Iko grunted in a most unladylike way, drawing everyone’s gaze to her. “I get stabbed and she gets to marry Kai. That just figures.”
“The coronation ceremony,” Aimery continued, “in which we will welcome Emperor Kaito as our honored king consort, and Her Majesty Queen Levana will be bestowed with the title of empress of Earth’s Eastern Commonwealth, will take place two days hence at sunrise.” Aimery’s eyes took on an arrogant glint. “Our illustrious queen asks that the people of Luna partake in tonight’s celebration. Tonight’s wedding feast shall be broadcast across all sectors, during which we have a special trial planned for the festivities. This broadcast will be mandatory viewing for all citizens and shall commence in twenty minutes from the end of this announcement.”
The video cut off.
“Special trial?” said Cress.
“It’s Cinder,” said Thorne, glowering at the holograph. “She has Cinder, and Wolf, too. We expect her to have them publicly executed as a way of quelling the insurrection.”
A chill swept down Cress’s spine. Twenty minutes. It would take longer than that to get back to the palace.
“We’re going to rescue her,” said Iko, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Sorry,” said Jacin, looking like he actually meant it. “But if we only have twenty minutes, we’re already too late.”
Forty-Nine
Cinder jabbed her finger’s screwdriver into the wall beside the cell door. A thumbnail’s worth of dust and rock chipped away, joining the pile at her feet. The lava rock was hard, but her titanium tools were harder, and her resolve was the hardest it had ever been.
She was angry. She was frustrated. She was afraid.
She was distraught over Maha’s death, which kept replaying in her memory, making her want to jab the screwdriver into her own temple to make it stop. She had looked at the raid on RM-9 from every angle, torturing herself with what-ifs and implausible scenarios, trying to find some way to bring Maha back to life. To free herself and Wolf. To protect her friends. To defeat Levana.
She was aware of how futile it was.
Maybe Aimery was right. Maybe she should have controlled everyone in that sector from the start. It would have made her a tyrant, but it also would have kept them alive.
She was nauseated from the rank smell coming from the bucket against the wall. She was annoyed that Levana’s goons had taken her best weapon—her cybernetic pointer finger with the gun attachment—and locked her up with her stepmother and stepsister, who had barely spoken since she’d arrived.
Rationally, she knew there was no way she could dig through to the door’s hinges before the guards came for her. She knew she was working herself into a frenzy for no logical reason. But she couldn’t bring herself to slump to the ground, defeated.
Like they were.
Another rock chip crumbled down the wall.
Cinder blew a lock of hair out of her face, but it fell right back down.
According to the clock in her head, she had been in this cell for over twenty-four hours. She had not slept. The wedding, she knew, would be over by now.
The thought tied her stomach into knots.
It occurred to her that if she had let Levana come and take her from New Beijing, this was where she would have ended up anyway. She still would have been executed. She was still going to die.
She’d tried to run. She’d tried to fight. And all she got for it was a spaceship full of friends who she’d now be taking down with her.
“Why did he call you Princess?”
Cinder paused, glaring at the pathetic scratch marks she’d made. It was Pearl who had spoken, her voice fragile as she broke their silence for the first time in hours.
Pushing the miscreant hair back with her sweat-dampened wrist, Cinder glanced at Pearl and Adri, not bothering to hide her disdain. She had already hardened herself to any sort of sympathy for them. Every time a twinge struck her, she called up the memory of Adri demanding that Cinder hobble around footless for an entire week, as a reminder that she “wasn’t human.” Or the time Pearl had thrown Cinder’s toolbox into a crowded street, ruining the silk gloves Kai had given her.
She kept reminding herself that whatever was going to happen to them, they deserved it.
It didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, thinking about it was making her feel cruel and petty, and also giving her a headache.
She shook it off.
“I’m Princess Selene,” she answered, turning back to her work.
Pearl laughed, a short hysterical sound, full of disbelief.
Adri stayed silent.
The cell filled with Cinder’s persistent scrape scrape clatter, scrape scrape clatter. Her pile grew larger, pebble by hard-earned pebble.
She was never getting out of here.
“Garan knew.” Adri’s voice was brittle.
Cinder froze again. Garan had been Adri’s husband, the man who had made the decision to adopt Cinder. She’d barely known him.