Kazimir snorted. “Is your talent not great? Are you not a genius? I am a beautiful body, but you create life.”
“I approximate it,” Jacob corrected, with a hint of temper that was a mild breeze to the King’s tempest. Kazimir wanted to touch him and laugh in his face. He wanted to take one of those clay sculptures and make Jacob study it until Jacob was forced to admit what he was.
“You see the truth, prophet,” Kazimir declared boldly.
Jacob swallowed, then reached for more wine. “It is a gift best not used. Though now it can be used with a purpose. For something noble, perhaps. That is a blessed feeling, even with the fear.”
“What do you mean?” Kazimir did not follow. “What have you to fear?”
“Nothing to concern you yet. Madness, if anything.” Jacob shrugged and found his cup too interesting. “Will you dance today? Would you like to?” he corrected. “Today, you should only do things you want to do.”
Kazimir closed his eyes and breathed. Then he opened them again in order to cross to stand in front of Jacob’s table. He sat down, slowly, and exchanged Jacob’s cup for one filled with water.
“I am not from this country,” Kazimir told him, all whispers. Jacob raised his head. Kazimir took a sip of Jacob’s wine. “I am from the north and east. Would you like to hear about it?”
Jacob nodded, his gaze muddled from the wine but intent. “Please.”
“The winters were colder,” Kazimir began, and did not stop for some time, and then only because Jacob needed to sleep.
THE BRUISES did not have time to yellow before Kazimir was back in Jacob’s workshop again, pulling his newest gifts from the King from his hair and discarding the gold and pearl clasps on the table.
“Jacob,” he called firmly, before turning to ready himself for dancing.
Jacob came out from behind the curtain and approached the table almost cautiously. “You sound harsh. Was I rude when we last spoke and I was lost in my cups?” He paused at the sight of the clasps, then picked one up to study it.
“You were not.” Kazimir softened his voice now that Jacob was with him. “You were honest and you listened.” The quiver in Kazimir’s stomach was not new, but today, he acknowledged it and its cause. He glanced to the side, to Jacob’s bemused but attentive expression. “Will you make the automaton exactly like me?”
Confused or not, Jacob responded seriously. “So much so that the King might even prefer it.” He grimaced a moment later. “But it will never match your grace.”
“I believe you can.” Kazimir’s stomach was filled with butterflies. He could not return Jacob’s stare so he sent his gaze to Jacob’s shoulder. “You are like the god you admire, hidden away in this mountain.”
“Hidden away is where I belong, with my manners,” Jacob muttered, or perhaps tried to joke. But the air was too still. “I will give it my best,” he went on, grave once again. “No more wine. No more delays. The sooner he has it, the sooner…”
“You will leave?” Kazimir finished for him, seeking out Jacob’s warm eyes and pleased to find them steady on him.
“Foolish dove,” Jacob chided, but so lightly it did not sting. “Once I please him, I will never be allowed to leave. He will keep demanding more, won’t he? Or destroy me so that no one else might have what he has.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I meant the sooner he has his doll without feelings, the sooner you might be free.”
Kazimir put a hand to his throat. His heart raced in his ears, almost drowning out the echo of that word.Free.He didn’t dare repeat it. “How will you--” The curtain loomed behind Jacob. Kazimir looked at Jacob with wide eyes. “I did not ask for that.”
“You could have.” Jacob had the nerve to smile. “That you didn’t…. You are a gift. I, fool that I am, thought the gods should intervene for you. Then I remembered thatIhave these skills, and I am here, and perhaps that is how they did so.”
That unbelievable idea was almost enough to return Kazimir to true devotion.
Kazimir’s world swayed and his limbs trembled. “I will dance now,” he said, although he could scarcely move, then raised his voice to ensure Jacob heard him. “I will dance now,” he repeated, too loudly this time, and smiled when Jacob frowned at him in confusion. That frown said there was no reason for Kazimir not to dance and that Kazimir did not need to announce it. Kazimir shook his head and dragged a hand through his hair and tried again so that Jacob would understand, becausedid not mindandwantwere different creatures. “I want you to watch me.”
“Ah,” Jacob said weakly, as if overcome, and sat on the nearest bench without looking to see if it was there. “I didn’t do it for that.”
“I know.” Kazimir pulled his chiton free, let Jacob see the places he had so carefully measured without touching, leaving behind almost-caresses and the impressions of fingertips that had put this fire in Kazimir’s body. “I have wanted to dance for you.”
“Ah,” Jacob said again. “Is this supposed to help me sleep? Because it will not.” He teased though his voice was rough, but spoke softly when Kazimir glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was watching. “Thank you.”
“You think this is a gift for you?” Kazimir asked, skin too warm for a mere blush, before beginning his dance.
FROM THEN ON, Jacob worked as though he had no need for rest or food, although Kazimir could see exhaustion in his slow movements and the unused state of his cot.
Kazimir found Jacob, more than once, asleep at a table, or slumped near the base of his work. He left him there, wanting Jacob to rest more than he wanted to speak with him.
If the King visited the workshop, he did so while Kazimir was not there. But his excitement increased by the day, as if the servants had gossiped about the creation behind the curtain. The King’s passions increased with it, making Kazimir almost grateful Jacob was too distracted to notice as much as he used to.
