It happened gradually, and then all at once.

Licurius bought the sthenicon in Brandenbrass shortly after they returned from Sinster. Potives were fine, he had explained, but if he was going to be anything close to a match for her now, he'd need the advantages it gave. Europe had been in no mood to disagree with him; the writs she wanted would require both of their wits.

"You look daft with that thing on your face, Box Face," she laughed at him in her file while he practiced taking it on and off. "Your face is perfectly good without it. Take it off and kiss me." Her tone was imperious, and he smiled, warm and affectionate.

"As my lady wishes."

He became excellent with it. The organs helped, of course-they were designed to help-but it took careful practice and patience to learn to use them to their full potential. He learned to see and hear and smell better than he had ever dreamed. He made himself invaluable to her, even if she didn't kiss him nearly so ardently anymore.

And there were other uses, too. At a party Europe had little interest in attending but which she dragged him along to nonetheless, he was first shown tiny paintings of violence and fighting. The sthenicon improved his sight more than enough to make them easy to recreate. So he wore it a little more, a little longer.

"You've been down here painting for ages. Take that box off and come to bed. I wish to have your company in my bedchamber." She sounded exasperated, and he carefully removed the box, turning to her. "Oh, Box Face. You look a fright. Don't leave it on so long, it's left terrible marks on you."

He nodded, standing, towering over her in the cramped space of his workroom. "I must have lost track of time."

They were on their way to the Ichormeer when he could no longer take it off. He had lurked the shadows for her before they were sure the camp was surrounded by small blightlings of some sort, and after the inevitable stouche he didn't, or couldn't, remove it before he made her plaudamentum. Then he couldn't, or didn't, remove it before they went to sleep. By morning it was stuck fast.

Her expression was hard to read through the box, but Licurius thought it was oddly wistful, sad.

"Box Face. Well. It was inevitable, Licurius, that we should come to this."