Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

”
    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 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