Nineteen
Kai scooped his hair off his brow, staring at the holograph that floated above the conference table with a mixture of horror and awe. Part of him wanted to laugh. Not at all because it was funny, but because there didn’t seem to be any better reaction.
The holograph showed the planet Earth. And all around it were hundreds of small yellow lights, many clumped above Earth’s most-populated cities.
Hundreds of tiny spaceships.
They were surrounded.
“And they’re all Lunar?” he said. “We’re sure?”
“Without a doubt,” said European Prime Minister Bromstad, his face grouped with the other Earthen Union leaders on the massive netscreen. “What’s most disconcerting is that we were given zero indication of their approach. It’s as if they all just … flickered into existence, ten thousand kilometers over our heads.”
“Or,” said Queen Camilla of the United Kingdom, “as if they were there all along, but we were unable to detect them. Haven’t we been hearing for years about these Lunar ships sneaking into our atmosphere, bypassing all of our security measures?”
“Does it matter how long they’ve been there, or how they got there in the first place?” asked American Republic President Vargas. “They’re obviously there now, and this is obviously a threat.”
Kai squeezed his eyes shut. “But why? She’s getting exactly what she wants. Why threaten us now? Why show us her hand?”
“Perhaps to ensure the Commonwealth doesn’t back out of the marriage alliance at the last minute?” Bromstad suggested.
“But she has absolutely no reason—” Kai huffed and dropped his hand to the back of his chair … what had once been his father’s chair. He was far too restless to sit down as he glanced around at his cabinet members and advisers, his country’s highly educated experts, who were looking as baffled as he felt. “What do you all make of this?”
His experts traded looks among themselves, before Chairman Deshal Huy started to drum his fingers against the table. “It does seem to indicate that they’re sending us a message of some sort.”
“Perhaps this is their way of RSVPing for the wedding,” muttered Governor-General Williams from Australia.
“Perhaps we should ask them,” said Konn Torin, tapping a finger against his brow. “If Luna is to become a peaceful ally of the Earthen Union, we might as well start opening the lines of communication.”
“Naturally,” said Africa’s Prime Minister Kamin. Kai could all but hear her rolling her eyes. “As they’ve been so open with us in the past.”
“And you have a better idea?”
“I certainly do,” said Williams. “This could be our best chance to reciprocate the recent invasion. We should coordinate a full-scale attack—take out as many of these ships as we can. Show Luna that they can’t keep threatening us every time Levana throws another fit. If they want a fight, we’ll fight.”
“War,” said Prime Minister Kamin. “You’re suggesting we start a war.”
“They started the war. I’m suggesting we end it.”
Kamin sniffed. “And you think our militaries are prepared to launch an attack against an entire fleet of Lunar ships? We don’t have the faintest idea what type of weaponry they have, and I think the recent attacks illustrated that they’re not going to fight by any strategies we’re familiar with. They’re unpredictable, and as much as it pains me to admit, our military expertise has suffered from generations of peace. Our numbers are down, few of our men have been trained for space combat—”
“I agree with Australia,” interrupted Queen Camilla. “This could be the only time we ever have the element of surprise on our side.”
“Surprise?” barked President Vargas. “They’re surrounding us. What if they’re hoping that we attack them? What if all this drivel about the marriage alliance has been a ruse, just to keep us distracted while they move into position?”
Kai’s knuckles whitened on the back of the chair. “The alliance isn’t a ruse, and nobody is starting a war!”
Camilla smirked. “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten that the young emperor is so very knowledgeable in these matters.”
His blood began to simmer. “This holograph indicates that while these ships may have Earth surrounded, they are still outside the territorial designations of the Earthen Union. Correct?”
“For now,” said Governor-General Williams.
“Right. Which means that for now, these ships aren’t violating any terms that we’ve established with Luna. I’m not saying Levana isn’t taunting us or threatening us, but it would be foolish of us to react to it without first coming up with some sort of strategy.”
Williams shook his head. “By the time we’ve finished strategizing, we very well may have been obliterated.”
“Fine,” said Kai, squaring his shoulders. “The Treaty of Bremen states we need a majority rule to execute an act of war against any political entity. All in favor to attack these Lunar ships, say aye.”
“Aye,” said Williams and Camilla in unison. The other three leaders remained silent, but Kai could tell from their pinched expressions that no one was happy about it.
“Measure fails.”
“Then what do you propose we do?” asked Queen Camilla.
“There is a Lunar delegate staying in the palace right now,” said Kai, cringing to himself. “I’ll speak with him. See if I can figure out what’s going on. The alliance negotiations are between Luna and the Commonwealth, so just let me handle it.”
He canceled the communication link before the other leaders could argue, or see how frustrated he was becoming. Frustrated that he never knew what Levana was thinking or what she was going to do next. Frustrated that he was bowing to her every whim and yet she still decided to pull a stunt like this, for no apparent reason other than to get the rest of the Union all riled up. Frustrated that, if he were honest with himself, a large part of him agreed that attacking those ships might be the best course of action.
But if war broke out, they had no chance of completing the peace alliance, which meant no hope for getting their hands on the letumosis antidote.
He glanced around at the other men and women sitting around the holograph. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sounding almost calm. “That will be all.”
“Your Majesty,” said Nainsi, rolling into the boardroom as the experts filed out, “you have a meeting scheduled with Tashmi-ji? in six minutes.”
He stifled a groan. “Let me guess. We must be discussing table linens today?”
“I believe catering staff, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, right, that sounds like an excellent use of my time.” He clipped his portscreen to his belt. “Let her know I’m on my way.”
* * *
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me out here,” said Tashmi Priya, bowing. “I thought the fresh air might help you focus on some of the final decisions to be made in regards to the ceremony.”
Kai smiled wryly. “That’s a very diplomatic way of pointing out that I haven’t been taking this wedding planning very seriously. Which is probably true.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, amazed at how good the crisp breeze felt on his face. He was still flushed with irritation after the meeting with the Union leaders. “Although, it is nice to be out here. I feel like I haven’t left my office all month.”
“I suspect there is security footage somewhere to prove that.”
They passed by a koi pond, shadowed by the drooping branches of a weeping willow and surrounded by a patch of the gardens that had been recently dug up and tilled, prepared to replant for the coming autumn season. Smelling the fresh earth, Kai was momentarily baffled at how the life of the palace continued—how the life of the city and the Commonwealth and all of Earth had gone on, even while he’d locked himself in that office and racked his brain for some way to protect it all.
“Your Majesty?”
He started. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He gestured at a simple stone bench. “Shall we?”
Priya adjusted the fabric of her sari as she sat down. The gold and orange fish swarmed to the rocky barrier of the pond, hoping for food.
“I wanted to speak with you about an idea I’ve had regarding the hired vendors that will be assisting with the wedding ceremony, but it’s one that I don’t think Her Lunar Majesty would approve. Nevertheless, I thought the decision should be yours.”
“Hired vendors?”
“Caterers, footmen, ushers, florists, and the like.”
Kai adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “Oh, right. Go on.”
“I thought it might be prudent to staff the event with a mix of humans and androids.”
He shook his head. “Levana would never stand for it.”
“Yes. That’s why I would suggest we use escort-droids that she would not recognize as such.”
He stiffened. “Escorts?”
“We would use only the most realistic models. We could even place special orders for those with more humanoid characteristics. Complexion flaws, natural hair and eye colors, varying body types and bone structures. I would be sure to find androids that wouldn’t draw attention to themselves.”
Kai opened his mouth to refute, again, but paused. Escort-droids were designed mostly for companionship. It would be an insult of the highest order if Levana became aware that they were at her wedding ceremony.
But …
“They can’t be brainwashed.”
Priya was silent for a moment, before continuing, “We could also use them to record the proceedings, in case Her Majesty or her guests attempt anything … untoward.”
“Has Levana insisted on having no cameras again?” The queen hated being recorded, and she’d demanded there be no recording devices at the annual ball when she was his special guest.
“No, Your Majesty, the queen recognizes the importance of this event being broadcast on an international scope. She’s put up no resistance on that front.”
He released a breath.
“However, with androids we could ensure that we’ll have eyes everywhere, so to speak.” She shrugged. “Hopefully this would be a precaution that is unnecessary.”
Kai fidgeted with his cuff. It was a smart idea. The most powerful men and women on Earth would be at this ceremony, making it awfully easy for Levana to abuse her powers of manipulation. Having loyal staff who couldn’t be affected could be an insurance policy against a worldwide political catastrophe.
But Levana hated androids. If she found out, she would be livid, and he’d like to avoid any more outbursts from the queen if he could.
“Thank you for the recommendation,” he said. “When do you need a decision?”
“The end of this week, if we’re to place the order in time.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Also, I wanted to tell you of a small realization I had this morning that amounts to one more benefit in broadcasting the nuptials.”
“What’s that?”
“Her Majesty refuses to remove her veil while in the presence of any recording devices, and so she will wear it throughout the wedding and coronation.” Reaching forward, she patted Kai’s wrist. “Which means you won’t have to kiss her.”
He couldn’t help a sharp laugh. The knowledge did relieve a bit of his terror, but it was also a painful reminder. He figured he would still have to kiss her eventually. The thought made him sick.
“Thank you, Tashmi-ji?. That does make it slightly less horrific.”
Her whole face softened. “May I speak openly, Your Majesty?”
“Of course.”
She withdrew her hand and knotted her fingers on her lap. “I don’t mean to overstep any professional boundaries, but I have a son, you see. He’s about a year older than you are.”
Kai gulped, surprised at a tinge of guilt. He had never imagined who this woman might be when she left the palace every day. He had never bothered to picture her with a family.
“Lately, I’ve tried to imagine what this would be like on him,” Priya continued, gazing up at the drooping tree branches. The leaves were changing to gold, and every now and then a breeze would shake some loose and send them pinwheeling down to the pond. “What kind of toll would be paid for a young man with these responsibilities, forced to make these decisions.” She took in a deep breath, as if she regretted her words before she said them. “As a mother, I’m worried about you.”
He met her gaze, and his heart lurched.
“Thank you,” he said, “but you needn’t worry. I’m doing my best.”
She smiled gently. “Oh, I know you are. But, Your Majesty, I’ve been planning this wedding for twelve days, and I’ve seen you age years in that time. It pains me to think how much harder everything will become after the wedding.”
“I’ll have Torin still. And the cabinet, and the province reps … I’m not alone.”
Even as he said it, he felt the jolt of a lie.
He wasn’t alone. Was he?
Anxiety crawled up his throat. Of course he wasn’t. He had an entire country behind him, and all the people in the palace, and …
No one.
No one could truly understand what he was risking, what sacrifices he may be making. Torin was smart enough to realize it, of course, but at the end of the day he still had his own home to return to.
And Kai hadn’t confided in him that he and Nainsi were searching for Princess Selene again. He would never tell Torin that a part of him hoped Cinder would be safe. And he would never tell a single living soul how terrified he was, every moment of every day. How afraid he was that he was making an enormous mistake.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Priya said. “I’d hoped, if it wasn’t too forward of me, that I might offer some motherly advice.”
He pressed his fingertips onto the cool stone of the bench. “Perhaps I could use some of that.”
Priya adjusted her sari on her shoulder, the gold embroidery catching in the sunlight. “Try to find something that makes you happy. Your life is not going to get easier once Queen Levana is your wife. If you had even one small thing that brought you happiness, or hope that things could someday be better, then maybe that would be enough to sustain you. Otherwise, I fear it will be too easy for the queen to win.”
“And what would you suggest?”
Priya shrugged. “Perhaps this garden is a good place to start?”
Following her gesture, Kai took in the stalks of bamboo bowing over the stone walls, the myriad lilies beginning to fade after summer’s long showing, the bright fish that clustered and pressed against each other, ignorant of the turmoil in the world above their small pond. It was beautiful, but …
“You aren’t convinced,” said Priya.
He forced a smile. “It’s good advice. I just don’t know if I have the energy to be happy right now, about anything.”
Priya seemed sad at his response, though not surprised. “Please, think about it. You deserve a respite every now and then. We all do, but you more than anyone.”
He shrugged, but it had no enthusiasm. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Priya stood, and Kai rose to join her. “Thank you for your time. Let me know your decision on the escort-droids.”
Kai waited until she’d returned to the palace before settling onto the bench again. A slender golden leaf fluttered into his lap and he picked it up, twirling it between his fingers.
Priya’s advice had merit. One bit of happiness, of hope, could make the difference in preserving his sanity, but it was a request easier made than fulfilled.
He did have some happiness to look forward to. Seeing Levana’s signature on the Treaty of Bremen. Distributing her antidote and eradicating his planet of this awful plague.
But those victories would come hand-in-hand with a lifetime of attending celebratory balls with Levana at his side, and next time, Cinder wouldn’t be there to distract him. Though admittedly, that lifetime might be cut shorter than expected. It was a morbid thought, that his premature death would at least keep him from too many painful dances.
He sighed, his thoughts circling back to Cinder. He couldn’t avoid thinking about her these days, maybe because her name was at the top of every report, every newsfeed. The girl he’d invited to the ball. The girl he’d wanted to dance with.
He thought of that moment, spotting her at the top of the staircase, her hair and dress drenched from the rain. Noticing that she wore the gloves he’d given her. A smile tugged at him. It probably wasn’t what Priya had in mind—the most hopeless situation of all. His relationship with Cinder, if it could even be called that, had been fleeting and bittersweet.
Maybe if things were different. Maybe if he wasn’t marrying Levana. Maybe if he had a chance to ask Cinder the questions that plagued him: Had it all been a deception? Had she ever considered telling him the truth?
Maybe then he could imagine a future in which they could start again.
But the engagement was very real, and Cinder was …
Cinder was …
He jerked forward, nearly crushing the leaf in his fist.
Cinder was searching for Princess Selene. Had maybe even found her.
That knowledge was fraught with its own questions. What were Cinder’s motives and what was she doing now? How would the people of Luna react when Princess Selene returned? What kind of person had she become? Would she even want her throne back?
Despite the lingering doubts, he did believe that Selene was alive. He believed she was the true heir to the Lunar throne, and that she could end Levana’s reign. He believed that Cinder, who had proven to be the most resilient and resourceful person he’d ever known, actually stood a chance of finding her, and keeping her safe, and revealing her identity to the world.
It may have been a fragile hope, but right now, it was the best hope he had.