Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [430]
“I’m not his consort,” Vin said, flushing. “We’re just…” Lord, even I don’t understand our relationship. How am I supposed to explain it?
Tindwyl raised an eyebrow.
“All right,” Vin said, sighing and walking forward.
“I’ll go with you,” Allrianne said, grabbing Vin’s arm as if they had been friends since childhood. Vin resisted, but couldn’t figure a way to pry her off without making a scene.
They stepped out of the shop. The crowd was already large, and the periphery was filling as more and more people came to investigate. Most were skaa in brown, ash-stained work coats or simple gray dresses. The ones in the front backed away as Vin stepped out, giving her a little ring of empty space, and a murmur of awed excitement moved through the crowd.
“Wow,” Allrianne said quietly. “There sure are a lot of them….”
Vin nodded. OreSeur sat where he had before, near the door, and he watched her with a curious canine expression.
Allrianne smiled at the crowd, waving with a sudden hesitance. “You can, you know, fight them off or something if this turns messy, right?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Vin said, finally slipping her arm free of Allrianne’s grasp and giving the crowd a bit of a Soothing to calm them. After that, she stepped forward, trying to push down her sense of itching nervousness. She’d grown to no longer feel she needed to hide when she went out in public, but standing before a crowd like this…well, she almost turned and slinked back into the dressmaker’s shop.
A voice, however, stopped her. The speaker was a middle-aged man with an ash-stained beard and a dirty black cap held nervously in his hands. He was a strong man, probably a mill worker. His quiet voice seemed a contrast to his powerful build. “Lady Heir. What will become of us?”
The terror—the uncertainty—in the large man’s voice was so piteous that Vin hesitated. He regarded her with hopeful eyes, as did most of the others.
So many, Vin thought. I thought the Church of the Survivor was small. She looked at the man, who stood wringing his cap. She opened her mouth, but then…couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t know what would happen; she couldn’t explain to those eyes that she wasn’t the savior that he needed.
“Everything will be all right,” Vin heard herself say, increasing her Soothing, trying to take away some of their fear.
“But the armies, Lady Heir!” one of the women said.
“They’re trying to intimidate us,” Vin said. “But the king won’t let them. Our walls are strong, as are our soldiers. We can outlast this siege.”
The crowd was silent.
“One of those armies is led by Elend’s father, Straff Venture,” Vin said. “Elend and I are going to go meet with Straff tomorrow. We will persuade him to be our ally.”
“The king is going to surrender!” a voice said. “I heard it. He’s going to trade the city for his life.”
“No,” Vin said. “He would never do that!!”
“He won’t fight for us!” a voice called. “He’s not a soldier. He’s a politician!”
Other voices called out in agreement. Reverence disappeared as people began to yell out concerns, while others began to demand help. The dissidents continued to rail against Elend, yelling that there was no way he could protect them.
Vin raised her hands to her ears. Trying to ward off the crowd, the chaos. “Stop!” she yelled, Pushing out with steel and brass. Several people stumbled back away from her, and she could see a wave in the crowd as buttons, coins, and buckles suddenly pressed backward.
The people grew suddenly quiet.
“I will suffer no ill words spoken of our king!” Vin said, flaring her brass and increasing her Soothing. “He is a good man, and a good leader. He has sacrificed much for you—your freedom comes because of his long hours spent drafting laws, and your livelihoods come because of his work securing trade routes and agreements with merchants.”
Many members of the crowd looked down. The bearded man at the front continued to twist his cap, however, looking at Vin. “They’re just right frightened, Lady Heir. Right