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having lost our bearings, that made my cousins act so fast and snatch their hands away so quickly, as if the soft smoothness between our legs might burn them.
    â€œLet’s try it on,” Manuel said, his back to me now as he unbuttoned the dress from its hanger, which was hooked over the armoire. “It’s going to fit perfectly. Let me help you.”
    Manuel carried on with the determination of a robot programmed to perform a task. Possessed and obsessed, he seemed already to havebeen transported to another reality. Maybe that was why I was finally able to submit to the game without too much bother. I felt like I was with a scientist attempting to enter a parallel time; like a character out of some fantastic, far-fetched tale.
    â€œYou can leave your underwear on, but take off everything else. I’ll slip the dress over your head. There’s no zipper, logically.”
    Facing me, standing at the foot of the bed, he stared at me without malice. I was looking at him too, my back turned to the mirror where just a minute ago I’d seen my face, my cheeks blushing slightly. I was planning to tell him to look away while I got undressed, but instead I started to unbutton my top. I unzipped the suit pants I was wearing. The silk lining slipped down my legs, rustling softly. I pulled down my stockings and slipped them off. I could feel my heart pounding in my belly. I proceeded to stand up and take off my white blouse. When I took off my bra, he was still staring at me with that guileless expression.
    â€œReady.” I smiled, cupping my hands over my breasts. “Hurry up so I don’t catch a cold. It’s freezing in here.”
    It took a second for him to react. He took down the dress as if he’d had to complete a thought before he could do anything else.
    He walked over to me.
    â€œRaise your arms,” he said.
    I stuck my head through the neck hole. Manuel was standing very close to me. His cold hands brushed against me. For a few seconds all you could hear was the sound of the material slipping over my body. I felt myself starting to get wet between the legs. It was such a luxurious feeling, to abandon myself to this game, and each touch of the dress against my skin was like a pebble falling into a pond, sparking off countless shudders. I thought it was funny, the way my childhood fantasies were coming to life. I hadn’t felt vulnerable when I was nude. It seemed more like my skin was a magnetic field, charged with fluid energy. Even though it was a new feeling, my instincts recognized it.
    Manuel leaned over me and said that now he’d have to button up the corset. I thought he would be clumsy, but I made no effort to help him. “Let’s see,” he said, “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” His long, slender fingers turned out to be very nimble, ablyslipping each button into the piping buttonholes. The dress had wide sleeves, and the narrow bodice fit me perfectly. He stood back to look me over, head to toe.
    â€œI won’t go overboard and try to make you wear the steeple headdress. But we’ll have to put your hair up. Do you happen to have a barrette in your purse?”
    I said I did and he ran to get it. I heard him bound up the steps two by two. I looked at myself in the mirror.
    I had become a character from another time. A Spanish princess from the days of the reconquest of Granada, the discovery of America. As girls we always played make-believe and pretended to be princesses. This is a game, I told myself. It’s just that this one is about one princess in particular. I pulled my hair into two sections and held it back behind me to see the effect. Better. Long hair hanging down over my shoulders lowered my status. I looked more like a lover than Philippe the Handsome’s wife. He came back with my purse, and I pulled out a brush and barrette.
    â€œLet me do it,” he said quickly. “Tell me if I hurt