Sterling Read Online Free PDF Page B

the guests were occupied with the dance, there were plenty of others watching us: Tirienne Talata, for one, with narrowed eyes and white fingers clutching her wine flute. She stood near the dais, flanked by two House mages in their plain white robes. All her attention was focused on her son, but I could not read her face.
    Erich again blocked my view of the room—in what I felt was a very controlling manner. “You’d still marry a man you caught in flagrante delicto ?”
    I ducked past him and headed towards a wine-laden servant, dodging wide skirts, coat-tails, and whispers.
    I grabbed a glass from the servant’s tray and squeezed against the papered wall between a matron with a tall feathered mask and a young man who murmured, “Princess Sterling” and gave me room.
    “You surprise me,” Erich said, once again standing directly in front of me, heedless of our neighbors’ stares. “How can you not mind?”
    I hated that he was pursuing this conversation in public.
    “You can do whatever you want,” I said. The matron was eavesdropping. I leaned as close to Erich’s ear as I dared, but he retracted away from me sharply, a frown marring his handsome face.
    “What do I care what you do?” I hissed. “Only please have the dignity to clean yourself before you touch me. Your touch disgusted me. I knew what your hands—gloved or not—had been up to, you see.”
    “I understand.” He stepped back, a crease forming between his brows. He turned his back and crossed both arms over his chest, as though he could will me away by ignoring me.
    My father had not returned to ballroom. I scanned everywhere but could not find him. Despite the crowd, I felt quite alone, especially as it did not seem Erich would dance with or even acknowledge me again.
    The darfossa ended and another set began. The ballroom teemed. Men leered. Women flirted. In truth, I was a little tipsy—I’d downed that last wine far too quickly. I stepped off the wall, deciding I needed something more substantial than half a madeleine in my stomach, and wavered as I hurried towards the food sideboards. I almost ran into a couple kissing shamelessly. At the last moment I sidestepped them and lost my balance.
    A gloved hand, firm and warm and tingling on my wrist, kept me from tumbling to the floor. “Sterling,” Erich murmured. “We should talk.” He yanked his hand away as soon as I regained my balance. “I want you take your mask off,” he continued. His breath smelled heavily of alcohol, stronger stuff than wine, too. Akavit? Brandy?
    “I want to see you.” He reached to remove my mask.
    I slapped at his hand, missing. “No! Not here!”
    “Why not?”
    “People are looking!” My unguarded answer revealed my true feelings. He’d know my shame to be seen publicly. Was he truly unaware that half the ballroom was tracking our every interaction?
    “Let’s go somewhere else then.” Erich’s unexpected response calmed me. He led me back to the library where I’d first seen him, lighting a candelabrum by the door and carrying it deep into the room, down to the back of the bookshelves.
    I followed, a mix of dread, anticipation, and relief stewing in my stomach. At least it was quiet in the library, with only the faintest strains of music reaching through the walls.
    I’d known I’d have to show him my face eventually, but I’d picked the masquerade as a delay, thinking that if we could get to know each other without my horrible face in the way, he might appreciate me for my other qualities.
    How naïve that plan had been. If anything, getting to know Erich had only made matters worse. Nothing could alleviate the problem of my face. He’d see me and loathe me. I sighed. It didn’t matter. He loathed me already. My footsteps in his wake were not eager.
    “Sterling! Come on.” Did he think I’d run away? Couldn’t he imagine what my life had been like, a disfigured girl in a world that valued a woman’s beauty above her intelligence or