The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn #6) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,65
make her withdraw.
Steris held out an arm to him. He took it, and together they crossed the room toward Lord Gave and the small crowd he had drawn. Wax had worried about how to break into the conversation, but as soon as he neared, the people talking to Gave stepped back and made room for him. His reputation and status preceded him, apparently.
“Why, Lord Waxillium!” Gave said with a knowing smile. “I was delighted when I heard that you were going to attend our little gathering! I’ve wanted to meet you for years.”
Wax nodded to him, then to his date and a couple he’d been chatting with. Those two didn’t retreat.
“How are you finding New Seran, my lord?” one of the ladies asked him.
“Seems mighty inconvenient to get around,” Wax said. “Nice otherwise, though.”
They laughed at that, as if he’d said something humorous. He frowned. What had he missed?
“I’m afraid,” Gave said, “you won’t find much to interest you here. New Seran is a quiet city.”
“Oh, but what are you saying, Lord Gave!” the other young man said. “Don’t misrepresent our town. The nightlife here is fantastic, Lord Waxillium! And the symphony has been given a citation of excellence by two of your previous governors.”
“Yes,” Gave said, “but there aren’t many shoot-outs.”
The others gave him blank stares.
“I was a lawman,” Wax told them, “in the Roughs.”
“A…” one of the ladies said. “You oversaw a city’s constable precinct?”
“No, he was a real lawman,” Gave said. “The ‘ride a horse and shoot bandits’ type. You should read the accounts—they’re all the rage in the Elendel broadsheets.”
The three others regarded him with bemused expressions. “How … unique,” one of the ladies finally said.
“The accounts are exaggerated,” Steris said quickly. “Lord Waxillium has only been directly responsible for the deaths of around a hundred people. Unless you include those who died of infection after he shot them—I’m still not sure how to count those.”
“It was a difficult life,” Wax said, looking toward Gave, who smiled behind his cup of wine, eyes twinkling. For a man like him, Wax and Steris were obviously good sport. “But that is behind me now. Lord Gave, I wanted to thank you for our years of mutually profitable trade.”
“Oh, don’t bring business into it, Lord Waxillium!” Gave said, with a tip of his wine. “This is a party.”
The others laughed. Again, Wax had no idea why.
Damn, he thought, looking between them. I am rusty. He’d complained, dragged his feet, but he hadn’t expected to be this clumsy.
Focus. Gave knew something about the Bands of Mourning, or at least ReLuur had thought he did.
“Do you have any hobbies, Lord Gave?” Wax asked, earning an eager nod from Steris at the comment.
“Nothing of real note,” Gave said.
“He loves archaeology!” his date said at the same time though. He gave her a dry look.
“Archaeology!” Wax said. “That’s hardly unnotable, Lord Gave.”
“He loves relics!” the lady said. “Spends hours at the auction house, snatching up anything he—”
“I like history,” Gave interjected. “Artwork from times past inspires me. But you, dear, are making me sound too much like one of those gentlemen adventurers.” He sneered at the term. “I’m sure you saw the type up in the Roughs, Lord Waxillium. Men who’d spent their lives in society, but suddenly decided to go off seeking some kind of thrill or another where they don’t belong.”
Steris stiffened. Wax met the man’s gaze levelly. The insult, veiled though it was, was similar to those he’d suffered in Elendel society.
“Better they try something new,” Wax said, “as opposed to wasting their lives in the same old activities.”
“My Lord Waxillium!” Gave said. “Disappointing one’s family is hardly original! People have been doing it since the days of the Last Emperor.”
Wax made a fist at his side. He was accustomed to insults, but this one still got under his skin. Perhaps it was because he was on edge, or perhaps it was because of his worry about his sister.
He pushed down his anger, Steris squeezing his arm, and tried another tactic. “Is your cousin well?”
“Valette? Most certainly. We are all pleased with her new marriage. I’m sorry your relationship didn’t work out, but the man who courted her after you was dreadful. When titles are part of a union, it’s always unpleasant to see what crawls out from the mists looking for a bone.”
He didn’t look at Steris as he said it. He didn’t need to. That sly smile, so self-satisfied as he sipped his wine.