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kindness or skills? But no. He was too beautiful. Erich ate what he was served, and his meals had only ever been sweet. He did not know the bitter flavors.
    At least candles forgave more than magelight or gaslight. He’d already removed his own mask. I’d hoped it had covered a scar or a blemish, a pimple, anything, but of course it did not. Without the mask, the perfect symmetry of his face stood out even more.
    My hands shook so badly I could not lift them. I feared close scrutiny. Papa had once given me a lens for looking at my maps up close; I’d spent hours looking at them with it, but my sister Stesi had often used that same lens with excruciating patience to fry the butterflies she liked to catch.
    No matter how much I’d screamed at her to stop, she’d only laughed, leaving the dead butterflies on my maps with horrible little wisps of steam wafting away on the breeze.
    “Are you afraid?” Erich’s voice brought me back to reality. I felt like a butterfly burning beneath that lens.
    My hands fluttered; still, they would not rise. My corset squeezed. I sipped air desperately, but a spasm erupted beneath my ribcage. I made a helpless, hiccupping sound.
    “Breathe,” Erich advised in a voice that brooked no argument.
    I opened my mouth and gulped air, as if his speaking had given me permission to inhale.
    “Turn around,” he said. I obeyed. His gloved touch on my back sent spikes of sensation roaring across my skin.
    “What are you doing?” I cried.
    “Unlacing you.”
    Dear gods! I couldn’t breathe again. “Why?”
    “So you don’t faint.”
    My lack of air grew worse, until suddenly, I managed a full and unrestricted breath. Erich had loosened my corset.
    Erich shook himself free from my clothing. “You laced your stays too tight,” he reproved, as if I didn’t know.
    “I wanted you to think I had a nice body.” There my mouth went again, saying words I didn’t want him to know.
    He cast me a sharp glance. “You wanted me to desire you?”
    I clamped my tongue between my teeth so I could not say any other stupid, vulnerable thing.
    Erich shrugged and grabbed the edge of my mask. “Do you prefer your bandages peeled off slowly or quickly?”
    My breath clamped again. “Quickly, please,” I managed.
    In one rapid sweep, he tore my mask away. I closed my eyes.
    My heart plummeted into the soles of my feet. Not for any price could I open my eyes. I did not want to see his face when he saw me. I did not want to witness his disappointment.
    My hands inadvertently clutched my skirts. I swayed where I stood, my eyes closed. My head leaned to the right in instinctive habit to turn the better side of my face forward. I bit my lower lip—all my nervous ticks unleashed at once.
    “Sterling.” I could tell nothing from his voice. “Sterling. I’m going to blow out the candle. You can open your eyes.”
    Did I trust him to do as he said? I heard the whoosh of his breath.
    I opened my eyes.
    I couldn’t even see the outline of his body in the complete darkness. My knees gave, and I crumpled to the ground. He must have heard me go down. I felt him crouch beside me.
    “What do you fear?” he asked.
    I had never been like Stesi, good at flirtation and courtship games. I simply hadn’t had the practice. I did not know what else to do but answer honestly. “I’m afraid you won’t take me. I’m afraid you’ll reject me and I’ll fail my father.”
    “Amatos,” he hissed. “Shut up, would you? Consider this: You may be ugly on the outside, but I’m ugly on the inside. Are you so certain you want to marry me?”
    “I don’t understand. Do you mean the rumors? About your—unusual tastes? But we must marry! For Lethemia. For Papa’s peace. You can live as you please. I won’t ask you to give up your pleasures.”
    “Indeed? Then we might get on quite well together, Sterling.”
    Well—not exactly a resounding declaration of his love and respect, but I’d take it.
    I exhaled. He would marry