Winter (85 page)

Winter winked at her. “Well done, Cinder-friend. You didn’t trip. The hard part is over.”

Kai gave a smile meant for only Cinder, even though the entire universe was watching. “She’s right, that really is the hard part.”

“Thank the stars,” Cinder whispered back. “Now let’s get this over with.”

Taking in a long, shaky breath, she turned to face her kingdom.

*   *   *

The blood had been scrubbed from the throne room floor, but the room was still a disaster. Toppled chairs and broken rails, cracked tiles and wall panels where bullets had hit them. Even the throne itself had a fracture in the stone from when Cinder had tried to shoot Levana. It smelled of chemicals and bleach from the cleaning.

The horrors of the rebellion were starting to fade. Not, perhaps, for those who had lost friends and family, and Cinder knew there was still so much to be done in order for Luna to pick up the pieces of Levana’s rule. But they were eager to start picking up those pieces right away.

She’d begun compiling councils made up of both members from the Artemisian court and nominated citizens from the outer sectors to begin bridging the gap between the classes and figuring out how best to reallocate funds and labor. Already the “families” and the thaumaturges were starting to fight against her, but that was all right. It would take time, but they would adjust.

She’d been sitting on her throne in the silent, chemical-filled air for what could have been hours, watching the city of Artemisia shimmering before her and Earth turning above the horizon.

The doors opened. Kai poked his head in and Cinder tensed, feeling guilty to be caught on the throne—even if it was
her
throne—all alone in the darkness.

“There you are,” he said.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m kind of hiding. Would you believe that when you’re royalty, it is
really
difficult to find a moment of privacy?”

Smirking, Kai shut the door behind him. He kept a hand behind his back as he came toward her. “Might I suggest getting yourself a hooded sweatshirt? It makes a surprisingly adequate disguise.” He paused when he spotted Earth over the balcony, all beautiful and enormous in the dark sky. “That’s quite a view.”

Cinder nodded. “Not to justify what Levana did, but I can kind of understand why she wanted it so much.”

When Kai said nothing, she slid her gaze back to him and she knew what he’d come there to say. Her heart sank. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

He turned away from the view. “In two days. Two
Earthen
days.” He frowned apologetically. “I’ve been gone for too long already.”

She tried to smother the despair that knocked into her. Kai would be gone. Thorne, Cress, Wolf, and Scarlet had already left, and Winter and Jacin would be leaving on their first ambassadorial trip in the next few days, and then she would be alone.

Well, she and Iko would be alone.

She’d been expecting it. She had known he couldn’t stay forever. He had his own country to rule.

“Right,” she said, feigning confidence. “I understand. You’ve been a huge help, you and Konn-dàren. Is … is he leaving too?”

Kai grimaced. “He is. I’m sorry.”

“No. You … you have to go home. Of course you do.”

“You should come visit,” he said, speaking fast. “Soon. It would be symbolic, I think, of the new alliance…” He trailed off and scratched behind his neck, one hand still hidden. “Or I could make up a political dilemma we need to work through if that would help.”

Cinder forced a smile. “I’d like to come visit. I’m … Iko and I are going to miss you.”

“I think you’ll find that being a queen doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for being lonely.”

“We’ll see about that.” Suddenly, it felt awkward to be sitting on her throne while Kai stood below her. She stood and crossed her arms over her chest, drifting toward the balcony ledge. Anxiety was already growing inside her.
Two days. Two more days and he’ll be gone.

There was so much she wanted to say to him, and two days wasn’t enough time to get it all out—especially when all the words remained locked up in her throat.

“It’s strange,” Kai said, joining her on the glass overhang, his gaze fixed on Earth again. “I spent all that time trying to avoid a marriage alliance with Luna. And now that the treaty is signed and the war is over … somehow, a marriage alliance doesn’t sound so bad.”

Her heart flipped. Kai’s gaze danced back to her and then he was smiling in a way that was both bashful and confident. The same smile he’d given her the day they’d met in the marketplace. After a long, awkward moment, he laughed. “You really
can’t
blush, can you?”

A mix of relief and disappointment rolled through her and she tucked her hands under her arms to hide their shaking. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Only if you think I didn’t mean it.”

Her brow twitched.

“Here, I have something for you.”

“It had better not be an engagement ring.”

He paused, his lips puckering as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him and he was regretting it.

“Or gloves,” added Cinder. “That didn’t work out too well last time.”

Grinning, Kai took a step closer to her and dropped to one knee.

Her eyes widened.

“Cinder…”

Her heart thumped. “Wait.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time to give this to you.”

“Kai—”

With an expression as serious as politics, he pulled his hand from behind his back. In it was cupped a small metal foot, frayed wires sticking up from the cavity and the joints packed with grease.

Cinder released her breath, then started to laugh. “You—
ugh.
”

“Are you terribly disappointed, because I’m sure Luna has some great jewelry stores if you wanted me to—”

“Shut up,” she said, taking the foot. She turned it over in her palms, shaking her head. “I keep trying to get rid of this thing, but somehow it keeps finding its way back to me. What made you keep it?”

“It occurred to me that if I could find the cyborg that fit this foot, it must be a sign we were meant to be together.” He twisted his lips to one side. “But then I realized it would probably fit an eight-year-old.”

“Eleven, actually.”

“Close enough.” He hesitated. “Honestly, I guess it was the only thing I had to connect me to you when I thought I’d never see you again.”

She slid her gaze off the foot. “Why are you still kneeling?”

Kai reached for her prosthetic hand and brushed his lips against her newly polished knuckles. “You’ll have to get used to people kneeling to you. It kind of comes with the territory.”

“I’m going to make it a law that the correct way to address your sovereign is by giving a high five.”

Kai’s smile brightened. “That’s genius. Me too.”

Cinder pulled her hand away from him and sat down, letting her legs hang over the edge. Her thoughts grew serious again as she stared at the metal foot. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to get your opinion on.”

Kai settled beside her. His expression turned curious, and she looked away, bracing herself. “I think—” She stopped. Gulped. Started again. “I’ve decided to dissolve the Lunar monarchy.”

Pressing her lips together, she waited. The silence became solid in the space between them. But Kai didn’t ask “Why?” or “How?” or “Are you insane?”

Instead, he said, “When?”

“I don’t know. When things have calmed down. When I think they can handle it.” She took in a deep breath. “It will happen again. Some king or queen is going to brainwash the people, use their power to enslave them … There has to be some division of power, some checks and balances … so I’ve decided to change Luna into a republic, elected officials and all.” She bit her lip. She still felt silly talking politics like she had a clue, and it wasn’t until Kai nodded, thoughtful, that she realized how important his approval had been to her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it will be difficult. People don’t like change, and even the citizens who were oppressed under Levana immediately accepted you as their new queen. Plus, they have that whole superstition thing about the royal bloodline. But … I think you’re right. I think it’s what Luna needs.”

She felt as though an entire moon had been lifted off her shoulders.

“What will you do then? After you abdicate?”

“I don’t know. I hear Thorne is looking for a full-time mechanic.” She shrugged, but Kai went on looking pensive. “What?”

“I think you should come back to the Commonwealth. You could stay in the palace, as a Lunar ambassador. It would be a show of good faith. Proof that Earth and Luna can work together,
coincide
together.”

Cinder chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I thought the people of the Commonwealth hated me,” she said. “For the kidnapping. And all that other stuff that happened.”

“Please. You’re the lost princess that saved them from the reign of
Empress
Levana. I heard there’s a toy company that wants to make action figures of you. And they want to put up a statue where your booth used to be at the market.”

She grimaced.

Chuckling, Kai took her hand. “Whenever you come back, you will be welcomed with open arms. And after everything that’s happened, you’re probably going to have about two hundred thousand guys wanting to take you to the Annual Peace Ball next year. I expect the offers to start rolling in any day now.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just wait, you’ll see.” He tilted his head, clumps of hair falling into his eyes. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to get my name on the list before anyone else steals you away. If we start now, and plan frequent visits between Earth and Luna, I might even have time to teach you to dance.”

Cinder bit her lip to disguise a budding smile.

“Please say yes,” said Kai.

Fiddling with the dead wires of her old foot, she asked, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“I don’t care if you wear military boots and cargo pants.”

“I just might.”

“Good.”

“Iko would kill me.” She pretended to be considering it as she cast her gaze toward the sky. “Can I bring my friends?”

“I will personally extend invitations to the entire Rampion crew. We’ll make a reunion out of it.”

“Even Iko?”

“I’ll find her a date.”

“Because there’s a rule against androids coming to the ball, you know.”

“I think I know someone who can change that rule.”

Grinning, she scooted a bit closer. The idea of going back to the ball and facing all those people who had stared at her with such horror and contempt filled her with copious amounts of everything from anxiety to dread to unspeakable joy.

“I would be honored,” she said.

His eyes warmed. “And those dance lessons?”

“Don’t press your luck.”

Kai tilted her chin toward him and kissed her. She didn’t know what number it was—she’d finally figured out how to turn off her brain’s auto-count function and she didn’t care how many times he kissed her. She did care that every kiss no longer felt like their last.

Except, when Kai pulled away, a hint of sadness had slipped into his expression. “Cinder, I believe you would make a great ruler. I believe this decision is proof of that.” He hesitated. “But I also know you never wanted to be queen. Not really.”

Cinder had never told him that, and she wondered if it had been obvious this whole time.

“But I have to ask if”—Kai hesitated—“if you think,
someday
, you might consider being an empress.”

Cinder forced herself to hold his gaze, and to swallow the lighthearted joke that rose to the tip of her tongue. He wasn’t teasing her about engagement rings and dance lessons. This was a real question, from a real emperor, who had the real future of his country to consider.

If she wanted to be a part of his future, she’d have to be a part of it all.

“I would consider it,” she said, then took in the first full breath she’d taken in days. “Someday.”

His grin returned, full force and full of relief.

He put an arm around her and Cinder couldn’t smother her own smile as she leaned against him, staring at Artemisia Lake and the white city and planet Earth surrounded by stars. She spun the cumbersome, hateful foot in her fingers. Ever since she could remember, it had been a burden. A constant reminder that she was worthless, she was unimportant, she was nothing but a cyborg.

She held the foot over the water and let go.

And they all lived happily to the end of their days.

Acknowledgments

My heart overfloweth with gratitude …

For everyone at Macmillan Children’s, including, but not limited to: Jean Feiwel, Liz Szabla, Jon Yaged, Nicole Banholzer, Molly Brouillette, Lauren Burniac, Mariel Dawson, Lucy Del Priore, Liz Fithian, Courtney Griffin, Angus Killick, Johanna Kirby, Anna Roberto, Caitlin Sweeny, Mary Van Akin, Allison Verost, Ksenia Winnicki, and countless more behind-the-scenes advocates for these books. You are all so brilliant and creative and I’m so lucky to be working with you. I also want to give special thanks to the cover designer, Rich Deas, and illustrator, Michael O, who together have created some of the most gorgeous book covers an author could hope for. Thanks also to my copyeditor, Anne Heausler, for your careful attention and surprisingly excellent knowledge of moon geology.

For Rebecca Soler, the ridiculously talented audiobook narrator, along with Samantha Edelson and the whole crew at Macmillan Audio for bringing these stories to life in such a lively and tangible way.

For my intrepid agent and her team: Jill Grinberg, Cheryl Pientka, Katelyn Detweiler, and Denise St. Pierre. Thank you for your constant faith, guidance, and zeal for toasting every milestone. (
Winter
is done—cheers!)

For my beta readers, Tamara Felsinger, Jennifer Johnson, and Meghan Stone-Burgess, who have been with me since the start of this crazy journey. Time and again you’ve forced me to dig deeper and push harder, and your invaluable feedback has made such a tremendous difference to this series and for me as a writer. Plus, I just really adore you all.