Kai began to nod, but stopped and scanned the room. “What med-droid?”
“It isn’t here anymore, of course,” said Dr. Erland, his voice chipper as if lying were a fun game. “It’s probably off drawing blood as we speak.”
“R-right,” said Cinder, forcing her jaw to stop hanging open like an idiot’s. “I already fixed it. Good as new.” She pulled out the wrench and twirled it over her fingers like hard evidence.
Though Kai appeared confused, he nodded as if the story wasn’t worth questioning. Cinder was grateful that the doctor had so easily devised a story, but it also unnerved her. What reason did he have to keep secrets from the Crown Prince, especially when he could be nearing a breakthrough on plague research? Didn’t Kai deserve to know about it? Didn’t everyone?
“I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to look at Nainsi?” Kai asked.
Cinder stopped twirling the wrench and clutched it with both hands to keep herself from fidgeting. “No, not yet. I’m sorry. It’s been…the last twenty-four hours…”
He shrugged her words away, but the gesture was stiff on him. “You probably have a client list a mile long. I shouldn’t expect royal treatment.” His mouth twitched. “Although I guess I do anyway.”
Cinder’s heart tripped as his grin caught her by surprise, every bit as charming and unexpected as it had been at the market. Then her eye spotted the holograph behind him, still showing her inner workings—from the metal vertebrae to her bunched wires to her perfectly intact ovaries. She snapped her gaze back to Kai, pulse racing.
“I promise to take a look at it as soon as I can. Before the festival. Definitely.”
Kai turned, following her gaze to the holograph. Cinder squeezed her fists together, nerves twisting in the base of her stomach, as Kai recoiled from the image.
A girl. A machine. A freak.
She bit her lip, resigning herself to never receiving another of the prince’s heart-stopping smiles, when Dr. Erland stepped toward the holograph and turned the netscreen off with a flick. “My apologies, Your Highness, patient confidentiality. That was from today’s draft subject.”
Another lie.
Cinder strangled the wrench, equal parts gratitude and suspicion filling her.
Kai shook off his surprise. “That’s actually why I came down here. I was wondering if you’ve made any progress.”
“Hard to say at this point, Your Highness, but we may have found a potential lead. I’ll of course keep you posted on any developments.” He smiled innocently, first at Kai, then at Cinder. The look was clear—he would not tell Kai anything.
She just couldn’t understand why.
Clearing her throat, Cinder backed toward the exit. “I should go then, let you get back to work,” she said, tapping the wrench against her palm. “I guess…um…I’ll be back to make sure the med is performing properly? Say…tomorrow?”
“Perfect,” said the doctor. “I also have your ID number in case I ever need to find you.” His smile darkened, just barely, as if to say that Cinder’s “volunteer” status would only last so long as she did return voluntarily. She was valuable now. He had no intention of letting her walk out forever.
“I’ll see you out,” said the prince, flashing his wrist by the scanner. The door breezed open.
Cinder held up her gloved hands, the wrench locked in her grip. “No, no, that’s fine. I can find my way.”
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”
“Yes. Positive. I’m sure you have very important…royal…government…research things. To discuss. But thank you. Your Highness.” She attempted an awkward bow, glad that at least this time she had both feet firmly attached.
“All right. Well, it was nice to see you again. A pleasant surprise.”
She laughed ironically, surprised to find his expression serious. His eyes warm upon her, and a little curious.
“Y-you too.” She backed out the door. Smiling. Trembling. Praying there were no grease spots on her face. “I’ll comm you, then. When your android is ready.”
“Thank you. Linh-mèi.”
“You can call me Cin—” The door shut between them. “—der. Cinder. Would be fine. Your Highness.” She sagged against the corridor wall, thumping her knuckles against her forehead. “I’ll comm you. You can call me Cinder,” she mimicked, then bit down on her lip. “Don’t mind the babbling girl.”
He was the fantasy of every girl in the country. He was so far out of her realm, her world, that she should have stopped thinking about him the second the door had closed. Should stop thinking about him immediately. Should never think about him again, except maybe as a client—and her prince.
And yet, the memory of his fingers against her skin refused to fade.
Chapter Fifteen