Sterling (9 page)

A
lira sat
at the vanity table in her undergarments while she applied her cosmetic, working on her face as though upon a painting.

She blended the face cream perfectly to make her skin all one color. “You get it so smooth!” I exclaimed.

She laughed. “I can see you haven’t a notion how to do it.” She flicked my cheek. “I’ll help you. Wash your face off.”

I shook my head. “No, ma’am. I couldn’t.”

“I guess I can work over what you have on already. Pour me some wine.” She didn’t understand that I meant it wouldn’t be proper for a mistress to work upon her maid.

I poured.

“Sit,” she said. I plopped into the uncomfortable vanity chair and sat straight-backed, like a lady.

Alira rummaged through her bottles and selected several. She worked intently on my face, caressing my skin with her brush, offering commands: “Close your eyes. Lift your chin. Purse your mouth.

“Ah!” she said, stepping back. “Have a look. You are a new woman!”

I had expected to see smooth skin in the mirror, but I had not imagined that she could have transformed my face so completely. The freckles on my nose were gone. My shaded eyes were enormous, my lashes so long they interfered with my sight. She’d given me cheekbones the court ladies of Galantia would have killed for—sculptured via shadow-painting applied like a master.

“Do you like it?” Alira smiled into the mirror.

“I barely recognize myself!”

“That’s the point. When you go out, you put a new face forward. It makes you brave.”

This made perfect sense to me. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Alira said. “It was only necessary. You have to match the rest of your costume.”

“What?”

“Come on, we have to hurry,” she said. “The show begins in one hour.”

Alira pulled a gown from her trunk. “Try this one.”

“I cannot go out with you tonight. I have so much to do. Scelpts will scold me.” Or fire me.

“What is Scelpts?” she asked, still rummaging in her trunk.

“The housekeeper. I have to clean the master’s rooms tonight.”

She froze. “Why? Is he coming? You didn’t say!” She dropped the clothes, her distress real and immediate.

“No, he’s not coming, or at least, we’ve had no word. But we must always keep his rooms in readiness. That is the standing order.”

Alira sank to a seat on the bed. “Oh, thank the gods! You almost gave me a fit.”

“Why?” The master seemed generous. She had plenty of money, fine clothes, and apparent freedom.

Alira grabbed the wine bottle, took a swig, and gestured at the pile of clothing. “That’s for you. Mine’s here on the bed. You first.”

“I have to—”

“You can do your chores tomorrow! I won’t need you at all tomorrow.”

“I don’t think—”

“Who is the mistress here?” she snapped. “You or me?”

“You, of course,” I mumbled, looking down.

“Well, then. You know what to do.”

I picked up the chemise from the pile.

“Get dressed,” Alira demanded. I had already removed my cap for the making of my face, so all I had to do was scramble out of my dress and into the chemise. Alira pulled the laces on the waist cincher for me. She had even brought out thigh-high silk stockings and garters.

She giggled. “Look at us,” she turned me towards the mirror in the underthings. “We are someone’s fantasy.”

I stared in the mirror, my doubts and fears writ too clearly on my unfamiliarly pretty face. “I really shouldn’t—”

“Not another word out of you!” Alira cried. “I must have a companion to go out; you’re acting as my handmaiden. Now, hurry, dresses. We don’t want to be late.”

I slipped the gown she had selected for me over my head. It was far nicer than any I’d ever had for everyday, the kind of dress my sister would have worn to a fancy ball, with a close-cut bodice, a skirt that touched the ground, and beaded embellishments across the (rather too low) neckline. My mother had always dressed me in unpopular hues and unfashionable styles to reserve the best for Stesi.

I tied Alira’s gown with trembling hands. Dressing up with her made me feel terribly anxious and exposed. What if I lost my position? Worse, what if out in Avani someone recognized me?

“Now,” Alira said. “Hair.” She found a feather fascinator that matched my dress and pinned it over one ear, although the tight, severe bun I wore as part of my maid’s disguise did not suit the look. Alira added an elaborate fascinator to her own coiffure. “Cloaks, and we are ready, in plenty of time.”

Cortis pulled the carriage in front of the house. “Sera?” he whispered as he handed me up after Alira. “I would not have recognized you did I not know!”

I giggled, more out of nerves than happiness. Even so, guilt twinged. How could I laugh when Papa was dead? I blinked away sudden tears. Oh, I was a mess!

Alira remained quiet as we drove down the main street of Avani. She’d grown pensive, staring out the carriage window. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you, if you knew he was coming tonight?”

“We have had no word,” I assured her.

She shook her head. “He comes and goes as he pleases. He tries to surprise me.”

“Would he be angry with you for going out?” Why did his coming make her so anxious? Perhaps he preferred his mistress to live more properly?

She flinched. “Don’t tell him we went to the theatre.”

As if I’d tell him anything at all but
Yes, sir and no, sir
if I ever even encountered him.

I’d hidden in Avani long enough. An entire province depended on me—but I didn’t know what I would face when I returned to Shankar. How to get news? Alira wouldn’t know anything about the state of the nation. Air, not information, seemed to fill her head.

The theatre glowed with magelights, and carriages paused to unload jaunty passengers. Men in coat-tails loitered around the theatre steps. Women mingled with them—women in such attire as I’d never seen: fancy corsets and masks and tiny skirts and fur collars. They strutted confidently amongst the men, who had no compunction about grabbing handfuls of buttock or breast.

I shuddered.

Alira, immune to the improprieties, sailed through the crowd and up the theatre steps. I followed, less regally. We created a spectacle. Thank the gods cosmetic concealed my face, or the scrutiny would have overset me.

As we settled into red velvet box seats, I peered over the balcony. I’d never been to the opera before. My mother hadn’t approved.

“What is the show?” I asked.

“Oh, the usual.” Alira stared at the boxes across from us, mostly filled with men. We struck an odd chord, the two of us women without any male companions.

The lights dimmed once, twice. The audience hushed and the curtain rose. Alira rested her elbows on the railing, surveying the seats below. I found the performance shocking with the provocative dancing and the scanty costumes.

The dancers even came off the stage. Men shouted and tore off the girls’ clothing. Still Alira did not bat an eyelash. She gestured to someone in the orchestra pit, a beckoning action. Then she sat back, smiling.

“Shall we go?” I suggested, feeling terribly uncomfortable.

“Of course not,” she replied. “I’m expecting a visitor.”

As if her words summoned him, a handsome man with chestnut curls that hung to his shoulders pulled open the velvet curtain at the back of our box.

He strode past me without a glance. I pulled my skirts from his path so he wouldn’t stumble; he had eyes only for her.

“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered, kneeling before her. Alira smiled as he grabbed her gloved hands and pulled her arms away from her body.

“I don’t want to know where you got the jhass for such a dress,” the man said.

My mind churned.

“Darling,” Alira said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The man leaned into Alira until his face almost touched hers. “And I have been looking for you. Did you really go to Engashta to meet that beastly blueblood? Is that what you did, you naughty girl? I hope he paid you well.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. I knew I shouldn’t stare, but I couldn’t help it. The act had fascinated me since Erich Talata had kissed me. Alira and her partner knew what to do. He pulled at the neckline of her dress. Fabric tore, and I winced. I’d have to sew tomorrow, and what a disaster that would be. I had never mastered stitchery.

The man stood, sweeping Alira into his arms. Her pink skirts belled around them as he strode from the box.

Though glad the lovers sought a more private locale for their kisses, I was anxious at being left alone in the rowdy theatre.

I shoved my seat into the shadows of the balcony and considered what the man had said to Alira, forming a theory. He had wondered about the richness of her clothes and where she’d been. Perhaps the man was
the master! She’d been his mistress, but had run away with someone else, someone richer. She had feared that her usual protector would not welcome her back after such a dalliance. This explained why she’d been so nervous about his return. But he hadn’t seemed angry with her, only pleased. I hoped she’d make him happy tonight—happy enough to overlook the fact that his chambermaid had gone with his mistress to the theatre.
Oh dear.
Would Alira tell him she’d made me come? I did not trust her to support me. I needed to get out of Avani.

The theatre cleared as the show ended. Men carried women, or women dragged drunk, laughing men by the wrists. Silent servants followed in their wake, cleaning spilled wine and collecting discarded clothes. I continued to wait for Alira and the master in the box because I didn’t know what else to do.

The manservant who had brought us wine at the beginning of the show entered. “My lady,” he said, bowing, “the show is over.”

I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. Should I wait for Alira? Or would it be better to hurry back to the townhouse and get into my chambermaid’s attire given that the master had arrived?

“Do you have a way home?” the manservant asked.

“Oh, yes, a—a carriage. It’s midnight blue with gold trim.”

“I believe it awaits you at the curb.”

I followed the manservant down the theatre stairs and onto the street. Only Alira’s coach remained.

Cortis, who’d driven us, opened the carriage door. “Where’s the mistress?” he whispered.

“She left with a man. She didn’t say what I should do.”

“She left with a man?” Cortis raised his eyebrows. “She went home with him?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“What about our master?” Cortis demanded, affronted for the man though he’d never met him.

“I believe he
was
our master.” I voiced my theory. “Perhaps he arrived this evening and came looking for her?”

Cortis shrugged. I stepped into the carriage without his assistance. He closed the door, and we headed home.

T
he carriage stopped
in front of the townhouse. I waited for Cortis to open the door, forgetting my role as a housemaid. A raised voice outside left me shrinking into the velvet seats.

“What?” a male voice yelled. “Where?”

Cortis replied, but I couldn’t hear the words.

The carriage door burst open.

I stared into the beautiful, shadowed face of Lord Erich Talata. He might as well have kicked me in the stomach; I couldn’t breathe or make a sound. My mouth dropped open.

“Who in the hells of Amatos are you?” he roared. “And where is Alira?”

I still couldn’t speak, but I managed to close my mouth.
He didn’t recognize me. Gods in Amaranth, he didn’t recognize me!
I didn’t know whether to be happy, relieved, or upset. My chest fluttered like butterfly wings. I retracted as far into the carriage as possible, praying for time before he figured out who I was.

“That’s only Sera the chambermaid,” Cortis said. Erich ducked out of the carriage. I exhaled.

“Chambermaid?” Erich said. “What is a chambermaid doing in my mistress’s clothes, riding around in her carriage?”

He appeared again in the doorway and prodded me with—I stared down—a riding crop! As though I were an animal! He used the crop to push me none too gently from the vehicle, herding me up the front steps of the house. I stumbled on the threshold and heard my skirt rip. The crop twitched against my back, pushing me into the front entertaining salon. One more poke, and Erich sent me reeling onto the blue brocade divan.

“Where is Alira and what in the Twelve Hells is going on?” he demanded.

“We went to the theatre,” I offered, too terrified to say more. I revised my theory rapidly in my head: Alira was
Erich’s
mistress. I had even known Erich had bought a house for his mistress! I had been too dazed with stress and shock to consider that Erich would have bought his new house
in Avani
. Dear gods! I stifled a completely inappropriate manic giggle. Erich still hadn’t recognized me.

“So said the footman,” Erich snarled. “The Avani theatre? Two women unescorted? Are you mad?”

“She made me,” I whispered. “I didn’t want to go.”

Erich blew out a mouthful of air and pulled at his hair so it stood straight up. “What happened? Where did she go?”

Would he blame me for her defection? “A man came to our box. They left together. I waited for her to return, but she did not.”

Erich paced the ebony floors. He took an extra large step, selected a pretty Lysandrene porcelain vase from the table, and flung it at the wall. Shards rained onto the floor.
I’ll have to sweep that up
, I thought inanely.

“Bitch,” he muttered, staring at the broken vase. After he stalked out of the salon, I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands, hoping my heartbeat would settle. I felt faint.
Oh, gods, what would I do now?

He hadn’t recognized me. I ought to have been relieved by the anonymity, but his disregard hurt. I tried to convince myself that he’d only seen me briefly without my mask, both times in the dark. Out of context he had no good reason to remember me, and Alira had made up my face in such a way that I barely recognized myself.

Still, it stung. I had been his betrothed, albeit for a short hour. He had cupped my face in his hands and kissed me as though I were special, yet he hadn’t even looked closely enough to log my features into his mind. Like everyone else, he’d seen only my mark. How could I have forgotten that he’d had to blow out the candles to kiss me?

I stood. I would run away tomorrow, first thing
.
For the time being, I could continue to playact the part of a maid while I gathered whatever resources I could muster.

I shuffled along the corridor towards the main bedchamber. When I had imagined the master in my mind, he’d been nothing like Erich. I’d expected an older man, less beautiful, gruff and severe, especially after Alira’s anxieties. Why was she afraid of Erich Talata?

I gasped as understanding penetrated my frenzied mind. Alira was Erich’s mistress—I’d seen her at the ball in Engashta, though fully masked. Gods! I’d untied her from the chair.

Cortis came rushing down the hall with a trunk overflowing with Alira’s dresses.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Had he switched Alira into a different room?

“He’s kicking her out,” Cortis replied breathlessly. “He’s throwing all her things into the street, so if she comes back she’ll see he wants nothing to do with her.”

I stared at the dresses. They were worth a fortune, and he wanted to throw them into the street? What a waste!

“Wait!” Erich strode out of Alira’s room. Cortis paused. Erich ignored me and leaned over the trunk, plucking a few items from the heap. He handed me a pink silk dressing gown and an astonishingly brief nightdress.

“That’s all,” he said haughtily to Cortis. “You.” He crooked his finger at me. “Follow me.”

Erich brought me to his bedchamber. I set the clothing down on a chair and looked around. The room wasn’t in bad shape, but I needed to get fresh linens for the bed and make it up because I hadn’t earlier. I went to the linen chest, lifting the lid.

“What are you doing?”

“The bed, my lord,” I whispered. “I’m making it up.”

“You’re going to make my bed?”

I nodded and moved the pillows to the nearby chair. I’d learned a few things about how to make a bed.

Going through the motions of placing the sheets soothed me, though the squared corners still gave me trouble.

“You said Alira left the theatre with a man?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord.”

He stared at me for moment. Then he grabbed the skirt of my dress in both hands and yanked, tearing from the hem nearly to my waist.

“Hells!” he expelled. I stood frozen and terrified.

He grabbed another handful of the skirt and tore it again. Again and again. He destroyed the dress with his two hands, grunting like a beast. I didn’t know what to do but let him, though I covered my mouth with both hands to repress my frightened sobs. He turned abruptly from the skirt once he’d demolished it and rummaged in a trunk Cortis must have brought up when Erich arrived.

He pulled out a slender rapier. Gods above, did he mean to use that on
me
?

The sword made a hissing sound as he unsheathed it. I backed into the corner between the bed and the wall, staring at the bright flash of the blade.

Erich held it in a ready position, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He walked towards me, watching me carefully. I stood plastered against the wall with nowhere to retreat.

“You’re so quiet.” Erich stopped his progress a sword’s length from me, placing the tip of the blade on my chest at the edge of my bodice.

I quivered. Had he recognized me? Had Costas Galatien offered a reward for the capture or killing of Sterling Ricknagel? Tears spilled down my cheeks.
Oh, no
.
The cosmetic will run.
I nearly passed out, my heart raced so fast.

“Amatos. I’m not going to hurt you.” With a sudden flick of his arm, Erich cut downwards. The blade never reached my skin; his touch was that exact. The bodice parted like petals falling from a too-ripe blossom. Sharp steel sliced the soft silk all the way past the waist. The blade met up with one of the ragged tears in the skirt, and the entire ruined gown fell.

I shook and swayed.

Without looking at me, Erich collected the dress, carried it to his bedchamber door, and threw it into the hallway.

“Footman!” he yelled. “There’s one more dress for the street!”

I hastily patted at my face with my hands, brushing the moisture from my eyes. Though Erich had ruined the chemise, the waist cincher held it in place. Thank the gods; I was not completely naked. Dazed and uncertain, I stumbled back to the bed to finish making it. I didn’t know what else to do, and the task soothed my terror. I stuffed the pillows into their cases and plumped them. I pulled the ornate cover and smoothed it even when there were no wrinkles left.

“The man she left with,” Erich said behind me. “You did not know him?”

“No, my lord.” I faced him.

Erich spun his blade with a twist of his wrist. I subsided against the wall. He crossed the room in two strides and had his sword back against my chemise. His face twisted with an expression I could not name, though it resembled—grief? Despair? Certainly it spoke more of inner pain than outer cruelty.

He nudged the blade under the torn fabric to rest it against my skin. He stared at the place where his sword touched me, a crazed glint in his eyes.

If you show your fear
you’ll give him too much power. That’s what he wants, to feel powerful.
Because Alira had made him feel unmanned.

“Now,” he said, “tell me everything. You went to the theatre. Describe how you arrived.”

I looked at his face as I spoke, growing more certain that violence was not his intent. Some deep pain tortured Erich Talata, and Alira’s betrayal had
hurt
him. That tightness around his mouth was not anger but sadness, deep and untouchable. I knew that feeling only too well.

I was able to speak without a quaver in my voice. “We went to a private box to watch the show. Alira did not watch at all. She spent the whole show looking for someone.”

“Where did she look?”

“At the audience.”

Erich frowned. “She did not say for whom she searched?”

“No. The show grew wild. The performers went into the audience and—” I decided not to finish that sentence. “She spotted someone in the orchestra pit and waved to him. I asked if she wanted to leave, but she said she expected a visitor. He came into the box and they kissed and kissed.”

Erich flinched.

I stared at the floor, embarrassed, fearing I’d only caused him more pain.

Erich’s blade nudged. “What did he look like? Did he say anything?”

“He was tall, with dark, curly hair. He wore nice clothes, but not too nice. Not like yours.” Not like a scion of the Ten Houses, I meant. “He said he’d missed her. He—carried her out in his arms.”

Erich snorted. “I’m sure she ate that up like custard.” His rapier twisted as he turned away, cutting the skin of my chest. I yelped. His blue eyes widened. “Damn it!”

Erich threw aside the sword and lifted the dressing gown from the chair, tossing it at me.

“Put that on and get on the bed.” His face had changed. He’d tucked away the despair and cloaked it with anger.

“On—on the bed?” I thought I’d misheard him.

“Now!”

I threw the dressing gown over my shoulders and scrambled onto the coverlet. I huddled against the pillows, shocked into compliance. I’d been betrothed to this creature? I’d made a lucky escape.

“Lie down,” Erich commanded. I eased onto my back and stretched my legs out stiffly, still clutching the dressing gown.

Erich turned towards his open trunk. When he came back, his expression was grim.

“Put your hands above your head.” Again I obeyed, although my heart hammered against my ribs. Erich moved quickly, looping a rope around both my wrists without ever touching my flesh. He must have prepared his knot while he hovered over the trunk; he cinched it down tight in an instant. Then he pulled the rope and tied it to the bedposts.

“Why?” I murmured aloud.

Erich looked down at his handiwork. In Engashta, I’d been drawn to his crystal blue eyes, but at this moment they had a blurred, desperate darkness in their depths. “We can’t have your hands free for this.” He peeled his glove from his left hand. “Close your eyes, too.”

I stared at him. What was he going to do to me? Every dark and disturbing rumor I’d ever heard about him rushed into my mind.

“Do it, or I’ll blindfold you,” he said.

I slammed my eyes closed, mainly to suppress my tears.

“Good girl. This might hurt, but only for a moment.”

A new, fierce, burning sensation lit up my chest, right where the rapier had cut. The burn transformed to an itch, and then to a sensuous, calming warmth of almost unbearable pleasure.

My eyes flew open. Erich snatched his bare hand from my chest, his face contorted with wonder, shock, and despair, all mixed. He grabbed his rapier, sliced through the ropes, and ran out of the room.