Zane’s words came back to her, seeming to whisper in her mind. You aren’t like him. She pushed the thought out.
“With respect, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said, “this has to be one of the most foolish things I’ve ever seen a leader do.”
“It was for the good of the kingdom,” Elend said.
“It was sheer idiocy,” Tindwyl snapped. “A king doesn’t subject himself to the whims of another ruling body. He is valuable to his people because he is an absolute authority!”
Vin had rarely seen Elend so sorrowful, and she cringed a bit at the sadness in his eyes. However, a different piece of her was rebelliously happy. He wasn’t king anymore. Now maybe people wouldn’t work so hard to kill him. Maybe he could just be Elend again, and they could leave. Go somewhere. A place where things weren’t so complicated.
“Regardless,” Dockson said to the quiet room, “something must be done. Discussing the prudence of decisions already past has little current relevance.”
“Agreed,” Ham said. “So, the Assembly tried to kick you out. What are we going to do about it?”
“We obviously can’t let them have their way,” Breeze said. “Why, the people overthrew a government just last year! This is a bad habit to be getting into, I should think.”
“We need to prepare a response, Your Majesty,” Dockson said. “Something decrying this deceitful maneuver, performed while you were negotiating for the very safety of the city. Now that I look back, it’s obvious that they arranged this meeting so that you couldn’t be present and defend yourself.”
Elend nodded, still staring up at the dark glass. “There’s probably no need to call me Your Majesty anymore, Dox.”
“Nonsense,” Tindwyl said, arms folded as she stood beside a bookcase. “You are still king.”
“I’ve lost the mandate of the people,” Elend said.
“Yes,” Clubs said, “but you’ve still got the mandate of my armies. That makes you king no matter what the Assembly says.”
“Exactly,” Tindwyl said. “Foolish laws aside, you’re still in a position of power. We need to tighten martial law, restrict movement within the city. Seize control of key points, and sequester the members of the Assembly so that your enemies can’t raise a resistance against you.”
“I’ll have my men on the streets before light,” Clubs said.
“No,” Elend said quietly.
There was a pause.
“Your Majesty?” Dockson asked. “It really is the best move. We can’t let this faction against you gain momentum.”
“It’s not a faction, Dox,” Elend said. “It’s the elected representatives of the Assembly.”
“An Assembly you formed, my dear man,” Breeze said. “They have power because you gave it to them.”
“The law gives them their power, Breeze,” Elend said. “And we are all subject to it.”
“Nonsense,” Tindwyl said. “As king, you are the law. Once we secure the city, you can call in the Assembly and explain to its members that you need their support. Those who disagree can be held until the crisis is over.”
“No,” Elend said, a little more firm. “We will do none of that.”
“That’s it, then?” Ham asked. “You’re giving up?”
“I’m not giving up, Ham,” Elend said, finally turning to regard the group. “But I’m not going to use the city’s armies to pressure the Assembly.”
“You’ll lose your throne,” Breeze said.
“See reason, Elend,” Ham said with a nod.
“I will not be an exception to my own laws!” Elend said.
“Don’t be a fool,” Tindwyl said. “You should—”
“Tindwyl,” Elend said, “respond to my ideas as you wish, but do not call me a fool again. I will not be belittled because I express my opinion!”
Tindwyl paused, mouth partially open. Then she pressed her lips together and took her seat. Vin felt a quiet surge of satisfaction. You trained him, Tindwyl, she thought with a smile. Can you really complain if he stands up to you?
Elend walked forward, placing his hands on the table as he regarded the group. “Yes, we will respond. Dox, you write a letter informing the Assembly of our disappointment and feelings of betrayal—inform them of our success with Straff, and lay on the guilt as thickly as possible.
“The rest of us will begin planning. We’ll get the throne back. As has been stated, I know the law. I wrote it. There are ways to deal with this. Those ways do not, however, include sending our armies to secure the city. I will not be like the tyrants who would take Luthadel from us! I will not force the people to do my will, even if I know it is best for them.”
“Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said carefully, “there is nothing immoral about securing your power during a time of chaos. People react irrationally during such times. That is one of the reasons why they need strong leadership. They need you.”
“Only if they want me, Tindwyl,” Elend said.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said, “but that statement seems somewhat naive to me.”
Elend smiled. “Perhaps it is. You can change my clothing and my bearing, but you can’t change the soul of who I am. I’ll do what I think is right—and that includes letting the Assembly depose me, if that is their choice.”
Tindwyl frowned. “And if you can’t get your throne back through lawful means?”
“Then I accept that fact,” Elend said. “And do my best to help the kingdom anyway.”
So much for running away, Vin thought. However, she couldn’t help smiling. Part of what she loved about Elend was his sincerity. His simple love for the people of Luthadel—his determination to do what was right for them—was what separated him from Kelsier. Even in martyrdom, Kelsier had displayed a hint of arrogance. He’d made certain that he would be remembered like few men who had ever lived.
But Elend—to him, ruling the Central Dominance wasn’t about fame or glory. For the first time, completely and honestly, she decided something. Elend was a far better king than Kelsier would ever have been.
“I’m … not certain what I think of this experience, Mistress,” a voice whispered beside her. Vin paused, looking down as she realized that she had begun idly scratching OreSeur’s ears.
She pulled her hand back with a start. “Sorry,” she said.
OreSeur shrugged, resting his head back on his paws.
“So, you said there’s a legal way to get the throne back,” Ham said. “How do we go about it?”
“The Assembly has one month to choose a new king,” Elend said. “Nothing in the law says that the new king can’t be the same as the old one. And, if they can’t come up with a majority decision by that deadline, the throne reverts to me for a minimum of one year.”
“Complicated,” Ham said, rubbing his chin.
“What did you expect?” Breeze said. “It’s the law.”
“I didn’t mean the law itself,” Ham said. “I meant getting the Assembly to either choose Elend or not choose anyone. They wouldn’t have deposed him in the first place unless they had another person in mind for the throne.”