Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

clear space and set Elend a place directly across the high table from him.
    Elend sat, trusting in Vin—mixed with his own burning steel and tin—to warn him of attacks from behind. He was the only one on this side of the table, and Yomen's dining companions all retired as Elend seated himself, leaving the two rulers alone. In another situation, the image might have looked ridiculous: two men seated across from each other with empty table wings extending a great distance to either side. The white tablecloth and crystalline dinnerware were pristine, just as it would have been during the Lord Ruler's day.
    Elend had sold all such finery he owned, struggling to feed his people during the last few winters.
    Yomen laced his fingers on the table in front of him—his meal taken away by silent servants—and studied Elend, his cautious eyes framed by intricate tattoos. Yomen wore no crown, but he did wear a single bead of metal tied so that it hung in the center of his forehead.
    Atium.
    "There is a saying in the Steel Ministry," Yomen finally said. " 'Sit down to dine with evil, and you will ingest it with your meal.' "
    "It's a good thing we're not eating, then," Elend said, smiling slightly.
    Yomen did not smile back.
    "Yomen," Elend said, growing more serious. "I come to you now, not as an emperor seeking for new lands to control, but as a desperate king seeking allies. The world has become a dangerous place—the land itself seems to be fighting us, or at least falling apart beneath us. Accept my hand of friendship, and let us be done with wars."
    Yomen didn't reply. He just sat, fingers laced, studying Elend.
    "You doubt my sincerity," Elend said. "I can't say that I blame you, since I marched my army up to your doorstep. Is there a way that I can persuade you? Would you be willing to enter into talks or parley?"
    Again, no answer. So, this time, Elend just waited. The room around them felt still.
    Yomen finally spoke. "You are a flagrant and garish man, Elend Venture."
    Elend bristled at that. Perhaps it was the ball setting, perhaps it was the way Yomen so flippantly ignored his offer. However, Elend found himself responding to the comment in a way he might have years before, when he hadn't been a king at war. "It's a bad habit I've always had," Elend said. "I'm afraid that the years of rule—and of being trained in propriety—haven't changed one fact: I'm a terribly rude man. Bad breeding would be my guess."
    "You find this a game," the obligator said, eyes hard. "You come to my city to slaughter my people, then you dance into my ball hoping to frighten the nobility to the point of hysteria."
    "No," Elend said. "No, Yomen, this is no game. The world seems near to ending, and I'm just doing my best to help as many people survive as possible."
    "And doing your best includes conquering my city?"
    Elend shook his head. "I'm not good at lying, Yomen. So, I'll be truthful with you. I don't want to kill anyone—as I said, I'd rather we simply made a truce and were done with it. Give me the information I seek, pool your resources with mine, and I will not force you to give up your city. Deny me, and things will grow more difficult."
    Yomen sat quietly for a moment, music still being played softly in the background, vibrating over the hum of a hundred polite conversations.
    "Do you know why I dislike men like you, Venture?" Yomen finally asked.
    "My insufferable charm and wit?" Elend asked. "I doubt it's my good looks—but, compared to that of an obligator, I suppose even my face could be enviable."
    Yomen's expression darkened. "How did a man like you ever end up at a table of negotiation?"
    "I was trained by a surly Mistborn, a sarcastic Terrisman, and a group of disrespectful thieves," Elend said, sighing. "Plus, on top of that, I was a fairly insufferable person to begin with. But, kindly continue with your insult—I didn't mean to interrupt."
    "I don't like you," Yomen continued, "because you have the gall to believe that you deserve to take this city."
    "I do," Elend said. "It belonged to Cett; half the soldiers I brought with me on this march once served him, and this is their homeland. We've come to liberate, not conquer."
    "Do these people look to you like they need liberation?" Yomen said, nodding to the dancing couples.
    "Yes, actually," Elend said. "Yomen, you're the upstart here—not me. You have no right to this city, and you know it."
    "I have the right given me by the Lord Ruler."
    "We don't accept