Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)(78)
“Perhaps. It depends on whether Camon knew or not. He could have assumed you were just a Misting.”
She stood quietly for a moment. “What does this mean for my part in the job, then?”
“We’ll continue as planned,” Kelsier said. “Only a couple of obligators saw you at the Canton building, and it takes a very rare man to connect the skaa servant and the well-dressed noblewoman as the same person.”
“And the Inquisitor?” Vin asked softly.
Kelsier didn’t have an answer to that one. “Come on,” he ?nally said. “We’ve already attracted too much attention.”
What would it be like if every nation—from the isles in the South to the Terris hills in the North—were united under a single government? What wonders could be achieved, what progress could be made, if mankind were to permanently set aside its squabblings and join together?
It is too much, I suppose, to even hope for. A single, uni?ed empire of man? It could never happen.
12
VIN RESISTED THE URGE TO pick at her noblewoman’s dress. Even after a half week of being forced to wear one— Sazed’s suggestion—she found the bulky garment uncomfortable. It pulled tightly at her waist and chest, then fell to the ?oor with several layers of ruf?ed fabric, making it dif?cult to walk. She kept feeling as if she were going to trip— and, despite the gown’s bulk, she felt as if she were somehow exposed by how tight it was through the chest, not to mention the neckline’s low curve. Though she had exposed nearly as much skin when wearing normal, buttoning shirts, this seemed different somehow.
Still, she had to admit that the gown made quite a difference. The girl who stood in the mirror before her was a strange, foreign creature. The light blue dress, with its white ruf?es and lace, matched the sapphire barrettes in her hair. Sazed claimed he wouldn’t be happy until her hair was at least shoulder-length, but he had still suggested that she purchase the broochlike barrettes and put them just above each ear.
“Often, aristocrats don’t hide their de?ciencies,” he had explained. “Instead, they highlight them. Draw attention to your short hair, and instead of thinking you’re unfashionable, they might be impressed by the statement you are making.”
She also wore a sapphire necklace—modest by noble standards, but still worth more than two hundred boxings. It was complemented by a single ruby bracelet for accentuation. Apparently, the current fashion dictated a single splash of a different color to provide contrast.
And it was all hers, paid for by crew funds. If she ran, taking the jewelry and her three thousand boxings, she could live for decades. It was more tempting than she wanted to admit. Images of Camon’s men, their corpses twisted and dead in the quiet lair, kept returning to her. That was probably what waited for her if she remained.
Why, then, didn’t she go?
She turned from the mirror, putting on a light blue silken shawl, the female aristocrat’s version of a cloak. Why didn’t she leave? Perhaps it was her promise to Kelsier. He had given her the gift of Allomancy, and he depended on her. Perhaps it was her duty to the others. In order to survive, crews needed each person to do their separate job.
Reen’s training told her that these men were fools, but she was tempted, enticed, by the possibility that Kelsier and the others offered. In the end, it wasn’t the wealth or the job’s thrill that made her stay. It was the shadowed prospect— unlikely and unreasonable, but still seductive—of a group whose members actually trusted one another. She had to stay. She had to know if it lasted, or if it was—as Reen’s growing whispers promised—all a lie.
She turned and left her room, walking toward the front of Mansion Renoux, where Sazed waited with a carriage. She had decided to stay, and that meant she had to do her part.
It was time to make her ?rst appearance as a noblewoman.
The carriage shook suddenly, and Vin jumped in surprise. The vehicle continued normally, however, and Sazed didn’t move from his place in the driver’s seat.
A sound came from above. Vin ?ared her metals, tensing, as a ?gure dropped down off the top of the carriage and landed on the footman’s rest just outside her door. Kelsier smiled as he peeked his head in the window.
Vin let out a relieved breath, settling back into her seat. “You could have just asked us to pick you up.”
“No need,” Kelsier said, pulling open the carriage door and swinging inside. It was already dark outside, and he wore his mistcloak. “I warned Sazed I’d be dropping by sometime during the trip.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Kelsier winked, pulling the door shut. “I ?gured I still owed you for surprising me in that alleyway last week.”
“How very adult of you,” Vin said ?atly.
“I’ve always been very con?dent in my immaturity. So, are you ready for this evening?”
Vin shrugged, trying to hide her nervousness. She glanced down. “How. . uh, do I look?”
“Splendid,” Kelsier said. “Just like a noble young lady. Don’t be nervous, Vin—the disguise is perfect.”
For some reason, that didn’t feel like the answer she’d wanted to hear. “Kelsier?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while,” she said, glancing out the window, though all she could see is mist. “I understand that you think this is important—having a spy among the nobility. But…well, do we really have to do it this way?