SHE DECIDED TO WEAR THE RED dress. It was definitely the boldest choice, but that felt right. After all, she hid her true self behind an

aristocratic appearance; the more visible that appearance was, the easier it should be for her to hide.

A footman opened the carriage door. Vin took a deep breath—chest a

little confined by the special corset she was wearing to hide her bandages— then accepted the footman’s hand and climbed down. She straightened her dress, nodded to Sazed, then joined the other aristocrats making their way up the steps to Keep Elariel. It was a bit smaller than the keep of House Venture. However, Keep Elariel apparently had a separate party ballroom, while House Venture had its gatherings in the enormous main hall.

Vin eyed the other noblewomen, and felt a bit of her confidence vanish.

Her dress was beautiful, but the other women had so much more than just gowns. Their long, flowing hair and self-assured airs matched their bejeweled figures. They filled out the upper portions of their dresses with voluptuous curves, and moved elegantly in the frilled splendor of the lower folds. Vin occasionally caught glimpses of the women’s feet, and they didn’t wear simple slippers like her own, but rather high-heeled shoes.

“Why don’t I have shoes like that?” she asked quietly as they climbed the carpet-covered stairs.

“Heels take practice to walk in, Mistress,” Sazed replied. “Since you’ve only just learned to dance, it might be best if you wore regular shoes for a

time.”

Vin frowned, but accepted the explanation. Sazed’s mention of dancing, however, increased her discomfort. She remembered the flowing poise of

the dancers at her last ball. She certainly wouldn’t be able to imitate that— she barely even knew the basic steps.

That won’t matter, she thought. They won’t see me—they’ll see Lady Valette. She’s supposed to be new and uncertain, and everyone thinks she’s been ill lately. It will make sense for her to be a poor dancer.

That thought in mind, Vin reached the top of the stairs feeling a bit more secure.

“I must say, Mistress,” Sazed said. “You seem far less nervous this time

—in fact, you even seem excited. This is the proper attitude for Valette to display, I think.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. He was right: She was excited. Excited to be part of the job again—excited, even, to be back among the nobility, with their splendor and grace.

They stepped up to the squat ballroom building—one of several low wings extending from the main keep—and a servant took her shawl. Vin paused a moment just inside the doorway, waiting as Sazed arranged her table and meal.

The Elariel ballroom was very different from the majestic Venture grand hall. The dim room was only a single story high, and while it had a lot of

stained-glass windows, they were all in the ceiling. Circular rose-window skylights shone from above, lit by small limelights on the roof. Each table

was set with candles, and despite the light from above, there was a reserved darkness about the room. It seemed…private, despite the numerous people in attendance.

This room had obviously been designed to accommodate parties. A sunken dancing floor lay at its center, and this was better lit than the rest of the room. There were two tiers of tables circling the dancing floor: The first tier was only a few feet above, the other was farther back and about twice

as high.

A servant led her to a table at the rim of the room. She sat, Sazed taking his customary place beside her, and began to wait for her meal to arrive.

“How exactly am I supposed to get the information Kelsier wants?” she asked quietly, scanning the dark room. The deep, crystalline colors from

above projected patterns across tables and people, creating an impressive atmosphere, yet making it difficult to distinguish faces. Was Elend here

somewhere amidst the ball-goers?

“Tonight, some men should ask you to dance,” Sazed said. “Accept their invitations—this will give you an excuse to seek them out later and

mingle in their groups. You don’t need to participate in conversations—you just have to listen. At future balls, perhaps some of the young men will begin to ask you to accompany them. Then you’ll be able to sit at their table and listen to all of their discussions.”

“You mean, sit with one man the entire time?”

Sazed nodded. “It’s not uncommon. You would dance only with him that night as well.”

Vin frowned. However, she let the matter drop, turning to inspect the room again. He’s probably not even here—he said he avoided balls when possible. Even if he were here, he’d be off on his own. You won’t even—

A muted thump sounded as someone dropped a stack of books onto her table. Vin jumped in startlement, turning as Elend Venture pulled over a chair, then sat down with a relaxed posture. He leaned back in the chair, angling toward a candelabrum beside her table, and opened a book to begin reading.

Sazed frowned. Vin hid a smile, eyeing Elend. He still didn’t look as if he had bothered to brush his hair, and again wore his suit without the

buttons done up. The garment wasn’t shabby, but nor was it as rich as others at the party. It seemed to have been tailored to be loose and relaxed, defying the traditional sharp, well-cut fashion.

Elend flipped through his book. Vin waited patiently for him to

acknowledge her, but he just continued to read. Finally, Vin raised an

eyebrow. “I don’t remember giving you permission to sit at my table, Lord Venture,” she said.

“Don’t mind me,” Elend said, not looking up. “You’ve got a big table— there’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“Both of us, perhaps,” Vin said. “But I’m not sure about those books.

Where are the servers going to put my meal?”

“There’s a bit of space to your left,” Elend said offhandedly.

Sazed’s frown deepened. He stepped forward, gathering up the books and setting them on the floor beside Elend’s chair.

Elend continued to read. He did, however, raise a hand to gesture. “See, now, that’s why I don’t ever use Terrismen servants. They’re an insufferably efficient lot, I must say.”

“Sazed is hardly insufferable,” Vin said coolly. “He is a good friend, and is probably a better man than you will ever be, Lord Venture.”

Elend finally looked up. “I’m…sorry,” he said in a frank tone. “I apologize.”

Vin nodded. Elend, however, opened his book and began reading again.

Why sit with me if he’s just going to read? “What did you do at these parties before you had me to pester?” she asked in an annoyed tone.

“See, now, how can I be pestering you?” he asked. “I mean, really, Valette. I’m just sitting here, reading quietly to myself.”

“At my table. I’m certain you could get your own—you’re the Venture heir. Not that you were forthcoming about that fact during our last

meeting.”

“True,” Elend said. “I do, however, recall telling you that the Ventures were an annoying lot. I’m just trying to live up to the description.”

“You’re the one that made up the description!” “Convenient, that,” Elend said, smiling slightly as he read. Vin sighed in frustration, scowling.

Elend peeked up over his book. “That’s a stunning dress. It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”

Vin froze, jaw hanging open slightly. Elend smiled mischievously, then turned back to his book, eyes sparkling as if to indicate that he’d made the comment simply because he knew the reaction he’d get.

Sazed loomed over the table, not bothering to mask his disapproval. Yet, he said nothing. Elend was obviously too important to be chastised by a

simple steward.

Vin finally found her tongue. “How is it, Lord Venture, that an eligible man like yourself comes to these balls alone?”

“Oh, I don’t,” Elend said. “My family usually has one girl or another lined up to accompany me. Tonight’s fare is the Lady Stase Blanches— she’s the one in the green dress sitting on the lower tier across from us.”

Vin glanced across the room. Lady Blanches was a gorgeous blond woman. She kept glancing up at Vin’s table, covering a scowl.

Vin flushed, turning away. “Um, shouldn’t you be down there with her?”

“Probably,” Elend said. “But, see, I’ll tell you a secret. The truth is, I’m not really much of a gentleman. Besides, I didn’t invite her—it wasn’t until I got into the carriage that I was informed regarding my accompaniment.”

“I see,” Vin said with a frown.

“My behavior is, nonetheless, deplorable. Unfortunately, I’m quite

prone to such bouts of deplorability—take, for instance, my fondness for reading books at the dinner table. Excuse me for a moment; I’m going to go get something to drink.”

He stood, tucking the book into his pocket, and walked toward one of the room’s bar tables. Vin watched him go, both annoyed and bemused.

“This is not good, Mistress,” Sazed said in a low tone. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s using you, Mistress,” Sazed said. “Lord Venture is infamous for his unconventional, disobedient attitude. Many people dislike him— precisely because he does things like this.”

“Like this?”

“He is sitting with you because he knows that it will annoy his family,” Sazed said. “Oh, child—I do not wish to bring you pain, but you must understand the ways of the court. This young man is not romantically interested in you. He is a young, arrogant lord who chafes at his father’s restrictions—so he rebels, acting rude and offensive. He knows that his father will relent if he acts spoiled enough for long enough.”

Vin felt her stomach twist. Sazed’s probably right, of course. Why else would Elend seek me out? I’m exactly what he needs—someone lowborn enough to annoy his father, but inexperienced enough not to see the truth.

Her meal arrived, but Vin didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. She began to pick at the food as Elend returned, settling down with a large goblet filled with some mixed drink. He sipped as he read.

Let’s see how he reacts if I don’t interrupt his reading, Vin thought in annoyance, remembering her lessons, and eating her food with a lady’s grace. It wasn’t a large meal—mostly some rich, buttered vegetables—and the sooner she finished, the sooner she could get to dancing. At least then she wouldn’t have to sit with Elend Venture.

The young lord paused several times as she ate, peeking at her over the top of his book. He obviously expected her to say something, but she never

did. As she ate, however, her anger faded. She glanced at Elend, studying his slightly disheveled appearance, watching the earnestness with which he

read his book. Could this man really hide the twisted sense of manipulation Sazed implied? Was he really just using her?

Anyone will betray you, Reen whispered. Everyone will betray you.

Elend just seemed so…genuine. He felt like a real person, not a front or a face. And it did seem like he wanted her to talk to him. It felt like a personal victory to Vin when he finally sat the book down and looked at her.

“Why are you here, Valette?” he asked. “Here at the party?”

“No, here in Luthadel.”

“Because it’s the center of everything,” Vin said.

Elend frowned. “I suppose it is. But, the empire is a big place to have such a small center. I don’t think we really understand how large it is. How long did it take you to get here?”

Vin felt a moment of panic, but Sazed’s lessons snapped quickly into her mind. “Almost two months by canal, with some stops.”

“Such a long time,” Elend said. “They say it can take half a year to travel from one end of the empire to the other, yet most of us ignore everything but this little bit at the center.”

“I…” Vin trailed off. With Reen, she’d been all across the Central Dominance. It was the smallest of the dominances, however, and she’d never visited the more exotic places in the empire. This central area was good for thieves; oddly, the place closest to the Lord Ruler was also the one with the most corruption, not to mention the most riches.

“What do you think of the city, then?” Elend asked.

Vin paused. “It’s…dirty,” she said honestly. In the dim light, a servant arrived to remove her empty plate. “It’s dirty, and it’s full. The skaa are treated terribly, but I guess that’s true everywhere.”

Elend cocked his head, giving her a strange look.

I shouldn’t have mentioned the skaa. That wasn’t very noble-like.

He leaned forward. “You think the skaa here are treated worse than the ones on your plantation? I always thought they would be better off in the city.”

“Um…I’m not sure. I didn’t go to the fields very often.” “So, you didn’t interact with them very much?”

Vin shrugged. “Why does it matter? They’re just skaa.”

“See, now, that’s what we always say,” Elend said. “But I don’t know.

Maybe I’m too curious, but they interest me. Did you ever hear them talk to one another? Did they sound like regular people?”

“What?” Vin asked. “Of course they did. What else would they sound like?”

“Well, you know what the Ministry teaches.”

She didn’t. However, if it was regarding the skaa, it probably wasn’t flattering. “I make it a rule to never completely believe anything the Ministry says.”

Elend paused again, cocking his head. “You’re…not what I expected, Lady Valette.”

“People rarely are.”

“So, tell me about the plantation skaa. What are they like?” Vin shrugged. “Like skaa everywhere else.”

“Are they intelligent?” “Some are.”

“But, not like you and me, right?” Elend asked.

Vin paused. How would a noblewoman respond? “No, of course not.

They’re just skaa. Why are you so interested in them?”

Elend seemed…disappointed. “No reason,” he said, sitting back in his chair and opening his book. “I think some of those men over there want to ask you to dance.”

Vin turned, noticing that there was indeed a group of young men standing a short distance from her table. They looked away as soon as she turned. After a few moments, one of the men pointed at another table; then he walked over and asked a young lady to dance.

“Several people have noticed you, my lady,” Sazed said. “However, they never approach. Lord Venture’s presence intimidates them, I think.”

Elend snorted. “They should know that I am anything but intimidating.” Vin frowned, but Elend just continued to read. Fine! she thought,

turning back toward the young men. She caught one man’s eye, smiling slightly.

A few moments later, the young man approached. He spoke to her in a stiff, formal tone. “Lady Renoux, I am Lord Melend Liese. Would you care to dance?”

Vin shot a glance at Elend, but he didn’t look up from his book.

“I would love to, Lord Liese,” Vin said, taking the young man’s hand and rising.

He led her down to the dance floor, and as they approached, Vin’s nervousness returned. Suddenly, one week of practice didn’t seem like

enough. The music stopped, allowing for couples to leave or enter the floor, and Lord Liese led her forward.

Vin fought down her paranoia, reminding herself that everyone saw the dress and the rank, not Vin herself. She looked up into Lord Liese’s eyes and saw, surprisingly, apprehension.

The music began, as did the dancing. Lord Liese’s face took on a look of consternation. She could feel his palm sweating in her hands. Why, he’s just as nervous as I am! Perhaps even more.

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.

She let her pewter, then her copper, lapse. Kelsier had assured her that with copper on, she couldn’t be spotted as an Allomancer. Vin wasn’t so certain. With pewter burning, her reactions were too fast, her body too strong. It seemed to her that an observant person would be able to notice such inconsistencies, whether or not they themselves were an Allomancer.

With the pewter off, her fatigue returned. She’d been trying to wean herself off constant pewter lately. Her wound was to the point that it only hurt badly if she twisted the wrong way, and she wanted to recover her strength on her own, if she could.

In a way, her fatigue this evening was a good thing—it was a result of an extended period of dancing. Now that the young men regarded Elend as a guardian, rather than a romantic interest, they had no qualms about asking Vin to dance. And, worried that she would make an unintended political statement by refusing, Vin had agreed to each request. A few months ago,

she would have laughed at the idea of exhaustion from dancing. However, her sore feet, aching side, and tired legs were only part of it. The effort of memorizing names and houses—not to mention putting up with her dancing partners’ fluffy conversation—left her mentally drained.

It’s a good thing Sazed had me wear slippers instead of heels, Vin thought with a sigh, sipping her chilled juice. The Terrisman hadn’t returned from his dinner yet. Notably, Elend wasn’t at the table either—though his

books still lay scattered across its top.

Vin eyed the tomes. Perhaps if she appeared to be reading, the young men would leave her alone for a bit. She reached over, rifling through the books for a likely candidate. The one she was most interested in—Elend’s small, leather-bound notebook—was missing.

Instead, she picked a large, blue tome and hefted it over to her side of the table. She had picked it for its large lettering—was paper really so

expensive that scribes needed to cram as many lines to a page as possible? Vin sighed, leafing through the volume.

I can’t believe people read books this big, she thought. Despite the large lettering, each page was filled with words. It would take days and days to read the entire thing. Reen had taught her reading so that she would be able to decipher contracts, write notes, and perhaps play a noblewoman.

However, her training hadn’t extended to texts this massive.

Historical Practices in Imperial Political Rule, the first page read. The chapters had titles like “The Fifth Century Governorship Program” and

“The Rise of Skaa Plantations.” She flipped through to the end of the book, figuring it would probably be the most interesting. The final chapter was titled “Current Political Structure.”

So far, she read, the plantation system has produced a far more stable government than previous methodologies. The structure of Dominances with each provincial lord taking command of—and responsibility for—his skaa has fostered a competitive environment where discipline is harshly

enforced.

The Lord Ruler apparently finds this system troubling because of the freedom it allows the aristocracy. However, the relative lack of organized rebellion is undoubtedly enticing; during the two hundred years that the system has been in place, there hasn’t been a major uprising in the Five

Inner Dominances.

Of course, this political system is only an extension of the greater

theocratic rulership. The aristocracy’s independence has been tempered by a renewed vigor in obligator enforcement. No lord, no matter how lofty, would be advised to think himself above their law. The call from an

Inquisitor can come to anyone.

Vin frowned. While the text itself was dry, she was surprised that the Lord Ruler allowed such analytical discussions of his empire. She settled back in her chair, holding up the book, but she didn’t read any more. She was too exhausted from the hours she had spent covertly trying to wiggle information out of her dancing partners.

Unfortunately, politics didn’t pay heed to Vin’s state of exhaustion.

Though she did her best to appear absorbed in Elend’s book, a figure soon approached her table.

Vin sighed, preparing herself for another dance. She soon realized, however, that the newcomer wasn’t a nobleman, but a Terrisman steward. Like Sazed, he wore robes with overlapping V designs, and was very fond of jewelry.

“Lady Valette Renoux?” the tall man asked in a faintly accented voice. “Yes,” Vin said hesitantly.

“My mistress, Lady Shan Elariel, requires your presence at her table.”

Requires? Vin thought. She already didn’t like that tone, and she had little desire to meet with Elend’s former betrothed. Unfortunately, House

Elariel was one of the more powerful Great Houses—probably not someone to dismiss offhandedly.

The Terrisman waited expectantly.

“Very well,” Vin said, rising with as much grace as she could muster. The Terrisman led Vin toward a table a short distance from her own.

The table was well attended, with five women seated around it, and Vin picked out Shan immediately. Lady Elariel was obviously the statuesque woman with long dark hair. She wasn’t participating in the conversation, but seemed to dominate it nonetheless. Her arms sparkled with lavender

bracelets that matched her dress, and she turned dismissive eyes toward Vin as she approached.

Those dark eyes, however, were keen. Vin felt exposed before them— stripped of her fine dress, reduced to a dirty urchin once again.

“Excuse us, ladies,” Shan said. The women immediately did as ordered, departing the table in a stately flurry.

Shan picked up a fork and began to meticulously dissect and devour a small piece of dessert cake. Vin stood uncertainly, the Terrisman steward taking up a position behind Shan’s chair.

“You may sit,” Shan said.

I feel like a skaa again, Vin thought, sitting. Noblemen treat each other this way too?

“You are in an enviable position, child,” Shan said. “How is that?” Vin asked.

“Address me as ‘Lady Shan,’” Shan said, her tone unchanged. “Or, perhaps, ‘Your Ladyship.’”

Shan waited expectantly, taking petite bites of the cake. Finally, Vin said, “Why is that, Your Ladyship?”

“Because young Lord Venture has decided to use you in his games. That means you have the opportunity to be used by me as well.”

Vin frowned. Remember to stay in character. You’re the easily intimidated Valette.

“Wouldn’t it would be better to not be used at all, Your Ladyship?” Vin said carefully.

“Nonsense,” Shan replied. “Even an uncultured simpleton like yourself must see the importance of being useful to your betters.” Shan said the words, even the insult, without vehemence; she simply seemed to take it for granted that Vin would agree.

Vin sat, dumbfounded. None of the other nobility had treated her in such a manner. Of course, the only member of a Great House she’d met so

far was Elend.

“I trust from your vapid look that you accept your place,” Shan said. “Do well, child, and perhaps I will let you join my retinue. You could learn much from the ladies here in Luthadel.”

“Such as?” Vin asked, trying to keep the snappishness out of her voice. “Look at yourself sometime, child. Hair like you’ve undergone some

terrible disease, so scrawny that your dress hangs like a bag. Being a noblewoman in Luthadel requires…perfection. Not that.” She said the last word while waving her hand dismissively toward Vin.

Vin flushed. There was a strange power to this woman’s demeaning attitude. With a start, Vin realized that Shan reminded her of some

crewleaders she had known, Camon the latest of them—men who would hit a person, fully expecting no resistance. Everyone knew that resisting such men only made the beating worse.

“What do you want from me?” Vin asked.

Shan raised an eyebrow as she set aside her fork, the cake only half- eaten. The Terrisman took the plate and walked off with it. “You really are a dull-minded thing, aren’t you?” Shan asked.

Vin paused. “What does Her Ladyship want from me?”

“I’ll tell you eventually—assuming Lord Venture decides to keep playing with you.” Vin caught just the barest flash of hatred in her eyes when she said Elend’s name.

“For now,” Shan continued, “tell me of your conversation with him this evening.”

Vin opened her mouth to respond. But…something felt wrong. She only caught the barest flicker of it—she wouldn’t have even noticed that much without Breeze’s training.

A Soother? Interesting.

Shan was trying to make Vin complacent. So that she would talk,

perhaps? Vin began to relate her conversation with Elend, staying away from anything interesting. However, something still felt odd to her— something about the way that Shan was playing with her emotions. From the corner of her eye, Vin saw Shan’s Terrisman return from the kitchens.

However, he didn’t walk back toward Shan’s table—he headed in the other direction.

Toward Vin’s own table. He paused beside it, and began to poke through Elend’s books.

Whatever he wants, I can’t let him find it.

Vin stood suddenly, finally provoking an overt reaction in Shan as the woman looked up with surprise.

“I just remembered that I told my Terrisman to find me at my table!” Vin said. “He’ll be worried if I’m not sitting there!”

“Oh, for the Lord Ruler’s sake,” Shan muttered under her breath. “Child, there is no need—”

“I’m sorry, Your Ladyship,” Vin said. “I’ve got to go.”

It was a bit obvious, but it was the best she could manage. Vin curtsied and withdrew from Shan’s table, leaving the displeased woman behind. The Terrisman was good—by the time Vin was a few steps away from Shan’s table, he had noticed Vin and continued on his way, his motions impressively smooth.

Vin arrived back at her table, wondering if she’d made a blunder by leaving Shan so rudely. However, she was growing too tired to care. As she noticed another group of young men eyeing her, she hurriedly sat, plopping open one of Elend’s books.

Fortunately, the ploy worked better this time. The young men eventually trailed away, leaving Vin in peace, and she sat back, relaxing slightly with

the book open before her. The evening was growing late, and the ballroom was slowly beginning to empty.

The books, she thought with a frown, picking up her cup of juice to take a sip. What did the Terrisman want with them?

She scanned the table, trying to notice if anything had been disturbed, but Elend had left the books in such a state of disarray that it was hard to tell. However, a small book sitting beneath another tome caught her eye. Most of the other texts lay open to a specific page, and she had seen Elend perusing them. This particular book, however, was closed—and she couldn’t remember him ever opening it. It had been there before—she recognized it because it was so much thinner than the others—so the Terrisman hadn’t left it behind.

Curious, Vin reached over and slid the book out from underneath the larger book. It had had a black leather cover, and the spine read Weather

Patterns of the Northern Dominance. Vin frowned, turning the book over in her hands. There was no title page, nor was an author listed. It launched directly into text.

When regarding the Final Empire in its entirety, one certain fact is unmistakable. For a nation ruled by a self-proclaimed divinity, the empire has experienced a frightening number of colossal leadership errors. Most of these have been successfully covered up, and can only be found in the metalminds of Feruchemists or on the pages of banned texts. However, one only need look to the near past to note such blunders as the Massacre at Devanex, the revision of the

Deepness Doctrine, and the relocation of the Renates peoples.

The Lord Ruler does not age. That much, at least, is undeniable.

This text, however, purports to prove that he is by no means infallible. During the days before the Ascension, mankind suffered chaos and uncertainty caused by an endless cycle of kings, emperors, and other monarchs. One would think that now, with a single, immortal governor, society would finally have an opportunity to find stability and enlightenment. It is the remarkable lack of either attribute in the Final Empire that is the Lord Ruler’s most grievous oversight.

Vin stared at the page. Some of the words were beyond her skill, but she was able to grasp the author’s meaning. He was saying…

She snapped the book closed and hurriedly put it back in its place. What would happen if the obligators discovered that Elend owned such a text?

She glanced to the sides. They were there, of course, mingling with the

crowds like at the other ball, marked by their gray robes and tattooed faces. Many sat at tables with noblemen. Friends? Or spies for the Lord Ruler?

Nobody seemed quite as comfortable when an obligator was nearby.

What is Elend doing with a book like that? A powerful nobleman like himself? Why would he read texts that malign the Lord Ruler?

A hand fell on her shoulder, and Vin spun reflexively, pewter and copper flaring in her stomach.

“Whoa,” Elend said, stepping back and raising his hand. “Has anyone ever told you how jumpy you are, Valette?”

Vin relaxed, sitting back in her chair and extinguishing her metals. Elend sauntered over to his place and sat down. “Enjoying Heberen?”

Vin frowned, and Elend nodded to the larger, thick book that still sat before her.

“No,” Vin said. “It’s boring. I was just pretending to read so that the men would leave me alone for a bit.”

Elend chuckled. “Now, see, your cleverness is coming back to snap at you.”

Vin raised an eyebrow as Elend began to gather up his books, stacking them on the table. He didn’t appear to notice that she’d moved the

“weather” book, but he did carefully slide it into the middle of the stack. Vin turned her eyes from the book. I probably shouldn’t tell him about

Shan—not until I talk to Sazed. “I think my cleverness did its job well,” she said instead. “After all, I came to the ball to dance.”

“I find dancing overrated.”

“You can’t remain aloof from the court forever, Lord Venture—you’re the heir of a very important house.”

He sighed, stretching and leaning back in his chair. “I suppose you’re right,” he said with surprising frankness. “But the longer I hold out, the more annoyed my father will become. That, in itself, is a worthy goal.”

“He’s not the only one you hurt,” Vin said. “What of the girls that never get asked to dance because you’re too busy rummaging through your

books?”

“As I recall,” Elend said, setting the last book on the top of his pile, “someone was just pretending to read in order to avoid dancing. I don’t think the ladies have any trouble finding more amicable partners than myself.”

Vin raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t have trouble because I’m new and I’m low-ranked. I suspect that the ladies closer to your station have trouble finding partners, amicable or not. As I understand it, noblemen are

uncomfortable dancing with women above their station.” Elend paused, obviously searching for a comeback.

Vin leaned forward. “What is it, Elend Venture? Why are you so intent on avoiding your duty?”

“Duty?” Elend asked, leaning toward her, his posture earnest. “Valette, this isn’t duty. This ball…this is fluff and distraction. A waste of time.”

“And women?” Vin asked. “Are they a waste too?”

“Women?” Elend asked. “Women are like…thunderstorms. They’re beautiful to look at, and sometimes they’re nice to listen to—but most of the time they’re just plain inconvenient.”

Vin felt her jaw drop slightly. Then she noticed the twinkle in his eye, the smile at the edges of his lips, and she found herself smiling as well.

“You say these things just to provoke me!”

His smile deepened. “I’m charming that way.” He stood, looking at her fondly. “Ah, Valette. Don’t let them trick you into taking yourself too seriously. It’s not worth the effort. But, I must bid you a good evening. Try not to let months pass between balls you attend in the future.”

Vin smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do,” Elend said, bending down and scooting the tall stack of books off the table and into his arms. He teetered for a moment, then

steadied himself and peeked to the side. “Who knows—maybe one of these days you’ll actually get me to dance.”

Vin smiled, nodding as the nobleman turned and walked off, circling the perimeter of the ballroom’s second tier. He was soon met by two other young men. Vin watched curiously as one of the men clapped Elend on the shoulder in a friendly way, then took half of the books. The three began to walk together, chatting.

Vin didn’t recognize the newcomers. She sat thoughtfully as Sazed finally appeared out of a side hallway, and Vin eagerly waved him forward. He approached with a hurried step.

“Who are those men with Lord Venture?” Vin asked, pointing toward Elend.

Sazed squinted behind his spectacles. “Why…one of them is Lord

Jastes Lekal. The other is a Hasting, though I don’t know his given name.” “You sound surprised.”

“Houses Lekal and Hasting are both political rivals of House Venture, Mistress. Noblemen often visit with each other in smaller, after-ball parties, making alliances….” The Terrisman paused, turning back to her. “Master Kelsier will wish to hear of this, I think. It is time we retire.”

“I agree,” Vin said, rising. “And so do my feet. Let’s go.”

Sazed nodded, and the two of them made their way to the front doors. “What took you so long?” Vin asked as they waited for an attendant to fetch her shawl.

“I came back several times, Mistress,” Sazed said. “But you were

always dancing. I decided I would be of far more use speaking with the servants than I would be standing beside your table.”

Vin nodded, accepting her shawl, then walked out the front steps and down the carpeted stairs, Sazed just behind her. Her step was quick—she wanted to get back and tell Kelsier the names she’d memorized before she forgot the whole list. She paused at the landing, waiting for a servant to fetch her carriage. As she did, she noticed something odd. A small

disturbance was going on a short distance away in the mists. She stepped forward, but Sazed put a hand on her shoulder, holding her back. A lady wouldn’t wander off into the mists.

She reached to burn copper and tin, but waited—the disturbance was getting closer. It resolved as a guard appeared from the mists, pulling a small, struggling form: a skaa boy in dirty clothing, face soot-stained. The soldier gave Vin a wide berth, nodding apologetically to her as he approached one of the guard captains. Vin burned tin to hear what was said.

“Kitchen boy,” the soldier said quietly. “Tried to beg from one of the noblemen inside a carriage when they stopped for the gates to open.”

The captain simply nodded. The soldier pulled his captive back out into the mists, walking toward the far courtyard. The boy struggled, and the soldier grunted with annoyance, keeping a tight grip. Vin watched him go, Sazed’s hand on her shoulder, as if to hold her back. Of course she couldn’t help the boy. He shouldn’t have—

In the mists, beyond the eyesight of regular people, the soldier drew out a dagger and slit the boy’s throat. Vin jumped, shocked, as the sounds of the boy’s struggling tapered off. The guard dropped the body, then grabbed it by a leg and began to drag it away.

Vin stood, stunned, as her carriage pulled up.

“Mistress,” Sazed prompted, but she simply stood there.

They killed him, she thought. Right here, just a few paces away from

where noblemen wait for their carriages. As if…the death were nothing out of the ordinary. Just another skaa, slaughtered. Like an animal.

Or less than an animal. Nobody would slaughter pigs in a keep courtyard. The guard’s posture as he’d performed the murder indicated that he’d simply been too annoyed with the struggling boy to wait for a more

appropriate location. If any of the other nobility around Vin had noticed the event, they paid it no heed, continuing their chatting as they waited.

Actually, they seemed a little more chatty, now that the screams had stopped.

“Mistress,” Sazed said again, pushing her forward.

She allowed herself to be led into the carriage, her mind still distracted. It seemed such an impossible contrast to her. The pleasant nobility, dancing, just inside a room sparkling with light and dresses. Death in the courtyard. Didn’t they care? Didn’t they know?

This is the Final Empire, Vin, she told herself as the carriage rolled away. Don’t forget the ash because you see a little silk. If those people in

there knew you were skaa, they’d have you slaughtered just as easily as they did that poor boy.

It was a sobering thought—one that absorbed her during the entire trip back to Fellise.

‌Kwaan and I met by happenstance—though, I suppose, he would use the word “providence.”‌

I have met many other Terris philosophers since that day. They are,

every one, men of great wisdom and ponderous sagaciousness. Men with an almost palpable importance.

Not so Kwaan. In a way, he is as unlikely a prophet as I am a hero. He never had an air of ceremonious wisdom—nor was he even a religious

scholar. When we first met, he was studying one of his ridiculous interests in the great Khlenni library—I believe he was trying to determine whether or not trees could think.

That he should be the one who finally discovered the great Hero of

Terris prophecy is a matter that would cause me to laugh, had events turned out just a little differently.