Winter Read online

  Winter stopped again, but he kept walking, shaking his finger over his shoulder. “I’m not saying these things and looking at you at the same time, so keep up.”

  She scurried after him. “How do you feel about me?”

  “No. That’s it. That’s all I’m saying. I am your guard. I am here to protect you and keep you out of trouble, and that’s it. We are not swapping words that will result in a whole lot of awkward nights standing outside your bedroom door, got it?”

  He was surprised at how angry he sounded—no, how angry he felt. Because it was impossible. It was impossible and unfair, and he had spent too many years in the trenches of unfairness to get riled up about it now.

  Winter strode beside him, her fingers clenched around the basket handle. At least she wasn’t trying to catch his eye anymore, which was a small mercy.

  “I do know how you feel about me,” she finally said, and it sounded like a confession. “I know that you are my guard, and you are my best friend. I know you would die for me. And I know that should that ever happen, I would die immediately after.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s pretty much it.” The sound of a nearby coffee grinder rumbled through the stone walkway, and the smell of baking bread assaulted his senses. He braced himself. “Also, I think you’re sort of pretty. You know. On a good day.”

  She giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. He nudged her back and she stumbled into a flower planter, laughing harder now.

  “You’re sort of pretty too,” she said. He threw a scowl at her, but it was impossible to hold on to when she was laughing like that.

  “Your Highness!”

  They both paused. Jacin stiffened, his hand going to his gun holster, but it was only a young girl watching them from the doorway of a little shop. A soap-filled bucket stood untouched at her feet and her eyes were as big as the full Earth.

  “Oh, hello,” said Winter, adjusting her basket. “Astrid, isn’t it?”

  The girl nodded, heat climbing up her cheeks as she gaped at the princess. “I—” She glanced toward the shop, then back to Winter. “Wait here!” she squealed, then dropped a rag into the bucket with a wet plop and rushed through the door.

  Winter cocked her head to one side, her hair tumbling over her shoulder.

  “You know that kid?”

  “Her mother and father run this florist.” She ran her fingers along a trailing vine in the window box.

  Jacin grunted. “What does she want?”

  “How should I know? I wish I’d brought them something…”

  The girl reappeared, now with two younger boys in tow. “See? I told you she’d be back!” she was saying. The boys each paused to stare at Winter, their jaws hanging. The youngest was gripping a ring of twigs and dried flowers in both hands.

  “Hello,” said Winter, curtsying to each one. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Winter.”

  When the boys couldn’t find the courage to speak, Astrid answered, “These are my brothers, Your Highness, Dorsey and Dylan. I told them you bought flowers from our shop before and they didn’t believe me.”

  “Well, it’s true. I bought a posy of blue belldandies and kept them on my nightstand for a week.”

  “Wow,” Dorsey breathed.

  Winter smiled. “I’m sorry we can’t stay to take a look through your shop this morning, but we’re off to visit the milliner’s assistant. Have you been to see the new baby yet?”

  All three of them shook their heads. Then Astrid nudged the younger boy, Dylan, with her elbow. He jumped, but still couldn’t bring himself to speak.

  “We made something for you,” said Astrid. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back. It’s just … it’s just from the leftovers, but…” She nudged her brother again, harder this time, and he finally held up the ring of flowers.

  “What is this?” asked Winter, taking it into her hands.

  Jacin frowned, then jolted as he realized what it was.

  The older boy answered, “It’s a crown, Your Highness. Took us almost a week of scrounging to get all the pieces.” His cheeks were flushed bright red.

  “I know it’s not much,” said the girl, “but it’s for you.”

  The younger boy, having divested his gift, blurted suddenly, “You’re beautiful,” before ducking behind his brother.

  Winter laughed. “You’re all too kind. Thank you.”

  A hazy light caught Jacin’s eye. Glancing upward, he spotted a nodule in the eaves of the next shop—a tiny camera watching over the shops and servants. There were thousands of identical cameras in sectors all over Luna, and he knew the chances of anyone minding the footage from a dull morning in AR-2 was unlikely, but a threatening chill still crept down his spine.

  “The crown is lovely,” Winter said, admiring the tiny white sprigs of flowers. She settled it on top of her thick black curls. “As splendid as the queen’s jewels. I shall cherish it always.”

  With a growl, Jacin snatched the crown off her head and dropped it into the basket. “She will cherish it just as well in there,” he snapped, his tone a warning. “The princess is busy. Go back inside, and don’t go bragging about this to all your friends.”

  With frightened squeaks and wide eyes, the children couldn’t have scurried back into the florist shop any faster. Grabbing Winter’s elbow, Jacin dragged her away, though she soon ripped her arm out of his grip.

  “Why did you do that?” she demanded.

  “It looked bad.”

  “Accepting a gift from a few children? Honestly, Jacin, you don’t have to be so mean.”

  “You could stand to be a little less nice,” he spat back, scanning the walls and windows but not seeing any more cameras. “Putting it on your head. Are you insane?” She scowled at him and he scowled unapologetically back. “You’re lucky no one saw.” He gestured to the basket. “Cover it up before I rip it apart and bury it in one of these planters.”

  “You’re overreacting,” Winter said, though she did tuck a few of her hand towels around the mess of branches.

  “You’re not a queen, Princess.”

  Her gaze met his again, aghast. “I do not wish to be queen.”

  “Then stop accepting crowns.”

  Huffing, Winter turned away and marched on ahead—like a true princess would march ahead of her guard.

  Fourteen

  Kai waited until Thorne’s podship was a glint in the distance before he pulled out the portscreen Cinder had given him. Without an official ID chip confirming his identity, his comm to Royal Adviser Konn Torin was intercepted by the palace communications mainframe. The face of a young intern appeared.

  “New Beijing Palace. How may I … direct…” Her eyes widened.

  Kai smiled. “Emperor Kaito, for Royal Adviser Konn Torin, please.”

  “Y-yes, Your Majesty. Of course. Right away.” Her cheeks bloomed red as she scrambled to redirect the commlink. Soon her image was replaced with Torin’s.

  “Your Majesty! Is it—are you—one moment. I’m stepping out of a meeting with the cabinet—are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Torin. But I’m ready to come home.”

  He heard the click of a door. “Where are you? Are you safe? Do you need—”

  “I’ll tell you everything when I get back. Right now I’m at our safe house on the Taihang terraces, and I’m alone. If you could alert the palace guard—”

  “Right away, Your Majesty. We’ll be there right away.”

  Torin suggested they keep the link open, afraid someone else would come for Kai before his own security team reached him. Although Cinder had ensured that the portscreen itself was untraceable, the link wasn’t set up for direct communications and it was possible Lunars were listening in. But Kai knew Luna had lost their best method of surveillance when they’d lost Cress, so he insisted he was fine, he would be fine, before terminating the link.

  He needed a moment to think before the whole galaxy spun out of control again.

/>   Clipping the port to his belt, Kai climbed onto one of the large rocks overlooking the valley. He folded his legs beneath him, surprised at how calm he felt staring out at the terraces, plateaus that curled around the lush mountains, the teasing sparkle of a river winding at their feet. He could have gone inside the safe house to wait, but the weather was warm and there was a breeze that smelled like jasmine and it had been far too long since he’d admired the beautiful country he’d been born to.

  After weeks aboard the Rampion, with its recycled air and reprocessed water, he was glad to be home.

  And though he’d never seen Luna or its biodomes filled with artificial forests and man-made lakes, he was beginning to understand why Levana might want to dig her claws into Earth too.

  Little time had passed when Kai heard the hum of engines. He kept his eye on the horizon, waiting for the podships. When they arrived, they arrived in force—a dozen military ships surrounding the safe house, many with guns drawn, and any number of personnel scanning the landscape for signs of a threat.

  Squinting against the sunlight, Kai pushed his hair off his brow while the largest ship landed not far from the house. Uniformed officers poured out, establishing a perimeter and scanning for nearby life-forms, all jabbering into their headphones and holding ominous guns at the ready.

  “Your Imperial Majesty,” barked a gray-haired man, leading a team of four men up to him. “We are glad to see you, sir. Permission to conduct a security clearance scan?”

  Kai pulled himself off the rock and handed the portscreen to one of the officers, who secured it in a crime evidence bag. He held out his arms while another officer dragged a scanner down his limbs.

  “All clear. Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you. Where is Konn—”

  A bang sent half a dozen personnel spinning toward the safe house, barking and leveling their guns at a cellar door that had burst open.

  Konn Torin emerged, more harried than Kai had ever seen him. “Royal Adviser Konn Torin,” he yelled, holding up his hands. His gaze flashed once over the guns, then landed on Kai near the edge of the plateau. His shoulders drooped with relief and as soon as one of the officers had scanned his wrist and confirmed his identity, Torin did something he had never done before.

  He rushed toward Kai and hugged him.

  The embrace was as quick as it was unexpected, before Torin pulled away and held Kai at arm’s length, examining him. Kai was surprised to find he was slightly taller than Torin. That couldn’t have happened in the past few weeks. Maybe he’d been taller for months and had never noticed. Having known Torin since he was a child, it was difficult to change his perception of him now.

  Cinder told him that Torin had informed her of Kai’s second tracking chip. Maybe he was full of more surprises than Kai gave him credit for.

  “Your face!” said Torin. “What did they do to you? She promised me—”

  “I’m fine,” said Kai, squeezing Torin’s arm. “It’s just a bruise. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry—!”

  “Your Majesty,” interrupted the gray-haired man, “it may help to avoid media attention if you return through the safe house sublevels. We’ll send a team to escort you.”

  Kai glanced around. A number of palace guards had emerged to join the flocking military. “If I’d known that was an option, I would have skipped this whole charade.”

  The officer didn’t react.

  “Yes, fine. Thank you for your thoroughness. Let’s go.”

  Torin fell into step beside him, along with way too many guards, as they were ushered toward the cellar door.

  “Nainsi will have tea waiting for you, and the chefs have been ordered to prepare refreshments for your return,” said Torin. “The press secretary is drafting up a statement for the media, but you’ll want to be briefed on the palace’s official position regarding the security breach and kidnapping before we release anything.”

  Kai had to duck his head entering the house’s basement. It was tidy, despite a few cobwebs in the corners, and as they headed into the passageways beneath the mountains they got brighter and cleaner.

  “What’s the status on the palace?” asked Kai.

  “The enemy soldiers have not yet breached the palace walls. Our tactical analysts believe that if they do overrun the palace and discover there are no people to kill, they will redirect their attention to elsewhere. So far, we’ve found that these soldiers do not seem interested in general destruction or theft, only killing.”

  “Unless Levana is using the palace to make a statement. It would suggest they’re winning.”

  “That is a possibility.”

  They rounded a corner and in the distance Kai could make out activity—talking and footsteps and the buzz of machinery. His entire staff was crammed into this labyrinth of rooms and hallways. He almost wished he’d stayed up on the terrace.

  “Torin, what about the families of all these people? Are they safe?”

  “Yes, sir. The families of all government officials were relocated to the palace within forty-eight hours of the first attacks. They are all here.”

  “And what about the people who aren’t government officials? The chefs? The … the housekeepers?”

  “I’m afraid we didn’t have room for everyone. We would have brought down the whole city if we could.”

  Kai’s gut clenched. He would have brought the whole country with him, if he could.

  “Of course,” he said, forcing himself not to dwell on the things he couldn’t change. “Do I have an office down here? I need Nainsi to set up a meeting. This afternoon, if possible.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. There are also private rooms set aside for the royal family. I’m having them made up now.”

  “Well, there’s only one of me, and I only need one room. We can find something more useful to do with the rest of them.”

  “Of course. Who is Nainsi to contact for this meeting?”

  He inhaled deeply. “My fiancée.”

  Torin’s pace slowed and Kai thought he might come to a complete stop, but Kai pulled his shoulders back and kept marching down the corridors. One of the guards ahead of them was yelling again—“Clear the way! Clear the way!”—as curious staff and officials emerged from doorways. Rumors were spreading fast and as Kai met the eyes of those he passed, he saw joy and relief cross their faces.

  He gulped. It was strange to think how many people were worried about him—not just the people he saw every day, but citizens throughout the Commonwealth—waiting to hear if the kidnappers would return their emperor safely, having no idea that Linh Cinder was the last person in the world who would hurt him. It made him feel a little guilty for having enjoyed his time aboard the Rampion as much as he had.

  “Your Majesty,” said Torin, lowering his voice as he caught up with him again, “I must advise you to reconsider your arrangement with Queen Levana. We should at least discuss the best course of action before we make any hasty decisions.”

  Kai cut a glance toward his adviser. “Our government is being run out of an enormous bomb shelter and there are Lunar mutants beating down the doors of my palace. I’m not making hasty decisions. I’m doing what has to be done.”

  “What will the people think when they hear you intend to follow through with a marriage to the woman who is responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths?”

  “Millions. She’s responsible for millions of deaths. But that doesn’t change anything—we still need her letumosis antidote, and I’m hoping she’ll accept the terms of a new cease-fire while we confirm alliance details.”

  One of the guards gestured toward an open door. “Your office, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you. I require a moment of privacy with Konn-dàren, but if an android comes by with some tea, let her in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stepped into the office. It was less lavish than his office in the palace, but not uncomfortable. Without windows, the room was filled with ar
tificial light, but bamboo matting on the walls gave the space some warmth and helped deaden the sound of Kai’s footsteps on the concrete floor. A large desk with a netscreen and half a dozen chairs took up the rest of the space.

  Kai froze when his eyes landed on the desk and he started to laugh. On the corner of the desk sat a small, grime-filled cyborg foot. “You’re kidding,” he said, picking it up.

  “I thought it was becoming a token of good luck,” said Torin. “Although in hindsight, I can’t imagine what led me to think that.”

  Smiling in amusement, Kai set Cinder’s abandoned foot back down.

  “Your Majesty,” continued Torin, “what did you mean when you said Levana is already responsible for millions of deaths?”

  Kai leaned against the desk. “We thought this war began when her special operatives attacked those first fifteen cities, but we were wrong. This war began when letumosis was manufactured in a Lunar laboratory and brought to Earth for the first time. All these years, she’s been waging biological warfare on us, and we had no idea.”

  Though Torin was skilled at disguising his emotions, he couldn’t hide his growing horror. “You’re certain of this?”

  “Yes. She wanted to weaken us, in population and resources, before she struck. I also suspect her ploy to offer an antidote as a bargaining chip was designed to create an immediate dependency on Luna—once she became empress.”

  “And you don’t think this changes anything? Knowing it’s all been a strategy to coerce you into this alliance, you still plan on going through with it? Your Majesty, there must be another way. Something we haven’t considered yet.” Torin’s expression tightened. “I should inform you that in your absence, we’ve had a team focused on designing a new class of military-grade weaponry that will be able to penetrate even the biodomes on Luna.”

  Kai held his gaze. “We’re building bombs.”

  “Yes. It’s been a slow process. No Earthen military has built or harbored such weapons since the end of the Fourth World War, and there are unique modifications required to weaken Luna. But we believe that with Luna’s limited resources and dependency on the domes to protect them—the success of a few bombs could mean a swift end to the war.”