Then his father had become ill.
No, not ill. His father had the plague. His father was dying, and there was absolutely nothing Kai could do to stop it.
And now this. Nainsi malfunctioning right when he was sure she’d found something useful, something priceless.
Something regarding the whereabouts of Princess Selene.
He knew it was a risk. If Sybil Mira, or any Lunar, learned that he was trying to find the lost princess, it could lead to a political catastrophe between Earth and Luna. He knew that Queen Levana wouldn’t be quick to forgive the fact that Kai was adamantly attempting to usurp her.
But it was a risk worth taking. Finding Selene and putting her back on the Lunar throne was his best chance—and possibly his only chance—of ridding himself of Queen Levana and her threats toward the Commonwealth. Threats of war. Threats of mass enslavement.
Almost worse—threats of a marriage alliance.
It could not be allowed. He had to find the true Lunar heir before it was too late.
He and Nainsi had been researching for months, and though there had been countless false claims and dead ends, lately he’d been sure they were getting somewhere. Nainsi had heard about a Lunar doctor who was suspected of having an involvement with the lost princess’s disappearance, and also a potential relationship with an Earthen woman years before.
It was a thin hope—the thinnest of hopes—but Kai’s instincts told him there was more to it. He’d ordered Nainsi to find out as much information as she could on the doctor and this Earthen woman and then, two days later—nothing.
Nainsi was dead to the world.
It was enough to make him want to put his head through the hover car’s control board.
“Approaching the city center,” lilted the robotic voice, snapping Kai from his thoughts. “Where would you like to deboard?”
He glanced out the window. The streets were cast in shadow from the high-rise buildings in every direction. Storefronts sparkled with netscreen advertisements and pristine escort-droids modeling the latest fashions and gadgets. A block away he could see the edge of the market, all tight-squeezed booths and bustling crowds.
“Here is fine,” he said, reaching into the pack and pulling out the gray hooded sweatshirt he’d smuggled from the palace—the most discreet item of clothing he owned.
The hover swooped to the edge of the street. The magnets hummed as it lowered itself to the ground. “Shall I wait here for your return?”
“Please,” he said, threading his arms through the sleeves and tugging up the zipper. “I shouldn’t be long.”
He considered giving a specific time—If I’m not back in an hour, then I’ve probably been cornered by paparazzi and screaming girls and you should send the royal security squad after me. But even thinking it made him feel melodramatic, so he just pulled the hood over his brow and stepped out of the hover, dragging Nainsi’s pear-shaped body after him.
He hadn’t gone far when his senses were assaulted by the chaos of the market. The smell of lemongrass, ginger, and sizzling meat. The sounds of laughing children and roaring shopkeepers and chiming sales announcements. The sweltering heat that, even in the shade, soaked straight through his sweatshirt and wrapped him in a suffocating cocoon. He unzipped the sweatshirt slightly as he walked, but dared not take down the hood. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself.
And the problem with being the crown prince was that he always drew attention.
Crown prince, and soon-to-be emperor.
No, he couldn’t think of that now. It would cripple him. The thought of losing his father, and to the same devastating plague that had taken his mother years ago. The thought of ascending to the throne. The thought of all the people who would be relying on him to do the right thing, to make the best decisions. It was too much. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He swallowed the rising bile in his throat. He had only one prerogative today: confirm that Linh Cinder was capable of fixing Nainsi.
Once Nainsi was repaired he could proceed with his search for the princess.