Lunar Chronicles #4 Winter - Page 173

His jaw tightened. She could see the war in his thoughts, but she was already resolved.

“I have lived in fear of her my entire life,” she continued. “If this is the only chance I’m given to stand against her, then I have to take it. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to be afraid. And I don’t want to be separated from you, ever again.”

His shoulders started to droop, the first indication she’d won. He raised a finger between them. “Fine. We’ll go together. But you are not to touch any weapons, understand?”

“What would I do with a weapon?”

“Exactly.”

“Jacin, Winter.” Cinder was tapping her foot, her eyes wild with growing impatience. “We’re sort of on a tight—”

As if the sky itself were listening, the dome overhead darkened, and three enormous screens lit up against the black backdrop.

“People of Luna,” said a feminine voice, “please give your full attention now to this mandatory broadcast, live from Artemisia Palace. The royal coronation ceremony is about to begin.”

A wicked grin pulled at Winter’s lips. She stepped away from Jacin, faced the people, and raised her arms to her sides. “People of Luna,” she said, echoing the broadcast and pulling the crowd’s attention away from the dome, “please give your full attention now to the true heir to the Lunar throne, Princess Selene, live from your very own sector.” Her eyes flashed as she swooped an arm toward Cinder. “Our revolution is about to begin.”

BOOK Five

The mirror answered: “You, my queen, are fair; it’s true.

But the young queen is far more fair than you.”

Seventy-Eight

Kai barreled down the hallway, glad no one was around to see him sprinting in his coronation finery, though his thoughts were too full to worry about appearances. Cinder was alive. Thorne was captured. Cinder was going to invade Artemisia.

Today. Now.

He still felt guilty for leaving Cress alone. He should have done more. He shouldn’t have cared how late he was to this coronation, a ceremony he had no desire to be a part of to begin with. He should have taken more pleasure in making Levana wait. He should have faked another kidnapping.

He cursed inside, wishing he would have thought of that sooner.

But, no—his going missing would set off alarms and the last thing Cress and the others needed were alarms. The best thing he could do to quell Levana’s suspicions was to go forward as if nothing had changed.

The best thing he could do was crown her empress of his country.

It made him sick to think it, but he would stick to the plan. He would play his part.

He spun around a corner, nearly toppling a statue of some chisel-muscled moon G.o.d. Kai grabbed the statue, righting it while his heart launched into his throat. When both he and the statue had calmed, he shoved his way through the double doors that led into a series of private waiting chambers.

Two guards flanked the doorway into the great hall. Torin was seated on a cushioned bench beside a woman with gold, poufed hair, who gasped with such fervor Kai thought she might pa.s.s out.

“Oh, thank you, Artemis!” she said, pressing a cloth to her brow. “Where have you been?”

“I told you he was on his way,” said Torin.

The woman ignored him, already speaking into a device attached to her wrist. “The emperor has arrived. Ceremony to commence in thirty seconds.” She shoved the port onto her belt and focused on Kai, scanning him with a mix of anxiety and disgust. “Earthens,” she muttered, straightening his sash and brushing his hair away from his face. “You never take any pride in your appearance.”

He gulped back a quick retort involving gold hair and accepted a gla.s.s of water from a servant.

Torin stood from the bench and slipped his hands into his pockets. He looked alarmingly casual without a jacket, and Kai wondered if he, too, had already been criticized by this woman, whoever she was. “Is everything all right, Your Majesty?”

The words were said with calm indifference, but Kai could see tense curiosity beneath Torin’s expression.

Although he didn’t know whether it was true, he nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

Beyond the double doors he could hear the chatter of hundreds of voices and he wondered what rumors were already circulating as to the ceremony’s delay. “I’m ready.”

“So is Her Majesty,” said the woman. She shoved Torin toward another entrance. “You—go take your seat! Your Majesty, follow me.”

Kai followed her between the guards, through the double doors, into a short hallway lined with ornamental pillars.

Levana was waiting, outfitted in a dress that matched Kai’s sash—the colors of the Eastern Commonwealth. She looked like a giant walking flag, with a row of stars along the base of her gown’s hem and a white lotus blossoming across her side. She, too, wore a sash, this in burnt orange—on Earth, the color of the rising sun.

The sight of her showing so much fake patriotism for the Commonwealth made him want to tear off that sash and strangle her with it.

She held her hands toward him as he approached. Though he bristled, he had no choice but to take them. Her fingers were icy cold.

“My dear husband,” she cooed. “I feel we were parted for too long.”

He scowled. “How long are you planning on keeping up this charade, exactly?”

“‘Charade’?” Levana t.i.ttered. “Surely a wife is allowed to long for her husband without her emotions being considered suspect?”