Winter (16 page)

Kai pretended to consider his point. “The Rampion I was held hostage aboard had the silhouette of a lady painted on its port side. Is there such a marking on the secretary’s ship?”

The officer relayed the question into a comm-chip on his collar, and a moment later confirmed that no such lady was visible. Only black paneling on the boarding ramp.

“There you have it,” said Kai, attempting nonchalance. “We will accept our American allies on board, assuming their podships are in working order. In fact, why don’t I come down to the dock to greet them, as a show of political goodwill?”

“I’ll come as well,” said Torin, setting his port aside.

The first mate looked like he wanted to object but, after an uncertain moment, clicked his heels together and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

*   *   *

Even the waiting room outside the podship dock was luxurious and Kai found himself tapping his foot on thick carpet while machinery hummed in the surrounding walls. The ship’s captain had joined them, waiting to greet their guests before returning to the bridge, and he and the first mate stood with impeccable posture in their unwrinkled uniforms.

The screen beside the sealed doors announced that the dock was safe to enter.

The captain went first, Kai right behind him. There were six of their own podships waiting, and empty spaces for three more. The Rampion’s shuttle had taken the farthest spot and sat with its engines powering down.

The two doors rose simultaneously and five people emerged—America’s secretary of defense, one assistant, one intern, and two security agents.

The captain shook the secretary’s hand, welcoming the newcomers aboard, followed by a series of diplomatic bows.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused,” said the secretary, as Kai tried to figure out who this was beneath the illusion. He guessed Thorne and Wolf were the security agents, but the glamour being cast for the Republic’s secretary was perfect, straight down to the mole on the right side of her chin. The assistant and intern were equally convincing. It was impossible to distinguish them from Cinder, Iko, and Cress.

“Evidently,” added the assistant, gaze flashing in Kai’s direction, “this all could have been avoided if the ship’s mechanic had remembered to bring a pair of
wire cutters.
”

Kai’s mouth twitched. That one, then, was Cinder. He tried to imagine her beneath the glamour, smug over her use of their new “code word.” He refrained from rolling his eyes at her.

“It’s no inconvenience at all,” said Kai, focusing on the secretary. “We’re glad we could be of assistance. Do you need us to send anyone to retrieve your ship?”

“No, thank you. The Republic has already sent a maintenance crew, but we didn’t want to be delayed longer than necessary. We do have a party to get to, you know.”

The secretary winked, very un-diplomat-like. Iko, then.

Remembering Cinder’s warning—that it would be tiring for her to not only glamour herself but also manipulate the perception of her four comrades, and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to maintain it—Kai gestured toward the exit. “Come with me. We have a sitting room where we’ll all be comfortable. Can I offer you some tea?”

“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks,” said one of the security personnel.

Cinder-the-assistant cast a cold glare at the man.
Thorne.

“We’re fine,” said Cinder. “Thank you.”

“Right this way.” Kai and Torin led their guests away from the docking bay, dismissing the captain and first mate. No one spoke until they’d made their way back to his private rooms.

When Kai faced his guests again, the disguises were gone and the reality of seeing five known criminals in his sitting room reminded him that he’d just put everyone aboard this ship in a great amount of danger.

“Is this room secure?” asked Thorne.

“It should be,” said Kai. “We use it for international conferencing and—”

“Cress?”

“On it, Captain.” Cress pulled a portscreen from her back pocket and went to the control panel built into the wall, running whatever system check she’d devised.

“This is Konn Torin, my head adviser. Torin, you remember Cin—”

“Wait,” said Cinder, holding up a hand.

Kai paused.

Nine long, silent seconds passed between them, before finally Cress unplugged her portscreen. “All clear.”

“Thank you, Cress,” said Thorne.

Cinder lowered her hand. “Now we can talk.”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “Right. Torin, you remember Cinder and Iko.”

Torin nodded at them, his arms crossed, and Cinder returned the nod, laced with an equal amount of tension. “I told you I’d return him safely,” she said.

A flicker of irony passed over Torin’s face. “You promised no harm would come to him. In my opinion, that includes physical injury.”

“It was just one punch, Torin.” Kai shrugged at Cinder. “I tried to explain it was all a part of the charade.”

“I understand perfectly, but forgive me for being defensive.” Torin scrutinized their new guests. “Though I’m grateful Kai has been returned, it seems this ordeal is hardly over. I hope you know what you’re doing, Linh Cinder.”

Kai expected her to make some self-deprecating remark about how Torin wasn’t the only one, but instead, after a long silence, Cinder asked, “How much does he know?”

“Everything,” said Kai.

She turned back to Torin. “In that case, thank you for your help. May I introduce you to the rest of our team: Iko you’ve met, and this is our ship’s captain, Carswell Thorne, our software engineer, Cress Darnel, and my security officer … Wolf.”

As Torin greeted their guests with more respect than was required, given the circumstances, Kai’s attention lingered on Cinder. She stood ten full paces away from him, and as much as Kai wanted to cross the room and kiss her, he couldn’t. Maybe it was Torin’s presence. Maybe it was knowing they were on their way to Luna, where he would be married. Maybe he was afraid their time spent on the Rampion had been a dream, too fragile to survive in reality.

Though he’d seen her three days ago, it felt like a lifetime. A wall had been erected between them during that absence, though he wasn’t sure what had changed. Their relationship was precarious. Kai felt like if he breathed the wrong way, he might destroy everything, and he could see the same uncertainty mirrored in Cinder’s face.

“Oh, look,” said Iko, crossing to the row of windows. Luna was emerging in their view, bright white and pocked with a thousand craters and cliffs. They were close enough to see the biodomes, sunlight glinting off their surfaces.

Kai had never in his life dreamed he would step foot on Luna. Seeing it now, the inevitability of his fate made his stomach squeeze tight.

Cinder turned to Kai. She was doing a good job of hiding her anxiety, but he was learning to recognize it beneath her squared shoulders and determined looks. “I hope you have something for us?”

Kai gestured at a cabinet against the wall.

Iko was the first one there, yanking open the doors with effervescent enthusiasm, but it wilted fast when she saw the clothes Nainsi had gathered. The stack was a mix of browns and grays and dull whites, linens and cottons. Simple, utilitarian clothing.

“That looks right,” said Wolf, who had been the most helpful in describing what the people of Luna’s outer sectors might wear.

While they eyed the clothes and began deciding who got which pieces, Kai crossed to another cabinet and pulled out a sheet of fiberglass android plating and a tub of synthetic skin fibers. “And this is for Iko. Plus everything Cinder should need to install it.”

Iko squealed and launched herself across the room. Kai braced himself for another hug, but instead she was all over the new plating, marveling at the supplies. Cinder wasn’t far behind.

“These are perfect,” said Cinder, examining the fibers. Her eyes glinted teasingly. “You know, if this emperor thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future career in espionage.”

He gave her a wry look. “Let’s make sure this emperor thing works out, all right?”

Cinder’s face softened and she smiled for the first time since they’d boarded. Dropping the fibers back into their tub, she hesitated for a moment, before taking the last few steps toward Kai and wrapping her arms around him.

He shut his eyes. Just like that, the wall was gone. His arms were eager to pull her against him.

“Thank you,” Cinder whispered, and he knew it wasn’t for the clothes or the android parts. The words were weighted with faith and trust and sacrifices Kai wasn’t ready to think about just yet. He squeezed her tighter, pressing his temple against her hair.

Cinder was still smiling when she extricated herself from the embrace, though it was laced with determination. “Time is running out,” she said. “I suggest we go over the plan, one more time.”

Eighteen

Winter let the maid style her hair, pulling the top half into a thick braid threaded with strands of gold and silver and leaving the rest to cascade around her shoulders. She let the maid pick out a pale blue dress that grazed her skin like water and a strand of rhinestones to accent her neck. She let the maid rub scented oils into her skin.

She did not let the maid put any makeup on her—not even to cover the scars. The maid didn’t put up much of a fight. “I suppose you don’t need it, Highness,” she said, bobbing a curtsy.

Winter knew she had a sort of exceptional beauty, but she had never before been given a reason to enhance it. No matter what she did, gazes would follow her down the corridors. No matter what she did, her stepmother would snarl and try to hide her envy.

But since Jacin confessed he was not immune to her appearance, she had been looking forward to this chance to dress up in new finery. Not that she expected much to come from it other than a heady satisfaction. She knew it was naïve to think Jacin might ever do something as crazy as profess his love for her. If he did love her at all. Which she was confident he did, he
must
, after all these years … yet, his treatment of her had had a distant quality since he joined the royal guard. The professional respect he maintained too often made her want to grab his lapels and kiss
him
, just to see how long it would take for him to thaw.

No, she did not expect a confession or a kiss, and she knew all too well a courtship was out of the question. All she wanted was an admiring smile, one breathless look that would sustain her.

As soon as the maid had gone, Winter peeked into the corridor, where Jacin stood at his post.

“Sir Clay, might I solicit your opinion before we go to greet our Earthen guests?”

He waited two full breaths before responding. “At your service, Your Highness.”

He did not, however, remove his attention from the corridor wall.

Smoothing down her skirt, Winter situated herself in front of him. “I wanted to know if you thought I looked sort of pretty today?”

Another breath, this one a bit louder. “Not funny, Princess.”

“Funny? It’s an honest question.” She bunched her lips to one side. “I’m not sure blue is my color.”

With a glower, he finally looked at her. “Are you
trying
to drive me crazy?”

She laughed. “Crazy loves company, Sir Clay. I notice you haven’t answered my question.”

His jaw tightened as he returned his focus to some spot over her head. “Go look for compliments elsewhere, Princess. I’m busy protecting you from unknown threats.”

“And what a fine job you’re doing.” She tried to hide her disappointment as she headed back into her chambers, patting Jacin on the chest as she passed. But with that touch, his hand gathered up a fistful of her skirt, anchoring her beside him. Her heart flipped, and despite all her bravado, Jacin’s piercing gaze made her feel tiny and childish.

“Please stop doing this,” he whispered, more pleading than angry. “Just … leave it alone.”

She gulped, and thought to feign ignorance. But, no—ignorance was what she feigned for everyone else. Not Jacin. Never Jacin. “I hate this,” she whispered back. “I hate having to pretend like I don’t even see you.”

His expression softened. “I know you see me. That’s all that matters. Right?”

She gave a slight nod, though she wasn’t sure she agreed. How lovely it would have been to live in a world where she didn’t have to pretend.

Jacin released her and she slipped into her chambers, shutting the door behind her. She was surprised to find herself light-headed. She must have been holding her breath when he’d stopped her and now—

She froze a few steps into the sitting room. Her gut tightened, her nostrils filling with the iron tang of blood.

It was all around her. On the walls. Dripping from the chandelier. Soaking into the upholstered cushions of the settee.

A whimper escaped her.

It had been weeks since she had one of the visions. None had haunted her since Jacin’s return. She’d forgotten the overwhelming dread, the swoop of horror in her stomach.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“J-Jacin?” Something warm splattered on her shoulder, no doubt staining the beautiful blue silk. She took a step back and felt the area rug squish wetly beneath her feet. “Jacin!”

He burst through the door, and though she kept her eyes pressed tight, she could imagine him behind her, weapon drawn.

“Princess—what is it?” He grabbed her elbow. “Princess?”

“The walls,” she whispered.

A beat, followed by a low curse. She heard his gun being replaced in its holster, then he was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. His voice dropped, becoming tender. “Tell me.”

She tried to swallow, but her saliva was thick and metallic. “The walls are bleeding. The chandelier too, and it got on my shoulder, and I think it’s staining my shoes, and I can smell it, and taste it, and why—” Her voice unraveled all at once. “Why does the palace hurt so much, Jacin? Why is it always dying?”

He pulled her against him, cradling her body. His arms were stable and protective and he was not bloody and he was not broken. She sank into the embrace, too dazed to return it, but willing to accept the comfort. She buried herself in the security of him.