She stood angrily, Sazed backing away, the cloak falling the floor. “He’s a good man!”
“He’s a nobleman!”
“So are you!” Vin snapped. She waved a frustrated arm toward the kitchen and the crew. “What do you think this is, Kelsier? The life of a skaa? What do any of you know about skaa? Aristocratic suits, stalking your enemies in the night, full meals and nightcaps around the table with your friends? That’s not the life of a skaa!”
She took a step forward, glaring at Kelsier. He blinked in surprise at the outburst.
“What do you know about them, Kelsier?” she asked. “When’s the last time you slept in an alley, shivering in the cold rain, listening to the beggar next to you cough with a sickness you knew would kill him? When’s the last time you had to lay awake at night, terrified that one of the men in your crew would try to rape you? Have you ever knelt, starving, wishing you had the courage to knife the crewmember beside you just so you could take his crust of bread? Have you ever cowered before your brother as he beat you, all the time feeling thankful because at least you had someone who paid attention to you?”
She fell silent, puffing slightly, the crewmembers staring at her.
“Don’t talk to me about noblemen,” Vin said. “And don’t say things about people you don’t know. You’re no skaa—you’re just noblemen without titles.”
She turned, stalking from the room. Kelsier watched her go, shocked, hearing her footsteps on the stairs. He stood, dumbfounded, feeling a surprising flush of ashamed guilt.
And, for once, found himself without anything to say.
Vin didn’t go to her room. She climbed to the roof, where the mists curled in the quiet, unlit night. She sat down in the corner, the rough stone lip of the flat rooftop against her nearly bare back, wood beneath her.
She was cold, but she didn’t care. Her arm hurt a bit, but it was mostly numb. She didn’t feel nearly numb enough herself.
She crossed her arms, huddling down, watching the mists. She didn’t know what to think, let alone what to feel. She shouldn’t have exploded at Kelsier, but everything that had happened . . . the fight, Elend’s betrayal . . . it just left her feeling frustrated. She needed to be angry at someone.
You should just be angry at yourself, Reen’s voice whispered. You’re the one who let them get close. Now they’re all just going to leave you.
She couldn’t make it stop hurting. She could only sit and shiver as the tears fell, wondering how everything had collapsed so quickly.
The trapdoor to the rooftop opened with a quiet creak, and Kelsier’s head appeared.
Oh, Lord Ruler! I don’t want to face him now. She tried to wipe away her tears, but she only succeeded in aggravating the freshly stitched wound on her cheek.
Kelsier closed the trapdoor behind him, then stood, so tall and proud, staring up at the mists. He didn’t deserve the things I said. None of them did.
“Watching the mists is comforting, isn’t it?” Kelsier asked.
Vin nodded.
“What is it I once told you? The mists protect you, they give you power . . . they hide you. . . .”
He looked down, then he walked over and crouched before her, holding out a cloak. “There are some things you can’t hide from, Vin. I know—I’ve tried.”
She accepted the cloak, then wrapped it around her shoulders.
“What happened tonight?” he asked. “What really happened?”
“Elend told me that he didn’t want to be with me anymore.”
“Ah,” Kelsier said, moving over to sit beside her. “Was this before or after you killed his former fiancée?”
“Before,” Vin said.
“And you still protected him?”
Vin nodded, sniffling quietly. “I know. I’m an idiot.”
“No more than the rest of us,” Kelsier said with a sigh. He looked up into the mists. “I loved Mare too, even after she betrayed me. Nothing could change how I felt.”
“And that’s why it hurts so much,” Vin said, remembering what Kelsier had said before. I think I finally understand.
“You don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you,” he said. “It would certainly make things easier if you did.”
She started to sniffle again, and he put a fatherly arm around her. She pulled close, trying to use his warmth to push away the pain.
“I loved him, Kelsier,” she whispered.
“Elend? I know.”
“No, not Elend,” Vin said. “Reen. He beat me over, and over, and over. He swore at me, he yelled at me, he told me he’d betray me. Every day, I thought about how much I hated him.
“And I loved him. I still do. It hurts so much to think that he’s gone, even though he always told me he would leave.”
“Oh, child,” Kelsier said, pulling her close. “I’m sorry.”
“Everyone leaves me,” she whispered. “I can barely remember my mother. She tried to kill me, you know. She heard voices, in her head, and they made her kill my baby sister. She was probably going to kill me next, but Reen stopped her.
“Either way, she left me. After that, I clung to Reen. He left too. I love Elend, but he doesn’t want me anymore.” She looked up at Kelsier. “When are you going to go? When will you leave me?”
Kelsier looked sorrowful. “I . . . Vin, I don’t know. This job, the plan . . .”
She searched his eyes, looking for the secrets therein. What are you hiding from me, Kelsier? Something that dangerous? She wiped her eyes again, pulling away from him, feeling foolish.
He looked down, shaking his head. “Look, now you got blood all over my nice, dirty, pretend informant’s clothing.”
Vin smiled. “At least some of it is noble blood. I got Shan pretty good.”
Kelsier chuckled. “You’re probably right about me, you know. I don’t give the nobility much of a chance, do I?”
Vin flushed. “Kelsier, I shouldn’t have said those things. You’re good people, and this plan of yours . . . well, I realize what you’re trying to do for the skaa.”
“No, Vin,” Kelsier said, shaking his head. “What you said was true. We’re not really skaa.”
“But, that’s good,” Vin said. “If you were regular skaa, you wouldn’t have the experience or courage to plan something like this.”
“They might lack experience,” Kelsier said. “But not courage. Our army lost, true, but they were willing—with minimal training—to charge a superior force. No, the skaa don’t lack courage. Just opportunity.”
“Then it’s your position as half skaa, half nobleman that has given you opportunity, Kelsier. And you’ve chosen to use that opportunity to help your skaa half. That makes you worthy of being a skaa if anything does.”
Kelsier smiled. “Worthy to be a skaa. I like the sound of that. Regardless, perhaps I need to spend a little less time worrying about which noblemen to kill, and a little more time worrying about which peasants to help.”
Vin nodded, pulling the cloak close as she stared up into the mists. They protect us. . . . give us power . . . hide us. . . .