I smirk. “Not even Ed, the Leather Viper?”
“We occasionally have tea, but I’ve found most people I meet with prefer to tell me their problems simply because no one else will listen or no one else cares. They tend not to reciprocate. Ed normally rambles on about a man he’s in love with who barely knows his name.”
It would be difficult, in my opinion, to not notice someone who goes by the name “The Leather Viper.”
“I guess I don’t just look at someone and think...attraction,” Luca says. “It takes, I don’t know... I have to care about the person first.” His gaze flickers to me, and I’m amused to see that his cheeks are red. He clears his throat. “That’s probably everything important about me that you didn’t know. Unless you have further questions.”
“No. I’m good.”
He moves his thumb in circles on the inside of my palm. “Is there anything else we can do to pass the time until Venera gets back? Now that I feel so very exposed?”
I rack my brain for something to do. What does my family do for fun? Mainly bicker with each other and complain about there not being enough food around. Or practice our acts. Lucky coins is more of a fierce competition than simply fun.
“I can show you my bug collection,” I say.
“Is that a euphemism?”
“I have over two hundred different species from all over the world. Including a Giamese tortoiseshell moth.”
“You have me convinced. A ‘Giamese tortoiseshell moth,’” he says. “Am I supposed to have heard of that?”
“It’s very rare. Legends say it can produce an elixir of youth from its venom. That isn’t true, but the venom does make the skin puffy and hard. Ladies sometimes put it around their eyes to get rid of wrinkles.”
I stand up and lead him to my section of the tent, made up of my bed, some clothes strewn about—both mine and Venera’s—and the chests full of my bugs. Luca glances around, particularly at my bed.
“Are you positive ‘bug collection’ isn’t a euphemism?”
“I’m starting to think you want it to be.”
“Hey, I’m quite interested in this moth. I swear.”
I lift open the first trunk and find the Giamese tortoiseshell moth on the top.
Luca peers into my crate of preserved insects. “I thought most girls collected jewelry.” He narrows his eyes. “Did that one just move?”
“Of course not. They’re frozen,” I say, though there have been times when I swear I’ve seen some move, as well. “I like bugs because you can learn something different about each one you have, and they’re specific to different regions—”
“Like, I don’t know, dried flowers, perhaps—”
“I can remember each city we’ve visited because of an insect I’ve found while there.”
“You are a complete hypocrite,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
“You yell at me for killing cockroaches for my performance, and yet you sleep next to a giant chest full of dead bug carcasses that you keep for your own viewing enjoyment.”
“They’re not dead,” I say. “They’re petrified. They never felt a thing.”
“Nor will they ever again. So much for the nectar they could’ve eaten or the wind they could’ve felt between their little wings—”
There are footsteps in the main part of the tent. My heart leaps into my throat. Is it Venera, or someone else?
Luca puts his fingers over his lips and then peeks his head out of my room.
Venera shrieks.
“There’s no need to scream,” he says. “Honestly, you’re the one wearing green lipstick.”
“You must be Luca.” Venera pushes aside the tent flap and peers in. “Where is everyone?” Her gaze falls to the moth in my hand. “And, really, Sorina, there are more creative things you could be showing off back here besides your bugs.”
“The Giamese tortoiseshell moth is quite a sight,” Luca says.
She smirks. “I’m sure it is. Now, where is everyone else?”
“We had a family meeting. While in Gentoa, everyone is getting locked up in here.” I tap my forehead. “Except for shows. For protection.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Just trying to take precautions.”
“And who’s going to protect you? Isn’t this the one whose head you caught rolling off a stage?”
“So she’s told you about me,” Luca says, clearly amused.
“Just for tonight,” I say. “I have bodyguards coming tomorrow and for the rest of the time in Gentoa.”
“I have a life, Sorina,” she says.
“I realize that.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone after us.”
“It’s better to be safe.”
She pouts her green-painted lips. “But the parties.”
“There’ll be parties when we get to Sapris.”
“Beach parties—”
“Oh, just give it up,” I say. Before she can whine more, I hoist her Strings into my mental Trunk and lock it. Her defeated groan lingers in the air for a moment before she is entirely gone. “She’s such a baby.”
“It’s better that she’s safe,” he says. “You’ve made the right decision, keeping them locked away while in Gentoa.”
“You think so? I feel like I’m only going to start a panic. And I’m worried about Crown, who’s been coping with Blister’s death by convincing himself it was an accident,” I say. “After all this time looking for the killer, I feel like we haven’t made any progress. I feel like I haven’t protected my family at all.”
“Sorina,” he says, and the force in his voice quiets me. “You have gone above and beyond to protect them. I promise that the two of us will find out who is responsible. I will do anything I possibly can to help you. I don’t... I don’t know your family very well, but I care about you quite a bit.”
My heart skips a beat. “I care about you ‘quite a bit,’ too,” I say, imitating the posh way he speaks.
I don’t know which one of us moved first, or if I ever made the decision to move at all. One moment, we were at least a stride apart, and then the next, my chest is pressed against his and his arms are around my waist, our lips meeting with urgency.
This isn’t anything like the last time we kissed, when I was the only one involved. Luca’s mouth opens and his hands press hard into my back. He seems to want this as much as I do.
I squeeze the Giamese tortoiseshell moth vial in my hand, unwilling to drop it, but not knowing what to do with it. After a few minutes, when Luca makes it clear from his tugging on my hand that he wants to move to the floor, I pause for a moment to return the precious insect to the chest.
“It’s an interesting bug,” Luca says.
“You’re lying,” I say, kneeling beside him. “You don’t think it’s interesting.”
“I think you’re interesting.”
I pull him closer to me by his vest. His poison vials jingle. In my head, the knocking on the Trunks of the illusions grows louder. My head aches, but I ignore it. “You’re making it difficult to concentrate,” I say, kissing him again.
“Let me know when you want to stop, then,” he says, his lips moving to my neck.
“Are we moving too fast?” I ask suddenly.