When she and Iko entered the spaceship docks that were located beneath the palace, the Rampion was the first thing she saw. It was enormous compared to most of the small royal podships lined up in neat rows. Its metal plating was beat-up and dingy, its cargo-toting body almost cumbersome when compared to the sleek designs that surrounded it. But it was beautiful, and its lowered cargo ramp was more welcoming than any red carpet.
Thorne and Cress were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, and when Cress and Iko spotted each other they shared a squeal. Thorne and Cinder shared a cringe, and then they were all smiling and embracing as if they hadn’t seen each other in years—even though they still got together with some regularity. Thorne and Cress’s role in distributing the letumosis antidote to Earth brought them to Artemisia every time there was a new breakout, and it was those intermittent moments of easy friendship that had helped to keep Cinder sane as she struggled to grasp the intricacies of Lunar transportation systems, trade policies, and educational mandates.
With his arms draped over Cinder’s and Iko’s shoulders, Thorne guided them up the ramp. “How does it feel to be a layperson again, Miss Linh?”
“Wonderful,” she said. “I never want to hear the words Your Majesty ever again.”
“Never? Never ever?” Thorne quirked an eyebrow at her. “What if there was an Imperial thrown in between them? Would that change your mind?”
Cinder clenched her jaw, glad that his teasing couldn’t rile a blush from her. With a sharp elbow jab to his side, she extricated herself from beneath his arm. “How’s the ship been holding up?”
“Nice dodge,” said Thorne, dropping his other arm from Iko and hooking a thumb over his belt. “But as your question is pertinent, I’ll allow it. There’s actually been a rattle in the compression system for the past month or so.”
Cinder glanced up at the ceiling of the cargo bay, even though she couldn’t hear anything with the systems powered down.
“I told him to take it to a mechanic when we were in Dublin last week,” said Cress.
“And I told her that I already have a mechanic,” said Thorne, pointing at Cinder.
Cress shrugged apologetically.
“It’s fine,” said Cinder. “I kind of miss the work, actually. I’ll check it out when we’re in the air.”
Thorne clapped his hands. “Great, then let’s get this diplomatic envoy started. Ship, raise the ramp! You all just sit back and relax and we’ll be on Earth in no time.” He turned to head for the cockpit, adding over his shoulder, “I’ve been practicing takeoffs, by the way. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Cress turned back to Iko and Cinder with a grimace. “He hasn’t really gotten any better,” she whispered. “Let’s go back to the crew quarters. There’s more to hold on to back there.”
Cress took the lead, walking the narrow corridor of the Rampion with the air of a hostess welcoming important guests into her home. Cinder grinned at her back, thinking of what a change it was from the first time Cress had been aboard the Rampion—all meek and awkward and barely able to say more than two words without hiding behind Thorne.
She took them to one of the small crew quarters—a room long left empty. In fact, as Cress was opening the door, it occurred to Cinder that this had been her room for the brief time she’d sought sanctuary on the ship. She stepped inside with a sense of nostalgic awe … and promptly began to laugh.
The room was full of white crepe paper and tulle, unburned candles and glass lanterns, streamers and small silk bags overflowing with sugared almonds.
Iko gasped and trailed a finger over an enormous tulle bow. “Is this all for the wedding?”
Cress nodded, but her expression was worried as she looked around at the scattered decorations. “Wolf told us to bring whatever we thought might be needed, so we stopped at a wedding supply store in the Republic and just about cleaned out their stock.” Chewing on her lower lip, she glanced back at Iko. “Once we got it all piled in here, though, I started to wonder if it was maybe all a bit on the gaudy side?”
Iko shrugged. “We can work with gaudy.”
The Rampion began to rumble. Cress and Iko each took a spot on the lower bunk bed that took up one wall of the cabin, but Cinder made her way through the jumble of rose-petal-stuffed baskets and empty glass vases and stacked ivory linens until she came to the round window at the back of the room.
Cress was right. Thorne’s takeoffs were still horrendous. But Cinder didn’t move away from that window until the white city of Artemisia was nothing but a glint of light on the moon’s cratered surface.