Forty-Five
“Don’t they have any newsfeeds on this star-forsaken rock?” Kai grumbled, sliding his fingers along the base of the holograph, Luna’s version of the ever-present netscreen.
“We are in a dictatorship, Your Majesty,” said Torin, his arms folded as he stared out the window, toward the sparkling lake below. “Do you believe the newsfeeds would be reliable even if they had them?”
Ignoring him, Kai swiped his finger again.
He had sent a message to the queen that morning that the wedding would, unfortunately, have to be postponed if he wasn’t allowed to meet with his adviser prior to the ceremony, as his adviser was the one most educated on the vows and customs that would cement the wedding as a recognized political union.
Somewhat to his surprise, she assented.
It was a relief to see Torin again and assure himself that his adviser hadn’t been harmed, but that relief was matched with his growing frustration and restlessness. The queen’s broadcasting networks were his newest cause for complaint. They seemed to contain a whole lot of mindless drivel and nothing useful at all.
“I want to know what’s going on out there,” he said, flipping off the holograph. “I know it’s started. I know Cinder’s done something.”
Torin shrugged, somewhat apologetically. “I have no more answers than you do.”
“I know. I don’t expect you to. It’s just so frustrating to be stuck here when she’s—when they’re all out there! Doing … whatever it is they’re doing!” He joined Torin at the window and clawed a hand into his hair. “How can the people here stand to be cut off from the rest of the country? Without any media, they have no way of knowing what’s happening in the other sectors. Doesn’t it drive them crazy?”
“I would think not,” said Torin. “Look at the splendor they are able to enjoy, thanks to the labor of the outer sectors. Do you think the people here want their illusion of paradise destroyed by witnessing the squalor in the rest of the country?”
Kai scowled. He’d known that already, and he regretted how naïve his question sounded. But he couldn’t understand it. He still remembered the day Nainsi told him the statistics of poverty and homelessness in the Commonwealth, back when he was ten years old. Nainsi had impressed upon him how good the numbers were. How, even though the numbers had crept upward since the spread of letumosis, they still remained lower than they had been in the decades following World War IV. Even still, Kai had gone a week of near-sleepless nights, thinking of all those people, his people, who had nowhere to sleep and no food to eat, while he was so comfortable and cared for in his palace. He had even written up a proposal about how they could lease out parts of the palace to the citizens with the most need, offering up half of his own private quarters if that would help, but while his father had promised to read the proposal, Kai doubted he’d ever taken it seriously.
He could recognize, now, how childish the proposal had been, but he still couldn’t imagine not wanting to do anything to help the citizens of the Commonwealth, just like he couldn’t imagine how the members of Levana’s court could lack compassion for the people who had built the paradise they got to enjoy.
“Your face has healed well,” said Torin. “I’m sure it will be hardly noticeable in the wedding photos.”
It took Kai a moment to comprehend him. “Oh—right.” Reaching up, he felt for his cheek, where Wolf had punched him. It was only sore to the touch now, and without any mirrors to see himself, he’d forgotten all about it.
“I guess that ruse didn’t do me much good,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“It was a valiant effort, nevertheless,” said Torin. “Speaking of your time away, have you seen the report from the American military that came through this morning?”
He spun around. “Of course not—she took my portscreen.”
Torin grimaced sympathetically. “Right. I will leave you with mine.”
“Thank you, Torin. What report?”
“It appears they’ve found your friends’ ship orbiting in space, abandoned. They’re towing it back to the Republic now to begin searching it for evidence to be used against your kidnappers. Once they’re found, of course.”
Kai rubbed the back of his neck. “They knew it would happen, but still, Thorne won’t be happy when he finds out.”
“It was a stolen ship. Regardless of whose side he’s on now, the man is a thief and a deserter. I find it difficult to be sympathetic to his loss.”
Kai couldn’t keep down a wry smile. “I don’t disagree, but when we see Thorne again, maybe I should be the one to break this news to him.”
He let his gaze travel out to the edge of the lake, where the water met with the encompassing dome. It looked like the end of the world out there. Civilization inside a perfect capsule, all sparkling and pristine. Beyond it, nothing but wasteland. On the horizon he could see the edge of another dome and he wondered which it was.
He had chosen his words carefully. When they saw Thorne again, not if. Because that’s how he had to think about all of his allies, his friends. That’s how he had to think about Cinder if he was going to make it through this. He wondered where she was right now, how far she’d gone. Was she safe?
A tap at the door startled Kai, but the surprise was suffused with dread. “So it begins,” he muttered. “Enter.”
It wasn’t a wedding stylist, though, but one of his own guards in the doorway, holding a small package wrapped in strips of colored velvet. “Pardon the interruption. This was delivered by a servant as a wedding gift from Her Majesty the Queen. We’ve tested it for chemicals or explosives and have deemed it safe to open.” He held the package toward Kai.
“You mean she doesn’t intend to blow me up before the ceremony?” said Kai, taking the box. “How disappointing.”
The guard looked like he wanted to crack a smile, but he resisted. Bowing again, he retreated into the corridor.
Kai made quick work of the wrappings, eager to be done with whatever new torment Levana had devised for him. He was picturing a very tiny ball and chain as he lifted the box’s lid.
He froze. The blood drained from his head, seeping all the way down to his feet.
A cyborg finger was settled onto a bed of white velvet. Grease was smudged into the knuckle joints and disconnected wires jutted out one side.
His stomach twisted.
“She has Cinder,” he said, passing the box to Torin. Dazed, he paced back to the windows, his thoughts muddled with denial. This gift answered so many of his questions, and he realized that Torin was right.
Sometimes, it was better to be ignorant.
* * *
It had been ages since Levana could remember feeling such contentment.
Her bothersome niece was once again in captivity and, soon, would be no more bother at all.
Her annoying stepdaughter was dead and she would never again have to listen to her mutterings or indulge her inane wishes.
In mere hours, she would be married to the emperor of the Eastern Commonwealth, and in a few short days she would be given a crown and the title of empress. It would not be long before all of Earth was hers. Resources. Land. A place for her people to enjoy the beauty and luxuries Earthens took for granted.
She imagined the history texts centuries from now, telling the story of the Lunar queen who had conquered the blue planet and begun a new era. An era ruled by those most worthy.
She hardly felt the weight of the jewels that were clipped to her gown’s sleeves and draped across her collar. She hardly noticed the servants as they shuffled around her, adjusting the skirt of her wedding dress, flouncing the crinoline, making final adjustments to the bodice’s fit.
Without a mirror, Levana knew she was beautiful. She was the most beautiful queen Luna had ever known, and Kaito was lucky to have such a bride.
She was smiling to herself when she finally dismissed the servants.
“Stunning, My Queen.”
She turned
to see Aimery in the doorway.
“What liberties you take to enter without announcing yourself,” said Levana, though there was little venom to her tone. “I am preparing for my wedding ceremony. What do you want?”
“I do not wish to be a distraction. I understand this is a momentous occasion, for all of us. But I wanted to put your mind at ease regarding tonight’s … special guest. The cyborg will be brought to the throne room during the feast as requested. Everything is arranged.”
“I am happy to hear it. What a surprise her presence shall be for my new husband.” She rubbed her thumb over the base of her ring finger as she spoke, feeling the worn stone band. It was a constant memory of her first husband, Winter’s father. He would always be her only love, and she had sworn long ago that this ring would never be removed from her finger.
Concealing it was as much second nature to her now as the glamour of her red lips and serene voice.
“There is one other bit of news I must bring to your attention,” said Aimery, “though it remains under investigation, and I do not wish for it to upset you so near your wedding hour.”
“As long as the cyborg is in our custody,” Levana said around a smile, “nothing more can upset me.”
“I am glad to hear it, My Queen. For we discovered something suspicious on our visit to the mining sector. There was a royal podship docked there and upon further inspection we’ve found the ship was chartered to none other than Sir Jacin Clay.”
Levana turned to give Aimery her full attention. “Go on.”
“We have documentation of this ship leaving Artemisia forty-seven minutes after the death of Princess Winter. Of course, Sir Clay was still here, in the palace, at that time, and we do not know who was piloting it. It also seems suspicious that, no matter who was aboard that ship, they would find themselves in the same sector as the cyborg and her companions.”
Though Aimery’s expression was neutral, it was easy to discern his suspicions.
“We have video footage of Winter’s death, do we not?”
“We do, My Queen. However, as you might recall, we were experiencing technical difficulties that day, with sporadic power outages affecting surveillance throughout the palace. Allow me.”
He approached the netscreen Levana had long ago commissioned to be put into the stunning frame that had once housed her sister’s mirror, before all mirrors were destroyed. A moment later, Levana was watching Jacin and Winter inside the menagerie. The wolf prowled behind them. Winter kissed the guard with such passion it made Levana snarl. Then Jacin raised the knife and plunged it into her back. Winter’s body slumped and he lowered her to the ground with all the gentleness of a man in love. Blood began to pool beneath her.
The video ended.
She raised an eyebrow. “She is dead, then.”
“Perhaps. But I have concerns that this death might have been staged. You see, this is where the video ends—we have no footage of Jacin removing the body or killing the wolf to cover his tracks, as he claims to have done. It does seem a convenient time for this camera, in particular, to have stopped functioning.”
Levana inhaled sharply. “I see. Detain Sir Clay in a holding cell for now. I will question him after tonight’s feast.”
“I had already taken the liberty of having the guard sent for, Your Majesty, and I’m afraid he has gone missing.”
This, more than anything, gave her pause. “Missing?”
“He was to report for duty two hours ago, but he has not been seen. Of those guards we have spoken to, no one claims to have seen him since he finished last night’s shift.”
Levana’s gaze unfocused as she glanced out her windows, toward her beautiful lake, her beautiful city.
Jacin had run.
Only guilty men run.
It had to mean that Winter was alive.
Her teeth clenched with loathing—not only for her stepdaughter’s continued existence, but at the audacity of a weak-minded guard to play her for a fool. But she forced herself to breathe and let the hatred ebb from her knotted shoulders.
“No matter,” she said. “The princess is dead so long as the people believe she is dead. This changes nothing. I have much more important matters to tend to.”
“Of course.”
“Should Jacin Clay be found, he is to be killed on sight. Any word of the princess and I wish to be informed immediately.”
Aimery bowed. “Yes, My Queen. I will leave you to your preparations. Congratulations on your coming happiness.”
Levana’s smile was not forced. Her coming happiness. She liked the sound of that very much.
Aimery turned to go.
Levana gasped. “Wait, one more thing.”
Aimery paused.
“Jacin Clay’s parents are to be executed for treason—publicly, as a reminder that such betrayals will not be tolerated. Have the guards in their sector do it now, so their deaths won’t taint tonight’s wedding broadcast.” She smoothed the front of her bodice. “Jacin will know that the fault of their deaths lies with him.”
Forty-Six
Kai wasn’t sure how he’d ended up dressed like a groom again. He said nothing as the stylists fidgeted with his hair and clothes. He couldn’t have picked any of them out of a lineup once they’d gone.
Cinder was dead. That, or Levana was keeping her somewhere. He didn’t know which would be worse.
Cinder.
Her name whispered over and over in his thoughts, each time a fresh thorn in his flesh.
Brave, determined Cinder. Smart, resourceful, sarcastic Cinder.
He refused to believe that she was dead. What did a finger indicate, really? He trudged through every faint possibility. It was a fake finger Levana had crafted to torment him. Or Cinder had lost it in a battle but the rest of her had gotten away. Or … surely there must be some other explanation. She couldn’t be dead.
Not Cinder.
His brain was muddled, like the afternoon had been spent in a hazy dream. A hazy nightmare.
Whether or not the finger meant what he feared it meant, he would soon be married to Levana. After everything—all their planning, all their hopes. It was all ending this way, just as Levana had intended from the start.
“What am I doing?” he asked when Torin returned from changing into his own dress clothes.
Unless it was a thaumaturge using a glamour to impersonate Torin …
He slammed shut his eyes.
He hated it here.
Torin sighed and came to stand beside him. Earth was hanging above them—almost full amid the star-filled sky.
“You are stopping a war,” said his adviser, “and obtaining an antidote.”
Kai had used those same arguments so many times they’d begun to lose their meaning. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I’d thought … I’d really thought she stood a chance.”
A hand landed on his shoulder. Comforting as it could be.
“You have not married her yet, Your Majesty. You can still say no.”
A wry laugh escaped him. “With us all trapped here? She would slaughter us.”
Coming here had been a mistake. In the end, his good intentions didn’t matter. He had failed.
A thaumaturge entered, and though he was flanked by two of Kai’s personal guards, everyone in the room knew the guards were merely ornamentation.
“I am to escort you to the grand ballroom,” said the thaumaturge. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
Kai wiped his hands down the front of his silk shirt. Rather than damp and clammy, they were dry. Bone dry and freezing cold. “All right,” he said. “I’m ready.”
Torin stayed at his side as long as he could, following their entourage through the palace’s vast corridors until he was forced to go join the rest of the Commonwealth representatives and guests. It happened in a blur, and though Kai felt as if he were walking with iron shoes on his feet, they reached the ballroom too quickly.
He sucked in a breath, his disbelief interrupt
ed by a jolt of panic.
When they had gone over the rehearsal the day before, it had felt like a joke. Like he was playing a game, and for once, he had the winning hand. But now, as the thaumaturge gestured for him to take his place at the altar set up at the front of the grand ballroom, and he caught sight of the hundreds of exotically dressed Lunars seated before him, it all came crumbling down.
This wasn’t a game at all.
Prime Minister Kamin stood on the dais behind an ornate gold-and-black altar that was crowned with hundreds of small glowing orbs. She caught Kai’s eye as he made his way onto the platform. Her expression was sympathetic. Kai wondered if she realized that Levana intended to conquer her country too, once her grasp was firm around the Commonwealth. Levana planned to conquer them all.
Inhale. Exhale. He turned away without returning Kamin’s almost smile.
The crowd was larger than he’d imagined—easily a thousand people gathered in their evening finest. The contrast between the Earthens’ muted colors and the Lunars’ sparkles and fluorescents was laughable. An aisle stretched down the middle of the ballroom, defined by candelabras topped with more pale orbs, their light flickering like little flames. The aisle runner was black and set with rhinestones in mimicry of the night sky. Or, the always sky, as it was here on Luna.
A hush fell over the room, and Kai could tell it was not a normal hush. It was too controlled, too flawless.
His heart pounded, uncontrolled in its cage. This was the moment he’d been dreading, the fate he’d fought against for so long. No one was going to interfere. He was alone and rooted to the floor.
At the far back of the room, the massive doors opened, chorused with a fanfare of horns. At the end of the aisle, two shadows emerged—a man and a woman in militaristic uniforms carrying the flags of Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth. After they parted, setting the flags into stands on either side of the altar, a series of Lunar guards marched into the room, fully armed and synchronized. They, too, spread out when they reached the altar, like a protective wall around the dais.
Next down the aisle were six thaumaturges dressed in black, walking in pairs, graceful as black swans. They were followed by two in red, and finally Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park, all in white.
Winter Page 33