Sixty-One
Kai’s face was made up of confusion, like she’d spoken gibberish. His wedding sash slipped out of his hands and drifted to the floor.
When the silence slipped toward awkward, Cinder cleared her throat. “And in case you weren’t sure, I was being sarcastic before about all that ‘great’ stuff. Not that, I mean—I know you have your own things to worry about, so you don’t need to … I don’t … I’m fine, really. It’s just been a rough few weeks with the whole”—she circled her hands wildly through the air—“Peony-ball-Levana-wedding thing. And now Dr. Erland is dead and Scarlet is gone and Thorne is blind and Wolf … I’m not sure. He’s so still these days and I’m really starting to worry about him. But I’ve got it under control. I can do this. I’m—”
“Stop. Please stop talking.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
The silence dragged on.
Cinder opened her mouth, but Kai held up his hand. She shut it again. Bit her lip.
“You?” he finally said. “You are Princess Selene?”
Grimacing, she rubbed at her wrist. “Surprise?”
“All this time?”
She ducked her head, suddenly uncomfortable at the way he was looking at her. “Um, yeah, technically. Dr. Erland figured it out first, when I was taken in for the cyborg draft. He ran my DNA and … yeah. But he decided not to tell me until I was locked up in prison, which complicated a few things.”
Kai guffawed, but not in a mean way. Inhaling a shaky breath, he rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Then, as quickly as his disbelief had come, the comprehension came faster. “Oh, stars. Levana knows, doesn’t she? That’s why she hates you so much. That’s why she’s so determined to find you.”
“Yeah, she knows.”
“And it was you. This whole time, it was you.”
“You’re actually taking this better than I thought you would.”
He dragged both hands down his face. “No, you know, it almost makes sense. Kind of.” He scraped his gaze over her. “Although … somehow, I always pictured the princess … I don’t know. In a dress.”
Cinder laughed.
“And I always thought that when I found her, it would be so easy. We would just … present her to the world and announce her as the true queen, and Levana would crawl away to some hole. I never imagined that Levana would already know. That she would be fighting it.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I’m beginning to think you may not know your fiancée very well.”
He scowled at her. “That’s it, Cinder. No more secrets. I don’t know if I can survive any more big reveals from you, so if you have anything else to tell me, out with it. Right now.”
Cinder rocked back on her heels, pondering.
Cyborg. Lunar. Princess.
No more secrets. No more lies.
Well, just one.
She thought she might be a tiny bit in love with him.
But there was no way she could tell him that.
“I can’t cry,” she whispered instead, hunching her shoulders.
Kai blinked, twice, then scratched his ear and looked away. “I already knew that.”
“What? How?”
“Your guardian may have said something about it. And I … I’ve seen your medical records.”
“My—” Her eyes widened. “You’ve seen … you know…?”
“You were a fugitive and I needed to know more about you and I … I’m sorry.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d seen the diagram of her cyborg implants. Every wire. Every synthetic organ. Every manufactured panel. Thinking about it made her feel nauseous. She couldn’t imagine what someone else would think when they saw it. What Kai must have thought.
“No, it’s all right,” she said. “No more secrets.”
He took a step toward her. “Your eyes … are they really…?”
“Synthetic,” she murmured, when he couldn’t say the word himself.
“And that’s why you can’t cry?”
She nodded, unable to look up at him, even as he came to stand not two steps in front of her. “I don’t need the tear ducts for lubrication, and they were getting in the way of … um.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “I have a retina scanner and display in my eye. It’s like a really small netscreen, so there’s a lot of wiring. Oh, stars, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” She buried her face in her hands.
“It’s kind of brilliant,” said Kai.
She nearly choked on her own laugh.
Kai reached for her wrists. “Can I see?”
She groaned, knowing that if she had the ability to blush, her face would be as red as his wedding sash.
Mortified and resigned, she let him pull her hands away and struggled to hold his gaze. He stared into her eyes like he could see through to her control panel, but then, after a moment, he shook his head.
“You’d never even know.”
Trying not to fidget, Cinder raised her eyes to the ceiling, hating herself a little bit for what she was about to do. But what did it matter now? He would never again be fooled into thinking she was human.
“Watch the bottom of my left iris,” she whispered. She turned on the retina display, pulling up a newsfeed she’d been watching before they got to New Beijing—news from the African union . An anchor was talking, but Cinder didn’t bother to turn on the audio.
Kai dipped his head. It took a moment, but then his lips parted. “There’s … is that…?”
“Newsfeed.”
“It’s so small. Just a dot, really.”
“It looks a lot bigger to me.” A tingle traipsed down her spine at how he was studying her, almost in childish awe, and how he was so close, and how he was still holding her wrists.
He seemed to realize it at the same time. His expression changed suddenly, and she knew he wasn’t looking at the retina display anymore, or even her synthetic eyes. He was looking at her.
Her heart pattered.
Kai licked his lips. “I’m sorry I had you arrested. But I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Really? You don’t hate me for … shooting you?”
His lips twitched and he glanced down. Taking her cyborg hand into both of his, he lifted it between them, eyeing the metal fingers. “I don’t remember that medical diagram saying anything about a gun. My security team probably would have found that to be useful information.”
“I like to maintain an air of mystery.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She watched his thumb trace the length of her fingers, finding it hard to breathe, impossible to move. “The hand is new,” she whispered.
“It appears to be excellent craftsmanship.” His voice, too, had dropped.
“It’s plated with one-hundred percent titanium.” She didn’t know why she said it. Hardly knew what she’d said at all.
Bending his head, Kai pressed his lips to her knuckles. The plating had no nerve endings, and yet the touch sent a tingle of electricity along her arm.
“Cinder?”
“Mm?”
He lifted his gaze. “Just to be clear, you’re not using your mind powers on me right now, are you?”
She blinked. “Of course not.”
“Just checking.”
Then he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her.
Cinder gasped, pressing her palms against his chest. Kai pulled her closer.
Seconds later, her brain began registering all the new chemicals flooding her system. INCREASED LEVELS OF DOPAMINE AND ENDORPHINS, REDUCED AMOUNTS OF CORTISOL, ERRATIC PULSE, RISING BLOOD PRESSURE …
Leaning into him, Cinder sent the messages away. Her hands tentatively made their way to his shoulders, before stringing around his neck.
Then, somewhere in the rush of sensations, Cinder’s attention snagged on the retina display, alone against the darkness of her eyelids. At first, it was only a dim, annoyed awareness. But then—
FARAFRAH.
LUNARS.
MASSACRE.
Her eyes snapped open. She pulled herself away.
Kai started. “Wha—”
“I’m sorry.”
She started to tremble, still focused on the newsfeed.
A moment passed in which she was watching the feed with horror, and then Kai cleared his throat. His voice had gone heavy. “No. No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No!” She grabbed his shirt before he could pull away from her. “It’s not—It’s Levana.”
His expression turned cold.
“She’s … she’s retaliated. She attacked…” Cursing, she tore her hands away from Kai, covering her face while she digested the news. A swarm of Lunar soldiers attacked the oasis town not two hours ago, before disappearing into the desert as fast as they’d come. They murdered both the civilians and the Commonwealth soldiers who had been sent to question them.
Pictures flashed across the scene.
Blood. So much blood.
“Cinder—where? Where did she strike?”
“Africa. The town…” She gulped. “The people that helped us.”
Something snapped in her head. Screaming, Cinder reached for the strip of tools, seized a wrench, and threw it at the far wall. It clattered harmlessly to the floor. She grabbed a screwdriver next, but Kai just as quickly lifted it from her hand.
“Has she put forth any demands?” he said, absurdly calm.
She clenched her empty fists. “I don’t know. I just know they’re all dead. Because of me. Because they helped me.” She fell into a crouch, covering her head. Her entire body was burning up with fury.
At Levana.
But mostly at herself. At her own decisions.
Because she’d known this would happen. She’d made the choice anyway.
“Cinder.”
“This is my fault.”
A hand settled on her back. “You didn’t kill them.”
“I might as well have.”
“Did they know the risk they were taking when they helped you? The danger they’d be in?”
She turned her head away from him.
“Maybe they did it because they believed in you. Because they thought the risk was worth it.”
“Is this supposed to be helping?”
“Cinder—”
“You want to know another secret? The biggest secret?” She sat, splaying her legs like a broken doll in front of her. “I’m scared, Kai. I’m so scared.” She thought it might feel better, to say the words out loud, but instead they only made her feel pathetic and weak. She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m scared of her, and her army, and what she can do. And everyone expects me to be strong and brave, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I have no idea how to overthrow her. And even if I succeed, I have no idea how to be a queen. There are so many people relying on me, people who don’t even know they’re relying on me, and now they’re dying, all because of some ridiculous fantasy that I can help them, that I can save them, but what if I can’t?”
A headache began to throb against her temples, a reminder that she would be crying right now. If she were normal.
Arms wrapped around her.
Cinder pressed her face against his silk shirt. There was some sort of cologne or maybe soap there—so faint she hadn’t picked up on it before.
“I know exactly how you feel,” Kai said.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Not exactly.”
“I think pretty close.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. More than anything, I’m afraid that … the more I fight her and the stronger I become, the more I’m turning into her.”
Sitting back on his heels, Kai pulled away just enough to look into her face without releasing her. “You’re not turning into Levana.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I manipulated your adviser today, and countless guards. I manipulated Wolf. I … I killed a police officer, in France, and I would have killed more people if I’d had to, people in your own military, and I don’t even know if I would feel bad about it, because there are always ways to justify it. It’s for the good of everyone, isn’t it? Sacrifices have to be made. And then there are the mirrors, such a stupid, stupid thing, but they—I’m beginning to get it. Why she hates them so much. And then—” She shuddered. “Today, I tortured her thaumaturge. I didn’t just manipulate her. I tortured her. And I almost enjoyed it.”
“Cinder, look at me.” He cupped her face. “I know you’re scared, and you have every right to be. But you are not turning into Queen Levana.”
“You can’t know that.”
“But I do.”
“She’s my aunt, you know.”
He smoothed back her hair. “Yeah, well, my great-grandfather signed the Cyborg Protection Act. And yet, here we are.”
She bit her lip. Here they were.
“Now, let’s never talk about you being related to her again. Because I’m technically still engaged to her, and that’s really weird.”
Cinder couldn’t help laughing, even exhaustedly, even just to cover up the screaming inside, as he bound her up in his arms again. Her headache began to fade, replaced with the strength of his heartbeat and the way she felt almost delicate when she was pressed up against him like this.
Almost fragile.
Almost safe.
Almost like a princess.
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she murmured.
“I won’t.”
“And if it turns out I make a terrible princess?”
He shrugged against her. “The people of Luna don’t need a princess. They need a revolutionary.”
Cinder furrowed her brow. “A revolutionary,” she repeated. She liked that a lot better than princess.
The door zipped open.
Cinder and Kai jumped apart, Kai scrambling to his feet.
Cress, breathless and flushed, paused in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But the newsfeeds—Levana—”
“I know,” said Cinder, forcing herself to stand. “I know about Farafrah.”
Cress shook her head, wild-eyed. “It isn’t just Farafrah. Their ships are swarming Earth, every continent. Thousands of soldiers are invading the cities. Her other soldiers.” She shuddered so hard she had to grasp the door frame. “They’re like animals, like predators.”
“What is Earth doing?” asked Kai, and Cinder recognized his leader voice. “Are we defending ourselves?”
“They’re trying. All six countries have declared a state of war. Evacuations are being ordered, military is assembling—”
“All six?”
Cress pushed her hair off her brow. “Konn Torin has temporarily assumed the role of leader of the Commonwealth … until your return.”
A heavy silence pressed against Cinder’s chest. Then Kai turned to face her, and she could feel the gravity of his emotions without looking at him.
“I think it’s about time you told me about this plan,” he said.
Cinder curled her hands into tight fists. The possibility of their success had seemed so faint that she’d hardly considered what would come next. She’d hoped they would have some time, at least a day or two, but she saw now that there would be no such respite.
War had begun.
“You said yourself that the people of Luna need a revolutionary.” She lifted her chin, holding his gaze. “So I’m going to Luna, and I’m going to start a revolution.”
Acknowledgments
Where, oh where, to begin.
The marvelous team at the Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group continues to amaze me with their brilliance, creativity, and enthusiasm. My editor, Liz Szabla, my publisher, Jean Feiwel, along with Lauren Burniac, Rich Deas, Lucy Del Priore, Elizabeth Fithian, Courtney Griffin, Anna Roberto, Allison Verost, Emily Waters-Curley, Ksenia Winnicki, and no doubt countless others who work tirelessly behind the scenes to bring these books out into the world—you are all awesome. Thank you.
My agency team—Jill Grinberg, Cheryl Pientka, and Katelyn Detweiler—is a constant source of comfort and encouragement. I am so grateful for everything you do.
I’m lucky to have amazing beta readers who have given me priceless feedback on this series since day one. Tamara Felsinger, Jennifer Johnson, and Meghan Stone-Burgess, I really couldn’t do it without you. And thanks to the rest of the UM Girls, who are so clever and hilarious and supportive, and to Tuxedo Mask, for bringing us together.
Thanks to blog readers Melissa Anne and Mark Murata, along with Kasey Andrews, Brittney, Chantalle, Elisabeth, Megan, and Miniwriter12 from Goodreads, who helped me develop the discussion questions for Scarlet, a task no author should have to conquer alone.
Last, but never, ever least, a thousand thank-yous to my husband, my parents, my family, and my friends who have helped me plan launch parties (thanks, Mom!), designed swag (thanks, Leilani!), styled my hair for a book tour (thanks, Chelsea!), kept me from going crazy on said tour (thanks, honey!), and who smile knowingly when I space out during a conversation because I just had a really great idea for The Book. I love you guys.