He does, and I try not to gasp. “I don’t mind it. Sometimes it reminds me that I’m awake.” He flashes the now-red finger at me.
“You are odd,” I say.
“The good kind or the bad kind?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Ivy taps her hourglass. “It’s time,” she whispers to me.
“Are you ready to begin, Mr. Fabry?”
“Only if you stop calling me that. I’m not my father,” he says with a smile.
“Are you ready, Auguste?”
“Yes, now that you’ve asked me nicely.” He winks before his attendant leads him to the bathing chambers.
I return to the hall that leads to the treatment salon.
Ivy rushes behind me. “Camellia”—she grabs my arm—“how do you know him?”
“We’ve met before,” I say.
“When?” Her voice turns serious. “Where?”
I’m overwhelmed with the need to lie and withhold the details of how I know Auguste, like hiding a rare and expensive gem in a secret pocket. “Just around—at court.”
“You aren’t supposed to be friendly with young men.”
“What about old ones?”
I feel her scowl beneath her veil. “You need to be careful.”
“I know. I am.”
“It is forbidden.” She clicks her teeth. “And besides, he is one of Sophia’s suitors!”
“I know.”
“The passion between two people can ruin the arcana. Poison the blood with toxins.”
I touch her shoulder. “I’ll be sure to use more leeches. On the hour.”
“Camellia.”
“I’m only teasing. I was just being nice to him.”
“Too nice,” she warns.
“I’ll work on being mean.” I leave her standing there, and walk to treatment salon four. Roses sprout out of jeweled vases. Beauty-lanterns drift overhead like small suns, shining perfect beams of light across the treatment bed. Auguste steps from behind an ivory screen in a silk robe. I blush at the sight of him.
“You sure know how to take your time,” he says. “Are you trying to run up my bill?”
“I’m certain you can be patient,” I say, just before Ivy enters the room behind me like a dark cloud. I move a cart of bei-powder bundles, just to pretend to have something to do.
His eyes are on me. It sends a warm flush across my skin. “I did a lot to get onto your schedule. After your latest feat at court, my attendant said you were booked for ten months straight.”
“What did you have to do?” I find his gaze.
“Kiss three different women, plus send them flowers and love-themed post-balloons. The expensive kind, from Marchand’s shop.”
“Can’t you get in trouble for that? You’re one of Princess Sophia’s suitors.”
“I swore them to secrecy. I could be the future king, and they think all kings need mistresses. It’s made me more popular.”
“Disgusting.”
“I try not to disappoint.”
“Aren’t you humble.” I laugh, then turn my back to him. I light tiny tea candles beneath a chafing dish to start melting a skin-color pastille.
“I went to a lot of trouble to get here.”
“It sounds exhausting.”
“It was. Backbreaking work.”
I stifle a laugh. Ivy groans.
“What services would you like?” I ask.
“Make me look as handsome as I already am.”
“Who said you were handsome?”
“The women I had to kiss in order to take their appointments. Also, I was featured in last season’s male beauty-scope.”
“Good for you.”
“Are you not amused?”
Ivy clears her throat again.
Auguste turns to her. “Are you sick, miss? Because I cannot afford to catch a cold.”
“No, sir, I’m not—”
“Well, then, perhaps you should leave us anyway. I’m feeling a bit shy with all these people in the room,” he says.
I feel Ivy’s stares through her veil, no doubt waiting for me to ask her to stay. I press my lips together until she rises from her seat.
“If that’s what you wish,” Ivy says.
“It is,” he replies.
She curtsies and saunters out. The air in the room thickens like pudding now that she’s gone.
“You lied. You aren’t shy,” I say.
“Not in the least,” he says. “I just wanted to be alone with you. Or as alone as is possible, within the rules.”
My cheeks warm. I glance away. “So, what services do you want?”
“I hate that I even have to do this.”
I frown.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, I dislike”—he waves his hand around—“the fact that I need to be altered. The ship had to dock every month for us to have this maintenance done. It always felt so ridiculous. Unnecessary.”
I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to process his distaste. I thought everyone loved changing the way they looked. I thought they all coveted it. “Then let yourself be gray.”
“Then no one would want to look at me.”
“You’d be rid of all of this.” I wave my arms around.
“But now I think I’ll like these treatments more, because I can have them done with you.” He stares at me.
I fiddle with metal instruments on a nearby cart. “I might not be available next time.”
“I’ll do what it takes. I’ll find a way.”
“Why would you go to this trouble?”
“I don’t know, really,” he says. “I went to the Chrysanthemum Teahouse two days ago and didn’t like—”
“You saw my sister?” My heart skips.
“I did.”
“How is she?”
“A little grumpy. She wasn’t amused by my charm.”
“I don’t think many people are.”
His mouth drops open. “Ouch.”
“How did she seem?”
“After I tried to flirt with her, lighten the mood, she refused to speak to me.”
I imagine Auguste on Amber’s treatment table and almost laugh. His antics definitely would have gotten under her skin.
“We should begin,” I say.
“Yes.” He starts to disrobe, and servants rush forward to help.
I whip around.
“Are you shy?” he asks.
“No, but it is not customary for me to see you nude. You should’ve waited until I left the room.”
“I don’t care much for customs.” The bed groans as he climbs onto it. “Plus, I’m not naked. Not to worry. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not afraid?”
“A thousand.”
“You’re harmless.”
“I’m quite dangerous, actually.” He playfully grazes my arm. The touch of his fingers sends a warm ripple through me. I slip out of his grasp.
“Do you behave like this with all women?”
“No, just you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You don’t trust me?” he asks.
“I don’t know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Nothing.” Everything. Bree lifts one of the hourglasses on the table, showing me I only have a few more minutes left in his session.
“It’s almost time for my next client.”
“Well, you’ve done an awful lot of talking,” he says. “So I should get more time. You haven’t given me my spintria’s worth.”
“You’re the one who’s been asking questions. And you haven’t told me what you want.”
“You choose. I, at least, trust you.” He closes his eyes.