Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

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.’