Torin had started shaking his head. His eyes were shut, as if he couldn’t stand to listen to Kai’s plan anymore. “No. You cannot sacrifice yourself.”
“I’m already sacrificing myself. I won’t let her have my country. There has been peace between the Earthen Union for over a century—I won’t let my decisions be the end of that.” He peeled back his shoulders. “Which is why it’s so important that the Commonwealth be ruled by someone who is smart and fair. The Articles of Unification state that in the event that the last in line to the empire has reason to expect their death without first procuring an heir for the throne, they are to nominate one person to become the new emperor or empress, and the people shall nominate their choices and it will be put to a vote.” He met Torin’s gaze. “I nominated you before we left. Nainsi has my official statement. So…” He gulped. “Good luck with the election.”
“I cannot … I won’t…”
“It’s already done. If you come up with a better plan, I’d love to hear it. But I will not let that woman rule the Commonwealth. I would be honored to die in service of my country.” Kai glanced up at the palace and the throne room balcony jutting out over their heads. “Just as long as I can take her down with me.”
Sixty-Eight
“Why does Cress always get to wear the best clothes?” Iko whined, crossing her arms while Cress practiced walking back and forth in the ridiculously tall platform shoes. “Cress gets to go to a royal wedding. Cress gets to go to a coronation. Cress has all the fun.”
“I’m not going to the coronation,” said Cress, trying to look at her feet without falling over. “We’re just impersonating guests so we can hack into the palace broadcast system.”
“Cress gets to hack into the palace broadcast system.”
“Cress is risking her life to do this.” Cinder threw a pile of shimmering accessories onto the bed. “Do any of these match?”
Iko flopped onto the bed and started pawing through the accessories with desire-filled eyes. “I think these gloves attach to the wing-things,” she said, followed by a pitiful sigh. “I wish my outfit came with fingerless orange elbow-length gloves.”
“These shoes are like stilts,” said Cress, wobbling. “Isn’t there something more practical?”
“I don’t think practical is in the Lunar vocabulary,” said Cinder, diving back into the closet, “but I’ll look.”
They’d managed to find a new pair of boots for Cinder, at least, who had lost hers in the lake. They’d found them stacked in a utility closet along with miscellaneous sporting equipment, or what Cress thought was sporting equipment. Unfortunately, there’d been nothing small enough to fit her, and Iko had insisted they wouldn’t have matched her aristocratic outfit anyway.
“Tell me I don’t look as ridiculous as I feel.” Thorne appeared in the doorway, fidgeting with his cuffs.
Startled, Cress tripped and crashed into Iko, sending them both tumbling onto the floor.
Cinder poked her head out of the closet, surveyed the scene, and bunched up her lips. She disappeared again, muttering, “I’d better find some different shoes.”
Thorne helped Cress and Iko back to their feet. “Maybe ridiculous is the theme of the day,” he said, tilting his head to survey Cress’s outfit, which was part cocktail dress, part butterfly costume. An orange tutu barely reached her mid-thigh and was gaudy enough when paired with a glitz-covered, form-fitting bodice. Two sheer swaths of material had been sewn onto the bodice’s back and did in fact connect to the fingerless orange elbow-length gloves Iko relinquished, so when Cress spread her arms it gave the effect of a pair of black-and-yellow butterfly wings opening up behind her. To top it off, Iko had found a tiny blue hat in the accessories chest that had a pair of springs and feathered balls on top—what Cress assumed were meant to be the antennae.
“I do feel a little better now that I see what you’re wearing.” Thorne adjusted his bow tie. He was in a lean plum-toned suit that was surprisingly flattering on him despite having been dragged out of a stranger’s closet. The bow tie had tiny threaded lights running through the fabric, making the collar of his white shirt glow in different shades of neon. He’d left on his own black military boots.
He looked absurd and sexy, and Cress had to force herself to look away.
“You’ll fit right in, from what I could tell at the feast.” Cinder emerged with a pair of more user-friendly shoes. “They were all wearing crazy things like this at the feast. I don’t doubt that a lot of the clothing was glamour-made, but the fewer elements of your appearance you have to glamour, the easier it is to hold the illusion.”
“Hey, Captain,” said Iko, “stop checking out her legs.”
Cress turned in time to see Thorne’s appreciative grin. Shrugging, he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. “I’m a connoisseur, Iko. Look how tall those shoes make her look.” He hesitated. “Well, tall-ish.”
Flushing, Cress inspected her bare legs.