Cinder (22 page)

Cinder stiffened. “Has there been any progress?”

“I guess you could say that.” He peered up at her but couldn’t hold the gaze long. Soon he was staring past her, at all the abandoned parts. “I know this is stupid, but part of me felt like if I could come see you today, if I could convince you to go with me tonight, then maybe I could still change things. It’s dumb, I know. It’s not like Levana cares if I, you know, might have actual feelings for someone.” He craned his head again, tossing the screw back onto its pile.

Cinder’s entire body tingled at his words, but she gulped, forcing the giddiness away. She reminded herself that this was the last time she would ever see him.

“You mean you’re…” The words dried out. She dropped her voice. “But what about Nainsi? About the things she…the things she knew?”

Kai stuffed his hands into his pockets, the troubled look vanishing. “It’s too late. Even if I could find
her.
It couldn’t happen today, or even before…. And then there’s the antidote, and I…I just can’t wait on that. Too many people are dying.”

“Has Dr. Erland learned anything?”

Kai nodded, slowly. “He’s confirmed it as a real antidote, but he says they can’t duplicate it.”

“What? Why?”

“I guess one of the ingredients is only found on the moon. Ironic, huh? And then there was the boy who recovered last week, and Dr. Erland’s been running tests on him for days, but he’s being very secretive about it. He says I shouldn’t get my hopes up that the boy’s recovery could lead to any new discoveries. He hasn’t said it outright, but…I’m getting the impression that the doctor is losing hope of finding an antidote anytime soon. An antidote other than Levana’s, at least. It could be years before we make anymore headway, and by that time…” He hesitated, eyes haunted. “I just don’t know that I could watch so many people die.”

Cinder lowered her gaze. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

Kai pushed himself back from the table, standing again. “Were you still thinking about heading to Europe?”

“Oh, yes, actually. I kind of was.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Do you want to come with?”

He conceded a short laugh and pushed his hair back from his face. “Yes. Are you kidding? I think that’s the best offer I’ve ever had.”

She smiled up at him, but it was short-lived. A single blissful moment of pretend.

“I need to get back,” he said, peering down at the thin gold-covered box. Cinder had nearly forgotten about it. He nudged it across the table, pushing a neat row of screws along with it.

“No. I can’t—”

“Sure you can.” He shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable, which was an oddly charming look on him. “I’d thought for the ball, but…well, whenever you have the chance, I guess.”

Curiosity boiled inside her, but she forced herself to push the box back toward him. “No, please.”

He laid his hand firmly over hers—she could feel his heat even through the thick glove. “Take it,” he said, and flashed his signature prince-charming grin, as if he were completely unfazed. “And think of me.”

“Cinder, here, take these.”

Cinder jumped at Pearl’s voice and wrenched her hand out from Kai’s grip. Pearl swiped an arm across her work desk, sending bits and screws clattering to the pavement, then slammed a stack of papered boxes down in their place.

“Put them somewhere near the back, where they won’t get stolen,” said Pearl, gesturing airily toward the back of the booth. “Somewhere
clean
if such a place exists.”

Heart thumping, Cinder reached for the boxes and pulled them toward her. Her thoughts raced down to her empty ankle, how she would have to limp to the back of the booth, how there would be no way to hide her deformity.

“What, no please or thank you?” said Kai.

Cinder flinched, wishing Kai had already gone before Pearl ruined the last moments she would ever see him.

Pearl bristled. She tossed her long hair over one shoulder as she turned toward the prince, eyes darkening. “Who are you to—” The words disappeared, leaving her lips puckered in surprise.

Kai pocketed his hands and eyed her with barely veiled disdain.

Cinder wrung her fingers into the twine that tied Pearl’s boxes. “Your Highness, please meet my stepsister, Linh Pearl.”

Pearl’s lips parted, jaw dropping as the prince gave her a curt bow. “A pleasure,” he said, his tone too sharp.

Cinder cleared her throat. “Thank you again for your generous payment, Your Highness. And, uh, best of luck at your coronation.”

Kai’s gaze softened as he peeled it away from Pearl. A hint of a shared conspiracy touched the corners of his lips, something too suggestive to go unnoticed by Pearl. He dipped his head to her. “I guess this is good-bye then. My request still stands, by the way, if you change your mind.”

To Cinder’s relief, he didn’t elaborate, just turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Pearl followed him with her eyes. Cinder wanted to as well, but she forced herself to look at the stack of shopping boxes. “Yes, of course,” she said, as if the prince’s interruption hadn’t happened. “I’ll just put these on the shelf back here.”

Pearl slammed her hand down on top of Cinder’s, halting her. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving. “That was the prince.”

Cinder feigned indifference. “I fixed one of the royal androids last week. He was just coming to pay me.”

A crease formed between Pearl’s eyebrows. Her lips tightened. Her suspicious gaze fell down to the thin gold box that Kai had left behind. Without hesitation, she snatched it up.

Cinder gasped and swiped for the box, but Pearl danced out of reach. Cinder had her knee up on the table, prepared to lunge over it, when she realized what a catastrophe that would be. Pulse racing, she froze and watched as Pearl tore the bow and let it drop to the dusty ground, then shredded the gold paper. The box beneath was simple and white, unmarked. She lifted the lid.

Cinder tilted her head up, trying to peer inside as Pearl gawked down at the gift. She could see crinkles of tissue paper and something white and silky. She analyzed Pearl’s face, trying to judge her reaction, but could only pinpoint confusion.

“Is this a
joke
?”

Saying nothing, Cinder slowly backed up, lowering her knee off the table.

Pearl tilted the box so Cinder could see. Inside was the finest pair of gloves she could have imagined. Pure silk and shining silver-white. They were tall enough to cover her elbows, and a row of seed pearls along the hems added the simplest touch of elegance. They were gloves fit for a princess.

It did seem like a joke.

A sharp laugh exploded from Pearl. “He doesn’t know, does he? He doesn’t know about your—about
you.
” She clutched the gloves, ripping them from their tissue bed, and let the box tumble into the street. “What did you think was going to happen?” She waved the gloves at Cinder, the empty fingers wagging helplessly. “Did you think the prince might actually
like
you? Did you think you might go to the ball and dance with him in your pretty new gloves and your—” She scanned Cinder’s clothes, the filthy cargo pants, the stained T-shirt, the tool belt strapped around her waist, and laughed again.

“Of course not,” said Cinder. “I’m not going to the ball.”

“Then what use does a cyborg have of
these
?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t—He just—”

“Maybe you thought it wouldn’t matter,” said Pearl, clicking her tongue. “Is that it? Did you think the prince—no—the
emperor
would find it in his heart to overlook all your…”—she twirled her hand—“shortcomings?”

Cinder squeezed her fists, trying to ignore the sting of the words. “He’s just a customer.”

The mocking light died in Pearl’s eyes. “No. He’s the prince. And if he knew the truth about you, he wouldn’t have given you a passing glance.”

Resentment flared in Cinder’s chest. She leveled Pearl with her own glare. “Which is about as much as he gave you, right?” She wished she’d held her tongue the moment the words were out, but the outrage that flushed over Pearl’s face was almost worth it.

Until Pearl threw the gloves to the ground, then grasped the toolbox atop the table and heaved it over on top of them. Cinder cried out at the crash that followed, nuts and bolts skittering halfway across the road. The crowd stopped to stare at them, at the mess.

Pearl angled her nose toward Cinder. Her lips barely creased. “You’d better get that cleaned up before the festival closes. I’ll require your help tonight. After all, I have a royal ball to attend.”

Cinder’s wires were still humming as Pearl grabbed her shopping boxes and marched away, but she wasted no time in hopping over the desk and crouching down beside the toppled toolbox. She turned the box right-side up but ignored the loose parts, reaching instead for the gloves at the bottom of the pile.

They were caked with dirt and dust, but it was the bits of smeared grease that made her heart sink. Cinder draped them over her knee and tried to smooth the wrinkles from the silk, only smearing the oil. They were beautiful. The most beautiful things she’d ever owned.

But if there was one thing she knew from years as a mechanic, it was that some stains never came out.

IT WAS A LONG WALK HOME. ADRI AND PEARL HAD LEFT THE
market without her, anxious to get ready for the ball, which had been a relief to Cinder at first, but after the first mile of walking with her makeshift crutches digging into her under-arms and messenger bag banging against her hip, she was cursing her stepmother with each limping step.

Not that Cinder was in any big hurry to get home. She couldn’t imagine what preparations she could assist Pearl with, but she didn’t doubt they would be designed to torture her. One more evening of servitude. One more evening.

The words propelled her on.

When she finally reached the apartment, she found the hallways eerily quiet. Everyone was either down at the festival or getting ready for the ball. The shouts that could normally be heard behind closed doors had been swapped for girlish laughter.

Cinder tucked the crutches beneath her sore arms and used the wall to guide her to the door.

The apartment seemed empty as she entered it, but she could hear the floors creaking as Adri and Pearl moved around their bedrooms toward the back. Hoping she might be able to make it through the whole evening without seeing either of them, Cinder hobbled to her small room and closed the door behind her. She had just thought to start packing in earnest when someone knocked at the door.

Sighing, she opened it. Pearl was in the hallway, wearing her golden gown, all silk and seeded pearls and a neckline that plunged just how Adri had requested.

“Could you have come home any slower?” she said. “We’ll be leaving as soon as the coronation is over.”

“Well, I’m sure I could have come home faster, except someone stole my foot.”

Pearl glared briefly, then stepped back into the hallway and did a half spin, letting the skirt billow around her ankles. “What do you think, Cinder? Will the prince notice me in this?”

Cinder barely restrained the urge to slime her own filthy hands over the dress. Instead, she peeled off her work gloves and tucked them into her back pocket. “Is there something you needed?”

“Yes, actually. I wanted to ask your opinion.” Pearl hitched up her skirt to reveal mismatched shoes on her tiny feet. On her left foot was a small velvet boot the color of fresh milk that laced up her ankle. On her right foot was a gold sandal tied with sparkling ribbons and tiny heart-shaped charms. “Given that you’re so close to the prince, I thought I would ask if you think he would prefer the gold slippers or the white?”

Cinder pretended to think. “The boots make your ankles look fat.”

Pearl smirked. “The metal plating makes
your
ankle look fat. You’re just jealous because I have such lovely feet.” She sighed in mock sympathy. “What a shame you’ll never know the pleasure.”

“I’m just glad you found at least
one
body part that’s lovely.”

Pearl tossed her hair, a smug grin on her face. She knew that Cinder’s jest had no grounding, and Cinder was irritated when the low insult brought her no pleasure.

“I’ve been rehearsing my conversation with Prince Kai,” said Pearl. “Of course, I intend to tell him
everything
.” She swayed so her skirt caught the light. “First, I’m going to tell him all about your ugly metal extremities and how much of an embarrassment you are—what a disgusting creature they turned you into. And I’m going to make sure he also realizes how much more desirable
I
am.”

Cinder leaned against the door frame. “I wish I would have known about this little crush of yours earlier, Pearl. You know, before she passed away, I was able to obtain a promise from His Highness that he would dance with Peony tonight. I could have asked the same for you, but I guess it’s too late for that now. Shame.”

Pearl’s face flushed. “You shouldn’t even say her name,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.

Cinder blinked. “Peony?”

The anger in Pearl’s eyes grew intense, overtaking the childish taunts. “I know you killed her. Everyone knows it was your fault.”

Cinder gaped at her, unbalanced by the sudden switch from the immature boasts. “That’s not true. I never got sick.”

“It’s your fault she was at the junkyard. That’s where she caught it.”

Cinder opened her mouth, but her jaw just hung.

“If it wasn’t for you, she would be going to the ball tonight, so don’t try to pretend like you would have done her any favors. The best thing you could have done for Peony would have been to leave her alone. Then maybe she’d still be here.” Tears were pooling in Pearl’s eyes. “And you try to pretend like you cared about her, like she was
your
sister, and that’s not fair. She was sick and you were…meeting the prince, trying to catch his attention, when you know how she felt about him. It’s sick.”

Cinder folded her arms, protecting herself. “I know you don’t believe this, but I really did love Peony. I do love her.”

Pearl sniffed once, loudly, as if to stop the crying before it could overtake her. “You’re right. I don’t believe you. You’re a liar and a thief, and you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” She paused. “And I’m going to make sure the prince knows it.”

The door to Adri’s bedroom opened, and she stepped out wearing a white and magenta kimono embroidered with elegant cranes. “What are you two bickering about now? Pearl, are you ready to go?” She eyed Pearl with a shrewd eye, trying to determine if anything still needed work.

“I can’t believe you’re going,” said Cinder. “What will people think, when you’re still in mourning?” She knew it was a button she shouldn’t push, an unfair comment when she’d heard them both crying through the thin walls, but she was not in a mood to be fair. Even if she’d had a choice, she wouldn’t have gone. Not without Peony.

Adri fixed a cold glare on her, lips pulled taut. “The coronation is starting,” she said. “Go wash the hover. I want it to look brand new.”

Glad she wouldn’t be forced to sit through the coronation with them, Cinder made no argument as she grabbed her crutches and headed back for the door.

One more evening.

She turned on her netlink as soon as she reached the elevator, delegating the coronation proceedings to a corner of her vision. It was still the pre-ceremony. A parade of government officials was marching into the palace, swarmed by a sea of journalists and cameras.

She picked up a bucket and soap in the storage room before hobbling toward the parking garage, half listening as the newscaster explained the symbolism behind different elements of the coronation. The embroidery on Kai’s robe, the designs in the crests that would be raised when he took his vows, the number of times the gong would be struck when he ascended to the dais, all practices that had been around for centuries, cobbled together from the many cultures that had come together to form the Commonwealth.

The news continuously switched between the festival in the city center to the occasional shot of Kai during his preparations. Only these latter bits snagged Cinder’s attention away from the bucket of sudsy water. She couldn’t help imagining she was in the palace with him, rather than this dim, cool garage. Kai shaking hands with some unknown delegate. Kai greeting the crowd. Kai trying to steal a private conversation with his adviser. Kai turning toward her, smiling at her, glad she was by his side.

The momentary glimpses of him made Cinder’s heart feel soothed, rather than injured. It was a reminder that much bigger things were happening in the world, and Cinder’s yearning for freedom and Pearl’s taunts and Adri’s whims and even Kai’s flirting with her did not fit into that bigger picture.

The Eastern Commonwealth was crowning its new emperor. Today, the whole world was watching.

Kai’s clothing blended old and new traditions. Turtledoves embroidered across his mandarin collar signified peace and love. Draped over his shoulders was a midnight-blue cloak embroidered with six silver stars, signifying the peace and unity of the six Earthen kingdoms, and a dozen chrysanthemums, signifying the twelve provinces of the Commonwealth and how they would flourish under his reign.

A royal adviser stood beside Kai on the platform. The first rows of the crowd were made up of government officials from every branch and province. But Cinder’s eyes were always drawn back to Kai, magnetically latching onto him again and again.

Then a small entourage came down one of the aisles, the last to take their seats—Queen Levana, along with two thaumaturges. The queen was wearing a delicate white veil that draped to her elbows, hiding her face and making her look more like a phantom than a royal guest.

Cinder shivered. She didn’t think any Lunars had ever been present at a Commonwealth coronation. Rather than making her feel hopeful for the future, the sight filled Cinder with a lump of anxiety. Because Levana’s haughty stance suggested that she belonged there more than any of the Earthen citizens. As if
she
were the one about to be coronated.

The queen and her entourage claimed their reserved seats in the first row. Those seated around them tried, unsuccessfully, to hide their distaste at being so close to her.

Cinder pulled the sopping rag from the bucket and put her apprehension to work, scrubbing Adri’s hover to a fine gleam.

The coronation began with a thunder of drums.

Prince Kai kneeled on a silk-covered platform as a slow parade of men and women passed before him, each dropping a ribbon or medallion or jewel around his neck. Each was a symbolic gift—long life, wisdom, goodness of heart, generosity, patience, joy. When all of the necklaces had been placed on him, the camera zoomed in on Kai’s face. He appeared surprisingly serene, his eyes lowered but his head held high.

As was customary, a representative from one of the other five Earthen kingdoms had been selected to officiate the coronation in order to show that the other countries would honor and respect the new sovereign’s right to govern. They had selected the European Federation’s Prime Minister Bromstad, a tall, blond man with broad shoulders. Cinder had always thought that he looked more like a farmer than a politician. He held out an old-fashioned paper scroll that contained all the promises Kai was making to his people when he accepted the role of emperor.

As both of the prime minister’s hands gripped either end of the scroll, he spoke a series of vows, and Kai repeated after him.

“I solemnly swear to govern the peoples of the Eastern Commonwealth according to the laws and customs as laid down by generations of past rulers,” he recited. “I will use all the power bestowed on me to further justice, to be merciful, to honor the inherent rights of all peoples, to respect the peace between all nations, to rule with kindness and patience, and to seek the wisdom and council of my peers and brethren. All this, I promise to do today and for all the days of my reign, before all the witnesses of the Earth and heavens.”

Cinder’s heart swelled as she scrubbed the hood. She had never seen Kai look so serious, or so handsome. She feared for him a bit, knowing how nervous he must be, but in that moment he was not the prince who had brought a broken android to the market or almost kissed her in an elevator.

He was her emperor.

Prime Minister Bromstad lifted his chin. “I hereby proclaim you Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth. Long live His Imperial Majesty.”

The crowd burst into cheers and animated chants of
“Long live the Emperor”
as Kai turned to face his people.

If he were happy at his raised position, it was impossible to tell. His lips were neutral, his gaze reserved as he stood on the dais and the applause of the crowd surged around him.

After a long moment of his own serenity clashing with the tornado of praise, a podium was brought to the stage for the emperor’s first address. The crowd quieted.

Cinder dashed water over the vehicle.

Kai stood expressionless for a moment, staring at the edge of the platform, his fingers gripping the podium’s sides. “I am honored,” he began, “that my coronation coincides with our most revered holiday. 126 years ago, the nightmare and catastrophe that was the Fourth World War ended, and the Eastern Commonwealth was born. It grew out of the unification of many peoples, many cultures, many ideals. It was strengthened by a single enduring belief that together, we as one people are strong. We have the ability to love each other, no matter our differences. To help each other, no matter our weaknesses. We chose peace over war. Life over death. We chose to crown one man to be our sovereign, to guide us, to uphold us—not to rule, but to serve.” He paused.

Cinder pulled her focus away from the retina display long enough to give the hover a quick inspection. It was too dark to tell if she’d done a decent job, but she had lost interest in perfection.

Content, she dropped the wet rag into the bucket and sank against the concrete wall behind the row of parked hovers, giving the tiny screen her full attention.

“I am the great-great-great-grandson of the first emperor of the Commonwealth,” Kai continued. “Since his time, our world has changed. We continue to face new problems, new heartaches. Though a war between men has not been fought on Earthen soil in 126 years, we now fight a new battle. My father was fighting a war against letumosis, the pestilence that has ravaged our planet for over a dozen years. This disease has brought death and suffering to our doorstep. The good people of the Commonwealth, and all our Earthen siblings, have lost friends, family, loved ones, neighbors. And with these losses, we face loss of trade and commerce, a downturn of economy, worsened living conditions. Some have gone without food because there are not enough farmers to toil the land. Some have gone without heat as our energy supplies dwindle. This is the war we now face. This is the war my father was determined to end, and I now vow to take up that torch.

“Together we will find a cure for this disease. We will defeat it. And we will return our great country to its former splendor.”

The audience applauded, but Kai showed no sign of joy at his words. His expression was resigned, dark.