Winter

Forty-Six

Kai wasn’t sure how he’d ended up dressed like a groom again. He said nothing as the stylists fidgeted with his hair and clothes. He couldn’t have picked any of them out of a lineup once they’d gone.

Cinder was dead. That, or Levana was keeping her somewhere. He didn’t know which would be worse.

Cinder.

Her name whispered over and over in his thoughts, each time a fresh thorn in his flesh.

Brave, determined Cinder. Smart, resourceful, sarcastic Cinder.

He refused to believe that she was dead. What did a finger indicate, really? He trudged through every faint possibility. It was a fake finger Levana had crafted to torment him. Or Cinder had lost it in a battle but the rest of her had gotten away. Or … surely there must be some other explanation. She couldn’t be dead.

Not Cinder.

His brain was muddled, like the afternoon had been spent in a hazy dream. A hazy nightmare.

Whether or not the finger meant what he feared it meant, he would soon be married to Levana. After everything—all their planning, all their hopes. It was all ending this way, just as Levana had intended from the start.

“What am I doing?” he asked when Torin returned from changing into his own dress clothes.

Unless it was a thaumaturge using a glamour to impersonate Torin …

He slammed shut his eyes.

He hated it here.

Torin sighed and came to stand beside him. Earth was hanging above them—almost full amid the star-filled sky.

“You are stopping a war,” said his adviser, “and obtaining an antidote.”

Kai had used those same arguments so many times they’d begun to lose their meaning. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I’d thought … I’d really thought she stood a chance.”

A hand landed on his shoulder. Comforting as it could be.

“You have not married her yet, Your Majesty. You can still say no.”

A wry laugh escaped him. “With us all trapped here? She would slaughter us.”

Coming here had been a mistake. In the end, his good intentions didn’t matter. He had failed.

A thaumaturge entered, and though he was flanked by two of Kai’s personal guards, everyone in the room knew the guards were merely ornamentation.

“I am to escort you to the grand ballroom,” said the thaumaturge. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

Kai wiped his hands down the front of his silk shirt. Rather than damp and clammy, they were dry. Bone dry and freezing cold. “All right,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Torin stayed at his side as long as he could, following their entourage through the palace’s vast corridors until he was forced to go join the rest of the Commonwealth representatives and guests. It happened in a blur, and though Kai felt as if he were walking with iron shoes on his feet, they reached the ballroom too quickly.

He sucked in a breath, his disbelief interrupted by a jolt of panic.

When they had gone over the rehearsal the day before, it had felt like a joke. Like he was playing a game, and for once, he had the winning hand. But now, as the thaumaturge gestured for him to take his place at the altar set up at the front of the grand ballroom, and he caught sight of the hundreds of exotically dressed Lunars seated before him, it all came crumbling down.

This wasn’t a game at all.

Prime Minister Kamin stood on the dais behind an ornate gold-and-black altar that was crowned with hundreds of small glowing orbs. She caught Kai’s eye as he made his way onto the platform. Her expression was sympathetic. Kai wondered if she realized that Levana intended to conquer her country too, once her grasp was firm around the Commonwealth. Levana planned to conquer them all.

Inhale. Exhale. He turned away without returning Kamin’s almost smile.

The crowd was larger than he’d imagined—easily a thousand people gathered in their evening finest. The contrast between the Earthens’ muted colors and the Lunars’ sparkles and fluorescents was laughable. An aisle stretched down the middle of the ballroom, defined by candelabras topped with more pale orbs, their light flickering like little flames. The aisle runner was black and set with rhinestones in mimicry of the night sky. Or, the always sky, as it was here on Luna.

A hush fell over the room, and Kai could tell it was not a normal hush. It was too controlled, too flawless.

His heart pounded, uncontrolled in its cage. This was the moment he’d been dreading, the fate he’d fought against for so long. No one was going to interfere. He was alone and rooted to the floor.

At the far back of the room, the massive doors opened, chorused with a fanfare of horns. At the end of the aisle, two shadows emerged—a man and a woman in militaristic uniforms carrying the flags of Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth. After they parted, setting the flags into stands on either side of the altar, a series of Lunar guards marched into the room, fully armed and synchronized. They, too, spread out when they reached the altar, like a protective wall around the dais.

Next down the aisle were six thaumaturges dressed in black, walking in pairs, graceful as black swans. They were followed by two in red, and finally Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park, all in white.

A voice dropped down from some hidden speakers. “All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna.”

The people rose.

Kai clasped his shaking hands behind his back.

She appeared as a silhouette first in the lights of the doors, a perfect hourglass dropping off to a full billowing skirt that flowed behind her. She walked with her head high, gliding toward the altar. The dress was scarlet red, rich as blood, with dainty gold chains draped around her shoulders. It reminded Kai of a bloodred poppy, the petals full and drooping. A sheer gold veil covered her face and billowed like a sail as she walked.

When she was close enough, Kai could make out hints of her face through the veil. Her lips had been painted to match the dress and her eyes burned with victory. She strode onto the dais and paused at Kai’s side. The skirt’s hem pooled at her feet.

“You may be seated,” said the disembodied voice.

The crowd shuffled into their seats. Prime Minister Kamin lifted her portscreen from the altar. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lunars and Earthens,” she began, a hidden microphone carrying her voice over the crowd. “We gather today to witness a historical union of Earth and Luna—an alliance formed by trust and mutual respect. This is a significant moment in our history that will forever symbolize the enduring relationship of the people of Luna and the people of Earth.”

She paused to let her words sink into the crowd. Kai wanted to gag.

The prime minister focused on the bride and groom. “We are here to witness the marriage of Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth and Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna.”

Kai met Levana’s gaze through her veil. Her taunting smile chased all his denial away.

Cinder was captured or dead. The wedding would go on as planned; the coronation would take place in two days’ time.

It was just him, now. The last line of defense between Levana and Earth.

So be it.

He set his jaw and returned his focus to their officiant. He gave a small nod. The wedding began.