Winter (62 page)

“You two seem lost,” someone purred.

Thorne spun around, tucking Cress behind him as he did. A man and a woman were standing not far away, eyeing Thorne as if he were on display in a candy shop window. Both of them wore rhinestone-studded suits.

The man dropped a pair of thick-framed glasses to the end of his nose, letting his gaze swoop over Thorne from head to foot and back up. “Maybe we can help you find your way?”

Thorne was quick to draw on his signature grin. “Flattered, ladies,” he purred right back.

Cress frowned, but then, realizing the man must have glamoured himself as a woman, schooled her face into indifference. She couldn’t let on to anyone that she wasn’t affected by mind control.

“We’re on something of a covert mission right now,” Thorne was saying, “but we’ll keep our eye out for you at the coronation.”

“Ooh, a covert mission,” swooned the woman, chewing on her pinkie nail. “I will want to hear
that
story later.”

Thorne winked. “I will want to tell it.” Wrapping an arm around Cress’s shoulders, he led her away from the couple. When they had gone far enough that he was sure they wouldn’t be overheard, Thorne let out a low whistle. “Holy spades. The women in this place.”

Cress bristled. “You mean, the
glamours
in this place. One of them was a man.”

Stumbling, Thorne looked down at her. “You don’t say. Which one?”

“Um … the one wearing glasses?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, scanning the crowd for the couple. “Well played, Lunars,” he murmured, duly impressed. He faced forward again. “Jacin said to take the third hallway, right?” He tugged her toward a curving hall, where floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the front gardens.

“Try to keep in mind that they can make themselves look however they want to,” said Cress. “No one in this palace is as beautiful as you think they are. It’s all just mind control.”

Thorne grinned and squeezed her closer against his side. “I’m fairly certain there’s at least one exception to that rule.”

Cress rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Thaumaturges.”

He laughed and dropped his arm, though she wasn’t sure what was funny.

They passed by a group of young men, and Cress watched, baffled, as they stumbled across the hallway. One of them shoved open a glass door and headed toward the lakeshore and expansive gardens. He nearly tumbled off the staircase that led down to the sprawling lawn.

Shaking her head, Cress faced forward again—and realized she was alone.

Every muscle tensed as she swiveled around, relieved to spot Thorne a few paces away. Not relieved to see he’d been accosted by another girl who was quite pretty even to Cress’s untrickable eyes. She was smiling at Thorne through her long lashes in a way that was both sultry and vicious.

For his part, Thorne just looked surprised.

“I thought I sensed an Earthen boy,” said the girl. Reaching up, she traced the glowing lights on Thorne’s bow tie, then trailed her finger down his chest. “And a well-dressed one at that. What a lucky find.”

Pulse thumping, Cress surveyed the corridor. The crowd was beginning to trickle toward the great hall, but plenty of guests were still fluttering around one another in no apparent hurry. No one was paying them any attention. This woman, too, seemed to have eyes only for Thorne. Cress racked her brain for some way to get him away from her without raising suspicion or drawing attention to herself.

Then the woman wrapped her arms around Thorne’s neck and every thought flew out of Cress’s head. Dumbfounded, Thorne offered no resistance as she pulled him into a kiss.

Seventy-One

Cress’s spine stiffened indignantly, at the same time a group of Lunar women chortled not far away. “Good eye, Luisa,” one of them called, followed by another: “If you spot any more pretty Earthens like that one, send them my way!”

Neither Thorne nor Luisa seemed to hear them. In fact, as Cress watched, aghast, Thorne slid his arms around Luisa’s body and drew her closer.

Cress clenched her fists, her shoulders, her entire body. She was appalled. Then annoyed. Then logic began to creep in and she realized that, while they were probably just toying with Thorne, they would not be so kind to her if they figured out she was immune to their glamours and manipulation.

Shaking with contempt, Cress backed into an alcove behind a pillar. There she waited, arms crossed and red sparks in her vision, as Thorne kissed the girl.

And kissed her.

And
kissed
her.

Cress’s fingernails had left painful crescent moon imprints in her skin by the time they finally pulled apart.

Luisa fluttered her lashes, breathless. “You’ve been wanting that awhile, haven’t you?”

Cress rolled her eyes skyward.

And Thorne said …

Thorne said …

“I think I’m in love with you.”

A nail pierced Cress’s heart, and she gasped, actually
gasped
from the pain of it. Her jaw fell, but she quickly lifted it again. The puncture wound in her chest quickly filled with resentment.

If she had to watch him swoon over anyone else she was going to scream. How was it possible that
she
was the only girl in the galaxy he didn’t try to kiss and woo and flirt with?

Well, he had kissed her that one time on the rooftop, but it had been as a favor to her and hardly counted.

She withdrew farther into the alcove, seething, but also hurt. That was it, then. He never would desire her, not like these other girls who caught his eye. Cress had to accept the fact that their kiss—the most passionate, romantic moment of her life—had been nothing more than a gesture made out of pity.

“Oh, aren’t you just
darling
?” said the woman. “And not a bad kisser, either. Maybe we can enjoy more of each other’s company later?” Without waiting for a response, she patted Thorne on the chest and winked, before swaying away down the hall.

The adoring peanut gallery, too, meandered off, leaving Thorne in the middle of the corridor, stunned. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with what Cress assumed was lust, and his hair was messed where Luisa had clawed her hands into it.

Luisa.
Who he
loved.

Cress squeezed her arms tight over her chest.

After a long, bewildered minute, Thorne shook off the lingering effects of the manipulation and looked around, turning in a full circle. His hand smoothed down his unkempt hair.

“Cress?” he asked, not too loudly at first, but then, with growing worry, “Cress!”

“I’m here.”

He spun toward her and his body sagged with relief. “Spades. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. That was—”

“I don’t want to know.” Pushing herself away from the wall, Cress started down the hallway.

Thorne chased after her. “Whoa, hey, hold on. Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” She swung her hands in a wild gesture. “You have the right to flirt with and kiss and proclaim your love for whoever you want to. Which is good, because you
do.
All the time.”

Thorne kept pace easily beside her, which irritated her even more given that she was already winded from walking so fast.

“So…,” Thorne said, his tone teasing. “You’re jealous?”

Cress bristled. “You do realize that all she wanted was to get a laugh at your expense, right?”

He chuckled, annoyingly good-natured when Cress was so furious. “Yeah, I get that
now.
Cress, wait.” Thorne grabbed her elbow and forced her to stop. “I know they can’t do it to you, but the rest of us can’t
choose
not to be controlled by them. She manipulated me. It wasn’t my fault.”

“And I suppose you’re going to say that you didn’t enjoy it?”

He opened his mouth, but hesitated. “Er. Well…”

Cress ripped her arm away from him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. But that doesn’t excuse
everyone else
. I mean, take Iko!”

“What about Iko?”

She dropped her voice to mimic Thorne. “‘
I really know how to pick them, don’t I?
’”

He chuckled, his eyes glinting at her mockery. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? Her new body is gorgeous.”

Cress fixed one moment’s worth of intensive glaring on him.

“That was clearly not the right thing to say. Sorry. But I’d just gotten my eyesight back.”

“Yeah, and all you wanted to look at was
her.
”

Thorne blinked, and sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes, but Cress stormed away before he could reply. “Never mind. Let’s just—”

“Pardon me.”

A palace guard blocked their path, one arm held out, stopping Cress in her tracks. She gasped and backed into Thorne, who latched on to her elbow. Her mouth ran dry. She’d been so incensed she hadn’t noticed the two guards stationed in the hall.

“We are asking that all guests begin to make their way to the great hall so the coronation ceremony can begin without delay.” The guard nodded in the direction they’d come. “Please proceed this way.”

Cress’s heart was hammering, but Thorne, calm as ever, pulled her away with a casual smile. “Of course, thank you. We must have gotten turned around.”

As soon as they turned a corner, Cress yanked her arm out of Thorne’s hold. He let his hand fall without argument. They were in a hallway that was quieter than the main corridor, though there were still a handful of guests drifting about.

“Stop here,” Thorne said, and she did, letting him back her against a wall. He towered too close to her, and to anyone it would look like they were in some intimate conversation, which only served to make Cress’s anger flare again. She clenched her fists and stared resolutely at his shoulder.

Thorne sighed.

“Cress. I know you’re upset, but could you pretend not to be for a second?”

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not angry. She was not hurt. She was not heartbroken.

When she opened her eyes again, she morphed her expression into what she hoped looked like cheerful flirtation.

Thorne raised an eyebrow. “That’s uncanny.”

Her voice still had a sting to it, though, when she said, “I’m a girl too, you know. I may not be as pretty as Iko, or brave like Cinder or bold like Scarlet—”

“Wait, Cress—”

“And I don’t even want to know what dumb thing you said when you met Princess Winter for the first time.”

Thorne clamped his mouth shut, confirming her suspicion that he had said something dumb indeed.

“But I’m not invisible! And yet you flirt with every
single
one of them. You’ll flirt with anyone who so much as
looks
at you.”

“You’ve made your point.” The teasing glint in his eye was gone, and Cress’s contrived smile had left her too. Though he had one hand near her hip, he was no longer touching her.

“This is what you were trying to tell me, wasn’t it?” Her voice wavered. “In the desert. When you were going on and on about how I’m so
sweet
and how you didn’t want to hurt me and … You were trying to warn me, but I was too much of a … a naïve, hopeless romantic to even listen to you.”

His eyes softened. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She crossed her arms defensively over her chest. Tears were blurring her vision. “I know. It’s my own fault I’ve been this stupid.”

Thorne flinched, but the movement was coupled with a glance around, which prompted Cress to do the same, swiping at her eyes before the tears could gather. The hallway had almost cleared, and the few remaining guests weren’t looking their way.

Reaching around Cress, Thorne pulled open a door that she hadn’t even noticed and within half a blink ushered her inside. She stumbled from the quickness of it, catching herself on a plant stand beside the door. They were surrounded by flowers and greenery of every imaginable color, their perfume thick and steaming in her throat. The ceiling rose several stories high and was made of the same leaded glass as the windows in the main corridor. Sofas and reading chairs were set in small groupings throughout the room and straight ahead they faced a series of desks overlooking the lake beyond.

“Good,” said Thorne. “I thought I remembered seeing something about an atrium. We’ll wait here until the halls clear. I’m hoping we can cross into one of the servant halls and avoid any more run-ins with guards for a while.”

Cress filled her lungs to near bursting and let it all out, but the breath did nothing to refresh her. She stepped into the room, putting much-needed space between her and Thorne.

She was an idiot. He had never once given her any indication that a real relationship could be in their future. He’d given her every chance to get used to this fact. But despite all his attempts to dissuade her from falling in love with him, her heart was still shattered.

What was worse, a kiss from a Lunar, of all things, had shattered it—and Thorne really couldn’t be blamed for that.

“Cress … listen…”

His fingers brushed her wrist, but she jerked away. “Don’t. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She wiped her nose with the flimsy wing material of her ridiculous costume.

Thorne sighed and from the corner of her eye she caught him running a hand through his hair. She could feel his gaze burning into the back of her neck, so she turned away and pretended to inspect an enormous purple blossom.

He knew now, of course. She had given all her feelings away—had probably given them away a long time ago, but he’d been too concerned with
hurting
her to let on that he knew.

She could tell he wanted to talk more. She could feel unspoken words hovering in the air between them, suffocating her. He would apologize. He would tell her how much he cared for her—as a friend. As a member of his crew.

She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not
ever
, but especially not now, when there were more pressing issues to deal with.

“How long are we waiting here?” she asked, and though her voice was tinted with emotion, it had stopped shaking.