“I’m entirely serious,” he says. “He gave me her description, and I found her. She’s a shadow-worker, lives in the Uphill, helps manage an orphan tent. Quite personable. Too good for that man.” Even though I’m not looking at him, my head is against his shoulder, and I can feel his cheeks move into a grin. “I could tell you a lot about Gomorrah’s estranged lovers and family drama.”
“How interesting.”
“I think it is. I’ve always found people’s romantic lives rather baffling. Like everyone was gushing about a song that I’ve never been able to hear.”
“You’ve never felt interested in...anyone?” I ask.
“Not really. Nothing beyond a passing thought. Then again, I wasn’t close with that many people as a child. And I don’t have any acquaintances whom I could truthfully call a friend.”
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 simplyfun.
“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 youpositive‘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 atmefor 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.”
