Mistborn #01 The Final Empire

sat between the rightmost column and the wall, well lit by a single lantern. He almost always spent Venture balls reading there; he didn’t like the pomp and ceremony that came from hosting a party.
    The cubbyhole was empty. She approached the railing, then craned out to look toward the far end of the grand hallway. The host’s table sat on an overhang at the same level as the balconies, and she was shocked to see Elend sitting there dining with his father.
    What? she thought incredulously. Never once, during the half-dozen balls she’d attended at Keep Venture, had she seen Elend sit with his family.
    Down below, she caught sight of a familiar, colorful-robed figure moving through the crowd. She waved toward Sazed, but he had obviously already seen her. As she waited for him, Vin thought she faintly heard a familiar voice coming from the other end of the balcony. She turned and checked, noticing a short figure she’d missed before. Kliss was speaking with a small group of minor lords.
    So that’s where Kliss went, Vin thought. Maybe she’ll talk to me. Vin stood, waiting for either Kliss to finish her conversation or Sazed to arrive.
    Sazed came first, leaving the stairwell, breathing heavily. “Mistress,” he said in a low voice, joining her by the railing.
    “Tell me you discovered something, Sazed. This ball feels . . . creepy. Everyone’s so solemn and cold. It’s almost like we’re at a funeral, not a party.”
    “It is an apt metaphor, my lady,” Sazed said quietly. “We have missed an important announcement. House Hasting said it is not going to hold its regular ball this week.”
    Vin frowned. “So? Houses have canceled balls before.”
    “House Elariel canceled as well. Normally, Tekiel would come next—but that house is defunct. House Shunah has already announced that it won’t be holding any more balls.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “It appears, Mistress, that this will be the last ball for a time . . . perhaps a very long time.”
    Vin glanced down at the hall’s magnificent windows, which stood above the independent—almost hostile—groups of people.
    “ That’s what’s going on,” she said. “They’re finalizing alliances. Everyone is standing with their strongest friends and supporters. They know this is the last ball, and so they all came to put in an appearance, but they know they’ve no time left for politicking.”
    “It seems that way, Mistress.”
    “They’re all going on the defensive,” Vin said. “Retreating behind their walls, so to speak. That’s why no one wants to talk to me—we made Renoux too neutral a force. I don’t have a faction, and it’s a bad time to be gambling on random political elements.”
    “Master Kelsier needs to know this information, Mistress,” Sazed said. “He planned on pretending to be an informant again tonight. If he’s ignorant of this situation, it could seriously damage his credibility. We should leave.”
    “No,” Vin said, turning toward Sazed. “I can’t go—not when everyone else is staying. They all thought it was important to come and be seen at this last ball, and so I shouldn’t leave until they start to.”
    Sazed nodded. “Very well.”
    “You go, Sazed. Hire a carriage and go tell Kell what we’ve learned. I’ll stay for a little longer, then leave when it won’t make House Renoux look weak.”
    Sazed paused. “I . . . don’t know, Mistress.”
    Vin rolled her eyes. “I appreciate the help you’ve given me, but you don’t need to keep holding my hand. Plenty of people come to these balls without their stewards to watch after them.”
    Sazed sighed. “Very well, Mistress. I shall return, however, after I have located Master Kelsier.”
    Vin nodded, bidding him farewell, and he retreated down the stone stairwell. Vin leaned against the balcony in Elend’s spot, watching until Sazed appeared below and disappeared toward the front gates.
    Now what? Even if I can find someone to talk to, there’s really no point in spreading rumors now.
    She felt a feeling of dread. Who would have thought that she would come to enjoy noble frivolity so much? The experience was tainted by her knowledge of what many noblemen were capable of, but even still, there had been a . . . dreamlike joy to the entire experience.
    Would she ever attend balls like these again? What would happen to Valette the noblewoman? Would she have to put away her dresses and makeup, and return to simply being Vin the street thief?