I only managed the circles under my eyes, and it took every bit of my focus.”
“But you were never a gifted Tailor.”
“Manners, Fjerdan.”
“Nina.”
“This was different. It wasn’t just challenging, it was painful. It’s hard to explain.”
“What about compelling behaviors?” Matthias asked. “The way you did at the Ice Court when you used the parem .”
“I don’t think it’s possible anymore.”
“Have you tried?”
“Not exactly.”
“Try it on me.”
“Matthias, we have work to do.”
“Try it.”
“I’m not going to go rattling around in your head when we don’t know what might happen.”
“Nina—”
“Fine,” she said in exasperation. “Come here.”
They had nearly reached East Stave and the crowds of revelers had grown thicker. Nina pulled him into an alley between two buildings. She lifted his mask and her own veil; then slowly, she placed a hand on either side of his face. Her fingers slid into his hair and Matthias’ focus shattered. It felt like she was touching him everywhere.
She looked into his eyes. “Well?”
“I don’t feel anything,” he said. His voice sounded embarrassingly hoarse.
She arched a brow. “Nothing?”
“What did you try to make me do?”
“I’m trying to compel you to kiss me.”
“That’s foolish.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I always want to kiss you,” he admitted.
“Then how come you never do?”
“Nina, you just went through a terrible ordeal—”
“I did. That’s true. You know what would help? A lot of kissing. We haven’t been alone since we were aboard the Ferolind .”
“You mean when you almost died?” said Matthias. Someone had to remember the gravity of this situation.
“I prefer to think of the good times. Like when you held my hair as I was vomiting into a bucket.”
“Stop trying to make me laugh.”
“But I like your laugh.”
“Nina, this is not the time to flirt.”
“I need to catch you off your guard, otherwise you’re too busy protecting me and asking me if I’m okay.”
“Is it wrong to worry?”
“No, it’s wrong to treat me like I might break apart at any moment. I’m not that fine or that fragile.” She shoved his mask down none too gently, yanked her veil back in place, and strode past him out of the alley, across the street to a shop with a golden badger over the door.
He followed. He knew he’d said the wrong thing, but he had no idea what the right thing was. A little bell rang as they entered the shop.
“How can this place be open at such hours?” he murmured. “Who wants to buy a coat in the dead of night?”
“Tourists.”
And in fact, a few people were browsing the stacks of furs and pelts. Matthias followed Nina to the counter.
“We’re picking up an order,” Nina said to the bespectacled clerk.
“The name?”
“Judit Coenen.”
“Ah!” the clerk said, consulting a ledger. “Golden lynx and black bear, paid in full. Just a moment.” He vanished into the back room and emerged a minute later, struggling beneath the weight of two huge parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “Do you need help getting these to—”
“We’re fine.” Matthias hefted the packages with little effort. The people of this city needed more fresh air and exercise.
“But it may rain. At least let me—”
“We’re fine,” Matthias growled, and the clerk took a step backward.
“Ignore him,” Nina said. “He needs a nap. Thank you so much for your help.”
The clerk smiled weakly and they were on their way.
“You know you’re terrible at this, right?” Nina asked once they were on the street and entering East Stave.
“At lies and deception?”
“At being polite.”
Matthias considered. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Just let me do the talking.”
“Nina—”
“No names from here on out.”
She was vexed with him. He could hear it in her voice, and he didn’t think it was because he’d been short with the clerk. They paused only so that Matthias could exchange his Madman’s costume for one of the many Mister Crimson ensembles folded into the packages from the furrier. Matthias wasn’t sure if the clerk had known what was stuffed in the brown-paper wrapping, if the costumes had been made in the shop, or if the Golden Badger was just some kind of drop spot. Kaz had mysterious connections throughout Ketterdam, and only he knew the truth of their workings.
Once Matthias found a large enough red cloak and placed the red-and-white lacquered mask over his face, Nina handed him a bag of silver coins.
Matthias bounced the bag once in his palm, and the coins gave a cheerful jingle. “They aren’t real, are they?”
“Of course not. But no one ever knows if the coins are real. That’s part