Matti gave a sudden sunburst of a smile and touched Luca’s mouth. He did it absently, as though his hand was acting freely from the rest of him: a touch like an exploration of new cloth’s texture, like a finger between pages, marking the place in a book. Luca’s whole body tried to sway into the smallness of it. He would have paid every bronze he’d ever earned, every gold in the coffers of his House, to hear Matti say be quiet, or be still, and to keep on looking at Luca like this while he waited for Luca to comply.
