Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [769]
Elend smiled, glancing at his cabin again. It was good to hear Ham acting like himself. Cett protested Ham’s comments almost as much as Breeze did. In fact . . . Maybe that’s why Ham hasn’t been quite so prone to his little logic puzzles lately, Elend thought. There hasn’t been anyone around to complain about them.
“So, Elend . . .” Cett said. “If you die, I’m in charge, right?”
“Vin will take command if something happens to me,” Elend said. “You know that.”
“Right,” Cett said. “And if both of you die?”
“Sazed is next in the imperial succession after Vin, Cett. We’ve discussed that.”
“Yes, but what about this army?” Cett said. “Sazed is off in Urteau. Who leads these men until we meet up with him?”
Elend sighed. “If, somehow, Yomen manages to kill both Vin and myself, then I suggest that you run—because yes, you’d be in charge here, and the Mistborn who killed us is likely to come for you next.”
Cett smiled in satisfaction, though Ham frowned at this.
“You’ve never wanted titles, Ham,” Elend pointed out. “And you’ve chafed at every leadership position I’ve given you.”
“I know,” he said. “But what about Demoux?”
“Cett has more experience,” Elend said. “He’s a better man than he pretends, Ham. I trust him. That will have to be enough for you. Cett, if things turn bad, I charge you with returning to Luthadel and searching out Sazed to tell him that he’s emperor. Now, I think that—”
Elend paused as the door to his cabin opened. He turned, putting on his best consoling smile, then froze.
Vin stood in the doorway wearing a stunning black gown with silver trim, cut after a modern fashion. Somehow, it managed to look sleek despite the bell-shaped skirt, which fanned out with petticoats. Her pure black hair, which she often wore pulled back in a tail, was down, and it now reached to her collarbone, neatly trimmed and curling just slightly. The only jewelry she wore was her simple earring, the one she’d gotten from her mother when she was just a child.
He always thought she was beautiful. And yet . . . how long had it been since he’d seen her in a gown, with her hair and makeup done? He tried to say something, give her a compliment, but his voice just kind of trailed off.
She walked over on light feet, kissing him briefly. “I’ll take that as an indication that I managed to put this thing on right. I’d forgotten what a pain gowns could be. And the makeup! Honestly, Elend, you’re never allowed to complain about those suits of yours again.”
Beside them, Ham was chuckling. Vin turned. “What?”
“Ah, Vin,” Ham said, leaning back and folding his muscular arms, “when did you go and grow up on me? It seems like just last week you were scrambling about, hiding in corners, wearing the haircut of a boy and the attitude of a mouse.”
Vin smiled fondly. “Do you remember when we first met? You thought I was a twixt.”
Ham nodded. “Breeze nearly fainted dead away when he found we’d been talking with a Mistborn all that time! Honestly, Vin. Sometimes I can’t believe that you were that same frightened girl Kelsier brought into the crew.”
“It has been five years, Ham. I’m twenty-one now.”
“I know,” Ham said, sighing. “You’re like my own children, adults before I had time to know them as kids. In fact, I probably know you and El better than I know any of them . . .”
“You’ll get back to them, Ham,” Vin said, reaching over and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Once this is all over.”
“Oh, I know that,” he said, smiling, ever the optimist. “But, you can never have back what you’ve missed. I hope all this turns out to be worth it.”
Elend shook his head, finally finding his voice. “I have only one thing to say. If that dress is what the cooking girls are wearing, I’m paying them far too much.”
Vin laughed.
“Seriously, Vin,” Elend said. “The army’s tailors are good, but there’s no way that dress came from materials we had in camp. Where did you get it?”
“It’s a mystery,” Vin said, narrowing her eyes and smiling. “We Mistborn are