“There is one other bit of news I must bring to your attention,” said Aimery, “though it remains under investigation, and I do not wish for it to upset you so near your wedding hour.”
“As long as the cyborg is in our custody,” Levana said around a smile, “nothing more can upset me.”
“I am glad to hear it, My Queen. For we discovered something suspicious on our visit to the mining sector. There was a royal podship docked there and upon further inspection we’ve found the ship was chartered to none other than Sir Jacin Clay.”
Levana turned to give Aimery her full attention. “Go on.”
“We have documentation of this ship leaving Artemisia forty-seven minutes after the death of Princess Winter. Of course, Sir Clay was still here, in the palace, at that time, and we do not know who was piloting it. It also seems suspicious that, no matter who was aboard that ship, they would find themselves in the same sector as the cyborg and her companions.”
Though Aimery’s expression was neutral, it was easy to discern his suspicions.
“We have video footage of Winter’s death, do we not?”
“We do, My Queen. However, as you might recall, we were experiencing technical difficulties that day, with sporadic power outages affecting surveillance throughout the palace. Allow me.”
He approached the netscreen Levana had long ago commissioned to be put into the stunning frame that had once housed her sister’s mirror, before all mirrors were destroyed. A moment later, Levana was watching Jacin and Winter inside the menagerie. The wolf prowled behind them. Winter kissed the guard with such passion it made Levana snarl. Then Jacin raised the knife and plunged it into her back. Winter’s body slumped and he lowered her to the ground with all the gentleness of a man in love. Blood began to pool beneath her.
The video ended.
She raised an eyebrow. “She is dead, then.”
“Perhaps. But I have concerns that this death might have been staged. You see, this is where the video ends—we have no footage of Jacin removing the body or killing the wolf to cover his tracks, as he claims to have done. It does seem a convenient time for this camera, in particular, to have stopped functioning.”
Levana inhaled sharply. “I see. Detain Sir Clay in a holding cell for now. I will question him after tonight’s feast.”
“I had already taken the liberty of having the guard sent for, Your Majesty, and I’m afraid he has gone missing.”
This, more than anything, gave her pause. “Missing?”
“He was to report for duty two hours ago, but he has not been seen. Of those guards we have spoken to, no one claims to have seen him since he finished last night’s shift.”
Levana’s gaze unfocused as she glanced out her windows, toward her beautiful lake, her beautiful city.
Jacin had run.
Only guilty men run.
It had to mean that Winter was alive.
Her teeth clenched with loathing—not only for her stepdaughter’s continued existence, but at the audacity of a weak-minded guard to play her for a fool. But she forced herself to breathe and let the hatred ebb from her knotted shoulders.
“No matter,” she said. “The princess is dead so long as the people believe she is dead. This changes nothing. I have much more important matters to tend to.”
“Of course.”
“Should Jacin Clay be found, he is to be killed on sight. Any word of the princess and I wish to be informed immediately.”
Aimery bowed. “Yes, My Queen. I will leave you to your preparations. Congratulations on your coming happiness.”
Levana’s smile was not forced. Her coming happiness. She liked the sound of that very much.
Aimery turned to go.
Levana gasped. “Wait, one more thing.”
Aimery paused.
“Jacin Clay’s parents are to be executed for treason—publicly, as a reminder that such betrayals will not be tolerated. Have the guards in their sector do it now, so their deaths won’t taint tonight’s wedding broadcast.” She smoothed the front of her bodice. “Jacin will know that the fault of their deaths lies with him.”
Forty-Six
Kai wasn’t sure how he’d ended up dressed like a groom again. He said nothing as the stylists fidgeted with his hair and clothes. He couldn’t have picked any of them out of a lineup once they’d gone.
Cinder was dead. That, or Levana was keeping her somewhere. He didn’t know which would be worse.
Cinder.
Her name whispered over and over in his thoughts, each time a fresh thorn in his flesh.
Brave, determined Cinder. Smart, resourceful, sarcastic Cinder.
He refused to believe that she was dead. What did a finger indicate, really? He trudged through every faint possibility. It was a fake finger Levana had crafted to torment him. Or Cinder had lost it in a battle but the rest of her had gotten away. Or … surely there must be some other explanation. She couldn’t be dead.
Not Cinder.