Winter (81 page)

Jacin himself was nervous to be reunited with his family. After years of pushing everyone he loved away, it was difficult to imagine a life in which he was free to care for people without fear of them becoming pawns to be used against him.

He knew they would love to see Winter again too, who had been like a part of their family growing up. But … not like this. Seeing her like this would break their hearts.

Seeing her like this …

Winter whimpered, a pathetic sound like that of a dying animal. Jacin jumped to his feet and settled a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. She whipped her head back and forth a few times, her eyes jerking beneath her closed lids, but she didn’t wake up. When she had settled down again, Jacin breathed a heavy sigh.

He wanted her to be better. He wanted this to be over. He wanted her to open her eyes and not thrash or bite or howl. He wanted her to look at him with recognition and happiness and that hint of mischief that had captured his heart long before she’d been the most beautiful girl on Luna.

He pulled a coiled spring of hair away from her lips, brushing it back off her face.

“I love you, Princess,” he whispered, hovering over her for a long time, tracing the planes of her face and the curve of her lips and remembering how she had kissed him in the menagerie. She’d told him then that she loved him, and he hadn’t been brave enough to say it back.

But now …

He placed one hand on the other side of her body, leaning into it for balance. His heart was racing, and he felt like an idiot. If anyone saw him, they’d think he was one of Winter’s creepy admirers.

It would change nothing—every bit of logic told him so. A stupid, idealistic kiss could not put her mind back together.

But he had nothing to lose.

Winter went on sleeping, her chest rising. Falling.

Rising and falling and rising.

Jacin realized he was stalling. Building up hope, but also erecting a wall around himself for when nothing happened. Because nothing would happen.

He leaned over her, leaving a hint of space between them, and dug his fingers into the thin hospital blankets. “I love you, Winter. I always have.”

He kissed her. One-sided as it was, it had little of the passion there’d been in the menagerie, but so much more hope. And a whole lot of foolishness.

Pulling away, he swallowed hard and dared to open his eyes.

Winter was staring at him.

Jacin snapped backward. “Dammit, Winter. You … how long…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Were you just pretending to be asleep?”

Winter stared up at him, a dreamy half smile on her lips.

Jacin’s pulse skittered at that look, his attention dipping back to her lips.
Was it possible—?

“Win—Princess?”

“Hello,” she said, her voice parched, but no less sweet than usual. “Do you see the snow?”

His brow twitched. “Snow?”

Winter peered up at the ceiling. Though her wrists were bound tight, she opened up a palm, like trying to catch something. “It is more beautiful than I’d ever imagined,” she whispered. “I am the girl of ice and snow, and I think I’m very glad to meet you.”

Disappointment tried to burrow into Jacin’s chest, but the walls he’d thrown up did their job, and it was repelled as quickly as it came.

At least she wasn’t trying to bite him.

“Hello, snow girl,” he said, folding her fingers around an imaginary snowflake. “I’m glad to meet you too.”

Ninety-Four

Still weak-legged, Cinder held on to Kai’s arm as he guided her through Artemisia Palace for the first time since the insurrection. All around her, enormous windows and tiled walls glittered in the sunlight. It was so beautiful. She was having trouble believing it was hers.

Her palace, her kingdom, her
home.

She wondered how long it would take before it felt real.

Iko had chosen her dress, a simple gown taken from Winter’s wardrobe, and done her hair in some fancy updo. Cinder was afraid to move her head for fear it would all come tumbling down. She knew she was supposed to feel regal and powerful, but instead she felt like a feeble girl playing dress-up.

She drew strength from Kai’s presence on one side and Iko on the other, even though Iko wouldn’t stop reaching up and mucking with her hair. Cinder batted her away again.

At least Iko’s arm was working again. Dr. Nandez had managed to return most of her body’s functionality, but there was still a lot of damage to be repaired.

As they turned a corner, she spotted her new personal guard, Liam Kinney, along with Kai’s adviser, Konn Torin. Beside them were Adri and Pearl.

Cinder hesitated, her pulse speeding up.

“Cinder.”

She met Kai’s gaze, his encouraging smile, and felt her heart tumbling for another reason entirely.

“I know this is weird,” he said, “but I’m here if you need me. You won’t need me, though. You’re going to be great.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, fighting the urge to embrace him, to crawl into his arms and hide from the rest of the galaxy. Maybe forever.

“Also”—his voice lowered—“you look beautiful.”

It was Iko who responded, “Thank you for noticing.”

Kai laughed, while Cinder, her thoughts fluttering in all different directions, ducked her head.

Cinder limped along, making a point not to look at her stepfamily. When she was close enough, Konn Torin bowed to her. Diplomatic respect, Cinder thought, remembering all the many glares she’d received from this man since she’d first seen him at the annual ball. But when he raised his head, he was smiling. In fact, he seemed downright friendly.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “On behalf of the people of the Eastern Commonwealth, I want to thank you for all you’ve done, and all you will do.”

“Oh, um. Yeah. Anytime.” With a difficult swallow, she dared to look at Adri.

Her stepmother’s face had a gauntness about it. Her number of gray hairs had tripled these past weeks.

There was a moment in which Cinder thought of a thousand things she could say to this woman, but none of them seemed important anymore.

Adri’s gaze dropped to the floor. She and Pearl both lowered into uncomfortable curtsies.

“Your Majesty,” said Adri, sounding like she was chewing on a bitter lemon. Beside her, Pearl also mumbled, almost unintelligibly, “Your Majesty.”

Iko snorted—a derisive sound that Cinder hadn’t even thought escorts were capable of making.

Staring at the tops of Pearl’s and Adri’s heads, she attempted to come up with a gracious response—something Kai would have said. Things a good queen would have done to ease the tension. To offer forgiveness.

Instead, she turned away.

Kinney fisted a hand against his chest and Cinder gave him what she hoped was a regal nod, before Kai led her through a pair of double doors. She had asked him to find a neutral place to host this meeting—not the throne room that had seen so much blood, or the queen’s solar, or wherever Levana would have conducted such a thing. She entered into a conference room with an enormous marble table and two holograph nodes, turned off.

The room was already full. She gulped, the uncanny silence nearly pushing her back into the hallway. She recognized most of them, but her brain interface wasted no time in pulling up their profiles from the net database anyway.

President Vargas of the American Republic.

Prime Minister Kamin of the African Union.

Queen Camilla of the United Kingdom.

Governor-General Williams of Australia.

Prime Minister Bromstad of the European Federation.

Dr. Nandez—the acclaimed cybernetic surgeon, and Nainsi, the android that Cinder had fixed for Kai a long time ago. She had been brought to Luna to record this occasion for Earth’s official records.

Adri and Pearl were escorted around the table.

Which left only Iko, Kai, Konn Torin, and Cinder herself—or, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Selene Channary Jannali Blackburn of Luna. She wondered if it was all right for her to ask that everyone just call her Cinder.

Before she could speak, the world’s leaders rose to their feet and started to applaud. Cinder recoiled.

One by one, they went around the room, bowing and curtsying in turn.

Suddenly panicked, Cinder looked at Kai. He gave her a one-shouldered shrug, suggesting that, yeah, it’s weird, but you get used to it.

When the circle came around to him, he too pressed one hand to his chest and inclined his head, the best bow he could give while still supporting her with one arm.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, wondering if she should curtsy, but she couldn’t perform a graceful curtsy on her best of days, and it would be disastrous with all her injuries. Instead she held her cyborg hand out to them. “Um, please, be seated?”

The clapping had faded, but no one sat.

Kai led Cinder to the head of the table and eased her into a seat. Only then did the others follow, Kai taking the seat to Cinder’s right. Adri and Pearl were sandwiched between Konn Torin and President Vargas. They looked supremely uncomfortable.

“Um. Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Cinder began. She tried folding her hands on top of the table, but that felt strange, so she instead curled them in her lap. “I’m sure you’re all eager to return home.”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” said Queen Camilla, not looking at all sorry, “but might I take this moment to say
congratulations
on the reclamation of your throne.”

Another fit of clapping started at the queen’s words, and Cinder had the impression they weren’t so much congratulating her on becoming a queen as they were congratulating themselves on no longer having to deal with Levana.

“Thanks. Thank you. I hope you’ll understand that I … um. I hope you’ll be patient with me. This is all new for me and I’m not…”

I’m not really a queen.

She glanced around the table, at the eager, hopeful faces staring at her like she was some sort of hero. Like she had done something great. Her gaze swept around the table, feeling more nervous and inadequate with every person she crossed—older, wiser, experienced—until Kai.

As soon as he had her attention, he winked.

Her stomach flipped.

She turned away and squared her shoulders.

“I asked you here today because the relationship between Earth and Luna has been strained for a long time, and my first act as…” She hesitated and moved her hands to the top of the table again, lacing her fingers together. A few gazes dropped to her cyborg prosthetic, but all tried to pretend they hadn’t noticed. “As my first act as queen of Luna, I want to forge a peaceful alliance with the Earthen Union. Even if it’s only symbolic at first, I hope it will be the start of a fruitful and mutually beneficial … political … um…” She glanced at Kai.

“Relationship?” he suggested.

“Relationship.” She straightened her spine, hoping she didn’t sound as stupid as she felt. Around her, though, the diplomats were nodding, all respect and agreement. “I’m aware that a peaceful alliance will begin with all Lunar military units being removed from Earthen soil, and I will try to ensure that the transition is completed as quickly as possible.”

A breath of relief washed over those gathered.

“In fact,” Cinder continued, “my understanding is that, under Kai—Emperor Kai—Kaito?” She raised her eyebrows at him, realizing this was the first time she’d ever been expected to be formal in his presence.

In response, Kai looked like he wanted to laugh. She glared at him.

“Under Emperor Kaito’s instruction,” she continued, “some of those military units are already en route back to Luna.”

A round of nods. They had heard this already.

She swallowed, hard. Her wounds were starting to itch on top of the constant, drug-dulled aching. She hoped that her first act as queen wouldn’t be passing out.

“Luna will also continue to produce and distribute the letumosis antidote as it’s necessary and our resources allow. As you know, the antidote was being obtained from ungifted Lunars who had been forced into a permanent comatose state in order to have their blood extracted, which is a violation of their rights. I’m told it might be possible to manufacture lab-grown blood platelets to mimic those of the shell—um, ungifted Lunars, and I hope to redirect Luna’s research efforts in that direction, and find a solution that will be fair to everyone. Of course, all samples of the antidote that we already have in stock will be dispersed to Earth immediately.”

Nodding. Smiles. Relief and gratitude.

Cinder braced herself. “That said, I do have a few … requests to make of you.”

As the air of victory around the table gave way to masked patience, and a hint of tension, Cinder tucked a strand of fallen hair behind her ear.

“I want to make clear that these requests are just that—requests. Your answer won’t change my mind about any of the promises I’ve made. This isn’t a negotiation.” She pulled herself closer to the table.

“First.” She tried to hold eye contact with those around her, but found it impossible, her gaze sinking down to her hands while she spoke. “For years, cyborgs have been treated as secondary citizens…” She cleared her throat, feeling Kai’s presence, burning, beside her. “I experienced it firsthand growing up in the Commonwealth. Underage cyborgs are seen more as property than people, with hardly any more rights than androids. There’s a prejudice surrounding us, that because we’ve been given unnatural abilities—
man-made
abilities—we’re a danger to society. But it isn’t true. We just want acceptance, like anybody else. And so, my request is that all laws regarding cyborgs be reexamined, and we be given the same equality and basic rights as everybody else.”

Daring to look up, she saw more than one flushed face, and no one daring to make eye contact with her. The new cyborg queen of Luna.

Except Kai, who looked ashamed to be included with the others. But despite his decision to stop the cyborg draft for letumosis testing, the Commonwealth continued to have many of the same injustices as the rest of the planet.

Kai was the first to nod. “The Commonwealth agrees to your request. These laws are unfair and antiquated.”