“I’ll be fine,” I say, though the thought of him leaving makes my heart ache. “I understand if you need to go...find yourself...”
“I can’t leave because I love you, Sorina,” he says. His expression becomes pleading, one of such vulnerability that I’m taken aback. “I love you, even if doing so is mad. And why travel to a place I’ve never been when I can find myself with you?”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. I don’t know what to say. I want to squirm out of his arms so I can avoid looking at him and the embarrassment on his face. His cheeks flush, and I am certain my chest will burst.
“But you’re an illusion,” I say. “I created you.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not real.”
I wince, remembering Villiam’s harsh words about my illusions. “What I mean is, you don’t have to love me. Even if I created Hawk to be my sister and Crown to be my grandfather, you don’tneedto be connected to me.”
“It’s not aneed,” he snaps. “It’s a want. But if you don’t want me—”
“It’s not that at all! When Villiam accused you, I was distraught over Venera’s death. I let him confuse me, and I’ll forever hate that he so easily turned me against you.” I bite my lip, uncertain if I should go on, if I want to bring up the misery of those days, but Luca nods at me to continue.
I owe it to him to apologize properly. “I was distraught and devastated. I still struggled to wrap my head around the accusations because...I love you, and it was impossible to see beyond it. When I thought you were gone...it was terrible.” My voice has reduced to a whisper, and Luca’s expression has softened. “So it’s not that I don’t love you. I’m just scared because the only people in my life are figments of my own imagination.”
He sets me down. We have reached his caravan. It would feel better to stand, to pace, but Luca sits on the edge and leans against the door. He motions for me to join him. I sit close to him, my legs dangling several inches from the grass.
“I am not a toy,” he says. “And neither is the rest of your family. Your illusions, whatever you imagined them to be, don’t turn out the way you plan because you cannot control us. I’ve made my own decisions, and you’re one of them. Don’t diminish me to something less than a person. If I want to try to be with you, it’s because Ichooseyou.”
His face is inches from mine, and I stare into his dark eyes. My heart, broken and exhausted from weeks of tragedy and betrayal, manages to flutter. He wants to be with me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to know if...” He squeezes my hand, his eyes peering through me as if I’m not even wearing a mask. I brace myself for what he is about to ask. I’m prepared to give him anything, if only he will forgive me, if only he will keep loving me. “If you will let me apply for the vacant position in your show.”
I bark out a laugh. “What?”
“If Nicoleta is going to take over the duties as proprietor, you’ll need a new manager.” His eyes glint mischievously. “Were you expecting me to say something else?” He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“The pay won’t be much,” I say.
“I’ll take a pay cut if it means not being slayed for sport.” He smiles, dimples and all, as he presses his forehead against mine.
I’m breathless.
“Unu and Du bicker incessantly.”
“I’m sure I can tolerate that.” His breath warms my cheeks.
“Crown’s food... It’s really terrible.” My voice grows quieter with each word.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Luca runs his hand through my hair, making me tingle all the way down my back.
I kiss him, and he kisses me back in a way that makes me dizzy. Not dizzy from his lips, or the taste of him, or the smell of his soap, but dizzy in my thoughts. I’m kissing Luca, the boy who loves me, who sees me as more than a freak. The boy who’d call himself a freak, too.
“Just say yes,” he whispers.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I peek behind the curtain at the audience from a southern town in the Up-Mountains, a quiet place used to the comings and goings of Gomorrah but no less delighted with our visits every few years. They wear simple clothes and, due to the harsh mountain winter, coats buttoned all the way up from their knees to their necks. They chatter about the last time they visited Gomorrah and other acts they’ve seen earlier tonight, like the fire-juggler who wears all black or the swan dragon at the Menagerie.
I search the front row for Nicoleta and then spot her at the end. She wears her light brown hair down and wavy, and she laughs and whispers into the ear of her date, a gorgeous girl of mixed background, a charming smile and delicate, feminine features. Whatever joke Nicoleta told must have been crude, as several visitors around them turn to glare, which only makes the pair laugh harder. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Nicoleta grin like that.
