Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

preparations to bolt the city.”
    “ What? ” Straff asked. “Where did you hear that?”
    “At the ball,” Elend said lightly.
    “I thought you said you didn’t learn anything important.”
    “Now, see, I never said anything of the sort. I just didn’t feel like sharing with you.”
    Lord Venture frowned. “I don’t know why I even care—anything you learn is bound to be worthless. I tried to train you in politics, boy. I really did. But now . . . well, I hope I live to see you dead, because this house is in for dire times if you ever take control.”
    “I know more than you think, Father.”
    Straff laughed, walking back to sit in his chair. “I doubt that, boy. Why, you can’t even bed a woman properly—the last, and only, time I know about you trying it, I had to take you to the brothel myself.”
    Elend flushed. Careful, he told himself. He’s bringing that up on purpose. He knows how much it bothers you.
    “Get to bed, boy,” Straff said with a wave of his hand. “You look terrible.”
    Elend stood for a moment, then finally ducked out into the hallway, sighing quietly to himself.
    That’s the difference between you and them, Elend, he thought. Those philosophers you read—they were revolutionaries. They were willing to risk execution. You can’t even stand up to your father.
    He walked tiredly up to his rooms—where, oddly, he found a servant waiting for him.
    Elend frowned. “Yes?”
    “Lord Elend, you have a guest,” the man said.
    “At this hour?”
    “It’s Lord Jastes Lekal, my lord.”
    Elend cocked his head slightly. What in the Lord Ruler’s name . . .? “He’s waiting in the sitting room, I assume?”
    “Yes, my lord,” the servant said.
    Elend turned regretfully away from his chambers, walking back down the hallway. He found Jastes waiting impatiently.
    “Jastes?” Elend said tiredly, walking into the sitting room. “I hope you have something very important to tell me.”
    Jastes shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, looking even more nervous than normal.
    “What?” Elend demanded, his patience waning.
    “It’s about the girl.”
    “Valette?” Elend asked. “You came here to discuss Valette? Now? ”
    “You should trust your friends more,” Jastes said.
    Elend snorted. “Trust your knowledge of women? No offense, Jastes, but I think not.”
    “I had her followed, Elend,” Jastes blurted out.
    Elend paused. “What?”
    “I had her carriage followed. Or, at least, I had someone watch for it at the city gates. She wasn’t in it when it left the city.”
    “What do you mean?” Elend asked, his frown deepening.
    “She wasn’t in the carriage, Elend,” Jastes repeated. “While her Terrisman was producing papers for the guards, my man snuck up and peeked through the carriage window, and there was nobody inside.
    “The carriage must have dropped her off somewhere in town. She’s a spy from one of the other houses—they’re trying to get at your father through you. They created the perfect woman to attract you—dark-haired, a bit mysterious, and outside of the regular political structure. They made her lowborn enough that it would be a scandal for you to be interested in her, then set her on you.”
    “Jastes, this is ridicu—”
    “Elend,” Jastes interrupted. “Tell me one more time: How did you meet her the first time?”
    Elend paused. “She was standing on the balcony.”
    “In your reading spot,” Jastes said. “Everyone knows that’s where you usually go. Coincidence?”
    Elend closed his eyes. Not Valette. She can’t be part of all this. But, immediately, another thought occurred to him. I told her about the atium! How could I be so stupid?
    It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t believe that he had been duped so easily. But . . . could he risk it? He was a bad son, true, but he was no traitor to the house. He didn’t want to see Venture fall; he wanted to lead it someday, so that perhaps he’d be able to change things.

    He bid Jastes farewell, then walked back to his rooms with a distracted step. He felt too tired to think about house politics. However, when he finally got into bed, he found that he couldn’t sleep.
    Eventually, he rose, sending for a servant.
    “Tell my father I want to make a trade,” Elend explained to the man. “I’ll go to his luncheon tomorrow, just as he wants.” Elend paused, standing in his evening robe by his bedroom door.
    “In exchange,” he finally said, “tell him I want to borrow a