“My consciousness has been restored for one hour and forty-seven minutes,” said the android. “And I am now reporting for duty. Might I offer my condolences on the untimely loss of Emperor Rikan. My heart is broken from the news.”
Kai heard Queen Levana snort behind him. “The idea that a pile of metal could experience emotion is insulting. Send this monstrosity away.”
Kai pursed his lips, having a number of choice words to say about her heartlessness, but instead he turned to Torin. “Indeed, let me remove this monstrosity from Her Majesty’s presence and have her reinstated into active status.”
He half expected Torin to chastise him for the sorry escape plan, but Torin seemed too relieved that the argument was over. Kai noticed he’d gone pale and wondered how hard it had been for Torin to dominate his own temper. “Of course. Perhaps Her Majesty would like a tour of the gardens?”
Kai glared at Queen Levana, filling the look with loathing, and clipped his heels together. “Thank you for your considerate gift,” he said with a short bow.
“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.”
Kai left the room with Nainsi at his side. When they had reached the main corridor, he released a guttural scream and slammed his fist into the nearest wall, then fell against it, pressing his forehead against the plaster.
When his breathing was manageable, he turned around, suddenly wanting to cry—from anger, from desperation, from relief. Nainsi was back.
“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you.”
“So it appears, Your Highness.”
Kai shut his eyes. “You don’t even know. The past few days. I was sure our research would be lost.”
“All records seem to be intact, Your Highness.”
“Good. We need to get back to the search right away—it’s more important now than ever.”
He struggled to contain the panic clawing at his insides. His coronation was still nine days away. Queen Levana had not been on Earth for twenty-four hours and she’d already turned their alliance negotiations upside down. What other secrets could she reveal before his coronation, when the role to protect his country would truly fall to him?
His head pounded. He despised her—for everything she was, for everything she’d done, for how she’d turned Earth’s suffering into a game of politics.
But she was wrong if she expected him to become her puppet. He would defy her for as long as he could, in any way that he could. He would find Princess Selene. Dr. Erland would duplicate the antidote. He wouldn’t even dance with Levana at the stupid ball if he could help it—to hell with diplomacy.
Remembering the ball suddenly parted the storm clouds in Kai’s thoughts. Opening one eye, he peered down at the android. “Why didn’t the mechanic come with you?”
“She did,” said Nainsi. “I left her waiting outside the palace. She was not allowed entrance without an official pass.”
“Outside the palace? Is she still there?”
“I suspect so, Your Highness.”
Kai squeezed the vial in his pocket. “I don’t suppose she said anything about the ball? If she’s changed her mind?”
“She did not mention any ball.”
“Right. Well.” Gulping, he freed his hands from his pockets and rubbed his palms down the sides of his pants, realizing how hot his bottled anger had made him. “I really hope she has.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
CINDER CROUCHED AGAINST THE WALL THAT BORDERED THE palace, the coolness from the stone soaking into her T-shirt. The crowd had gone, the only memory of them left in trampled signs. Even the guards had abandoned the courtyard, though the intricate iron gate remained locked. Two stone qilins were perched above Cinder’s head, occasionally sending out a magnetic pulse that hummed in her ears.
Her hand had finally stopped trembling. The warnings across her vision had finally disappeared. But the confusion remained, persistent as ever.
She was Lunar. Fine.
She was a rare breed of Lunar, a shell, who couldn’t twist the thoughts and emotions of others and was immune to the tampering herself.
Fine.
But then why had Levana’s glamour affected her the same as everyone else?
Either Dr. Erland was wrong, or he was lying. Maybe she wasn’t Lunar at all, and he’d been mistaken. Maybe her immunity was due to something else.
She released a frustrated groan. Never had the curiosity to know her background, her history, been so intense. She needed to know the truth.
The humming of the gates on their buried tracks startled her. Cinder looked up, spotting a pristine white android rolling toward her on the cobblestones.
“Linh Cinder?” It held out a scanner.
Blinking, she clambered to her feet, braced against the wall for support. “Yes?” she said, extending her wrist.
The scanner beeped and, without having come to a complete stop, the android turned its torso 180 degrees and started rumbling back toward the palace. “Follow me.”
“Wait—what?” Her gaze darted fearfully up toward the balcony where the Lunar queen had stood.