rubbed her arm with a numbing agent, then began to work. She bore it without much visible discomfort—though she obviously had her pewter flared.
She looks so exhausted, Kelsier thought. She was such a frail-looking thing, mostly just arms and legs. Hammond put a cloak around her shoulders, but she appeared too tired to care.
And I brought her into this.
Of course, she should know better than to get herself into this kind of trouble. Eventually, Sazed finished his efficient sewing, then tied a new bandage around the arm wound. He moved onto the cheek.
“Why would you fight a Mistborn?” Kelsier asked sternly. “You should have run. Didn’t you learn anything from your battle with the Inquisitors?”
“I couldn’t get away without turning my back on her,” Vin said. “Besides, she had more atium than me. If I hadn’t attacked, she would have chased me down. I had to strike while we were equally matched.”
“But how did you get into this in the first place?” Kelsier demanded. “Did she attack you?”
Vin glanced down at her feet. “I attacked first.”
“Why?” Kelsier asked.
Vin sat for a moment, Sazed working on her cheek. “She was going to kill Elend,” she finally said.
Kelsier exhaled in exasperation. “Elend Venture? You risked your life—risked the plan, and our lives—for that fool of a boy?”
Vin looked up, glaring at him. “Yes.”
“What is wrong with you, girl?” Kelsier asked. “Elend Venture isn’t worth this.”
She stood angrily, Sazed backing away, the cloak falling the floor. “He’s a good man!”
“He’s a nobleman!”
“So are you!” Vin snapped. She waved a frustrated arm toward the kitchen and the crew. “What do you think this is, Kelsier? The life of a skaa? What do any of you know about skaa? Aristocratic suits, stalking your enemies in the night, full meals and nightcaps around the table with your friends? That’s not the life of a skaa!”
She took a step forward, glaring at Kelsier. He blinked in surprise at the outburst.
“What do you know about them, Kelsier?” she asked. “When’s the last time you slept in an alley, shivering in the cold rain, listening to the beggar next to you cough with a sickness you knew would kill him? When’s the last time you had to lay awake at night, terrified that one of the men in your crew would try to rape you? Have you ever knelt, starving, wishing you had the courage to knife the crewmember beside you just so you could take his crust of bread? Have you ever cowered before your brother as he beat you, all the time feeling thankful because at least you had someone who paid attention to you?”
She fell silent, puffing slightly, the crewmembers staring at her.
“Don’t talk to me about noblemen,” Vin said. “And don’t say things about people you don’t know. You’re no skaa—you’re just noblemen without