Sterling (15 page)

W
e had
to walk across the High City to reach the district where Erich’s townhouse nestled amongst the homes of the wealthy, close to the gates of the crumpled Conservatoire of Magic, whose nine mageglass turrets had been the tallest spires in the city. Only twisted metal remained of them.

Erich led me silently into the Talata home. Anxieties plagued me: was Tirienne Talata waiting within? Would Erich abandon me to his mother’s scant mercy? She’d have me trussed and tied and delivered to Costas Galatien in under an hour.

We passed a bowing manservant. The house seemed unnaturally quiet. Erich strode into the front room and glared at the single candle that lit the room. He picked it up from the side table. “Costas made sure I’d have only one candle a night for years. Damned Amatos.”

I shivered as Erich led me into a parlor. No fires warmed the freezing house.

“Sit.” Anger—or upset?—tinged Erich’s voice.

I inched onto the nearest chair. “How did you find me?”

“Did you think it would be hard, Sterling?” Erich paced in front of me, his face cast in shadows. “I went to the goldsmith, and he told me you’d sold your earrings. I asked if you had a mark on your face; he said no, so I knew you must be wearing cosmetic. I went to the stage office in Avani and learned that a pretty blonde had bought a ticket on the express to Galantia.

“The Galatien Guards manning the Rift crossing shared the details of one Sera Rachell who’d recently boarded a ferry to Galantia with a Dragonnaire. I took the next ferry and saw the two of you on the stairs beneath the street lamps. Simple.” Erich snapped his fingers in my face.

I flinched. “Let me go home, Erich.”

“Home? What do you think is waiting for you at home, Sterling? There’s a cadre of Dragonnaires occupying Ricknagel Manor, lying in wait for you to return. Costas sent two legions into Shankar to bolster the border with Vhimsantyr in case the Eastern Empire gets wind of our broken magic. More legions are being deployed as we speak. I expect Costas himself will soon head to Shankar to command the troops, lest there be an outright attack from the Empire. And you fancy you’ll just skip on home and set up house in Shankar?”

Erich’s words left me white with terror and anger. The Eastern Empire sought to attack? After everything my father had done to broker peace with them? His treaties and agreements that had cost House Ricknagel so much? I was livid, horrified, outraged. I wanted to scream.

“If the Eastern Empire is making threats, then I
must
get back,” I said stiffly. I had to remind the Governor of Vorisipor of the treaty my father had made with him. I began to mentally compose a harshly-worded letter.

“I hadn’t thought you a fool, Sterling.”

“I’m not!”

“Running away from me was foolish. Heading to Shankar without Costas’s permission is even more so. You need to present yourself to Costas here in Galantia, make peace with him, and then follow his orders. There will be punishments for your father’s rebellion, of course. But do you want to be an outcast forever?”

“But—”

“Amatos!” Erich stamped towards me and grabbed my collar, hauling me up so his face hovered inches from mine. “Don’t you see? If his Dragonnaires catch you on the run, he’ll have no reason to give you clemency. If you come to him under my protection, if you offer yourself willingly, he’ll forgive you, but only if you make it look good for him. Running off on your own is crazy. It’s a surefire way to create trouble. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Why should I trust you?” I cried, shoving his chest. Of course he didn’t budge. “You’ve done nothing to earn it. You tied me up. You seduced me. What could I think but that you meant to use me as a bargaining chip to get yourself back into Costas’s good graces?”

“What if I did?” Erich snarled. “It would serve us both. How can I help you if I have none of the benefits of my position in the Ten Houses? My gains are yours, don’t you see? Everything I’m doing, I’m doing for
us
.”

“You must think I’m stupid as well as ugly.” I dropped into the chair.

“Sterling.” Erich stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, frowning. “I don’t understand you.”

“Everyone must be a mystery to someone so self-absorbed. Take a moment and think! I’m Sterling Ricknagel. My father captured Costas Galatien and took his throne! Costas assassinated my sister, his own wife! Do you think he’ll ever feel merciful towards me? Do you think he’ll care what happens one way or another to quiet, meek, disfigured little Sterling Ricknagel? If he catches me, he’ll kill me. The end.”

“You misjudge him. He never killed your sister. He doesn’t have such evil in him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Commanding the deed is the same as doing it, in my mind. Erich, after my father caught Costas, I saw him trapped in magic. I met his gaze while he sat in that mageglass cage. I saw his shame. I saw his humiliation. I saw his hatred. Costas will not forgive me.”

“Trust me, Sterling.” Erich knelt before me, putting his finely shaped hand over mine, but no heat flared at our touch. “Please.”

I shook my head. “I’m too afraid.” Facing down Costas Galatien horrified me.

“Sterling.” Erich cupped my face, staring at his own hands. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re not alone in this.”

“Stop it.” I batted his hands on my cheeks. “I’m tired of this. I only want to go home. Leave me alone, Erich. Leave me alone.”

“Alone? Leave you? You forget we are betrothed,” Erich said darkly. He turned away to study a figurine on the mantel.

“Not anymore.” Did he speak from a feeling of obligation?

“We could be again, if you presented yourself to Costas and begged his forgiveness.”

I controlled the impulse of my hand to scratch at my face. “I don’t understand.”
Had Erich just proposed to me?

“Amatos, Sterling, we must marry,” Erich said. “I—we—you know we must.”

My hand unfettered itself from my best intentions and clawed at my cheek. Manic laughter erupted from my mouth. Erich fretted over my lost virtue. How gallant!

My laughter subsided all too quickly into suspicion. This had to be another a ploy to get me to Costas as quickly as possible.

“You want to marry me?” I wished to be clear about his tactics. The laughter threatened again, my hysteria rising.

Erich picked up one of the statuettes from the mantel. He squeezed it in his fist and finally looked at me. “Are you laughing at me?”

“You’re toying with me.”

Erich placed the little figurine back on the shelf and walked to my side with the look of a man going into battle: purposeful. “Sterling.” He seemed to think saying my name over and over again would convince me of his sincerity.

I couldn’t let him see how much I wanted to play his game. I longed to feel wanted; when he’d thought I was Sera the chambermaid, I had believed in his desire. How tempting to succumb to such fantasies, to allow myself the luxury of comforting lies.

I firmed my resolve, clutching my reticule and imagining the soothing smoothness of my Ophira against my cheek.

“Well?” he said finally. “Will you?”

I walked out of the study. Erich did not follow. The man who had answered the door waited in the dark hall.

“I would like to sleep,” I told him.

“Very well.” The man held out an arm. “Allow me.” He escorted me up the stairs and down the hall to a bedchamber.

I took off my traveling dress, hung it in the armoire, and then removed my boots. I turned down the bed. At least I had the night to sleep. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Perhaps Costas would have already headed east by the time Erich dragged me to the Palace.

I would impede Erich’s goals by any means available.

* * *

I
n the middle
of the night, something wrapped around my back like a masquerade domino.

I touched the hand that clasped my waist and slid my fingers up the attached forearm, knowing it must be Erich, but astonished all the same. Why was he holding me? Why didn’t his touch send those delicious slivers through my body anymore?

Erich turned to the bedside table and opened a drawer, the muscles of his back shining in the moonlight from the window.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Erich fussed with something on the bed stand. “It’s my bed.”

“Why would your butler put me in your room?”

“Because I told him to.”

“He thinks I’m your mistress?”

“You are my mistress.”

“Only for that little while in Avani, and it was a sham—”

“Close your eyes and hold still.”

I obeyed him, not because I thought it wise, but because of habitual obedience to direct commands. I felt him slip something over my wrists. When he tightened it, I knew what it was: his damned rope.

My eyes snapped open. Erich held the other ends of his rope firmly. He leaned over and deftly knotted the rope around the bedposts. Soft and supple, the velvet rope caressed my skin, but he’d tied me tightly; I couldn’t loosen the binds at all.

“Still?” I wondered aloud. “But I don’t feel your—”

“Hush,” he said. “I don’t dare to make love to you any other way, no matter what.” Then he sank his fingers into my hair. It didn’t take him long to disarray it over my shoulders. He smoothed the curls with his graceful fingers.

“Such lovely hair,” he said.

“Alira’s was paler.”

“Alira’s was fake. Yours is perfect—and real.” His fingers moved over my face, coming to rest on the right cheek, where my mark remained concealed.

I jerked away. His hands followed, grabbing my chin to angle my face towards his. “Does it truly bother you so?”

“No one touches my face,” I whispered.

“Except me. I want to kiss your mark until you believe you’re desirable.”

“Stop!” I twisted my chin from his grip, although the ropes prevented me from moving far. “You’re a liar, Erich Talata,” I hissed. “I heard you in Engashta. You called me hideous. You could barely stand to look at me.”

Erich grabbed my shoulders. “I was ignorant. I hadn’t even met you.”

I squirmed against the ropes. “Why did you tie me up?”

“I want to touch you.” He said it so plaintively, he almost sounded rational.

“I don’t believe you.”

His hands released my shoulders. “What would it take to convince you?”

“Convince me of what?”

“That I want to touch you. That I want you.”

“Untie me.”

“No, Sterling—”

“You want me to believe you? You want me to trust you? Then trust me. Let me touch you. Untie me.”

Erich looked down at my bound wrists. “I can’t.”

“The only reason you wouldn’t be able to untie me is if you were keeping me captive for nefarious purposes. So I won’t believe you’ve done this because you want me,” I said with as much scorn as I could muster.

Erich stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “I thought you understood, Sterling.” His tone was wounded. “I explained how it was for me, in Avani. I fear someone touching me when I’m in such an—uncontrolled state.”

“Even me?” The question slipped out inadvertently.

He ignored it. “In Avani you said you trusted me. You let me tie you.”

“That was different. You didn’t know who I was.”

“That doesn’t change anything, Sterling. Not between our bodies.”

I let out a breath. He was being deliberately dense to further his plans. Only a fool would believe that ugly Sterling Ricknagel tempted wickedly handsome Erich Talata.

Ever so softly, he sat on the bed and placed his hands back in my hair. He pulled one curled strand out long and released it. He did it again, silently, and then let his palms cradle the back of my skull.

His touch devastated me—not because of the sparks, which remained absent—but because of how tempting it was to believe in it. Had I been a different person, I would have been able to resist. But I had never been prepared for such attention. I’d never had anyone’s singular focus trained on me. People didn’t touch me. My father’s affections were rare; he’d been a busy man, and when he had been home, his time had been spread thinly over his family and his many concerns as Lord Ricknagel. A pat on my head or an arm around my shoulder had been the extent of his physical regard.

But this decadence of touch that Erich gave! I didn’t know how to resist. His caresses fixed me in place as surely as his ropes did. I wanted more of his touch, more of
this
. I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

Is it so wrong to give myself up to a momentary and fleeting pleasure?
I would forget myself beneath him, forget the mark on my face, forget the dangers of my existence. Erich pushed down my chemise and ran his fingers along my collarbones.

He opened his mouth over where my neck and body met, tracing his tongue to my shoulder. My body froze in delight.

As if he could feel my capitulation, Erich’s hands tightened and pulled me against his body. “Yes, Sterling. Let me have you.” He adjusted my chemise so I lay nearly naked before him. He held me in place while his mouth roved over my flesh, his tongue darting into my navel.

I made no sound; I closed my eyes to keep up the fiction of my desirability.