Cinder (The Lunar Chronicles #1) - Page 26/49

Kai tried his best to remain neutral under her accusation, but he couldn’t keep a twitch from developing above his right eye. “I’m afraid I do not have the Interplanetary Agreement memorized in full. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the article in question?”

She took a slow breath through flared nostrils. Even then—even with all the hatred and anger smeared across her face—she was stunning. “Article 17 states that no party of the agreement shall knowingly shelter or protect Lunar fugitives.”

“Lunar fugitives?” Kai glanced at Torin, but his adviser’s face was neutral. “Why would you think we’re sheltering Lunar fugitives?”

“Because I’ve just seen one in your courtyard, along with those insolent protestors. This is not to be tolerated.”

Kai stood and folded his arms over his chest. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of Lunars in my country. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Which leads me to believe that you’ve been turning a blind eye to the problem, just as your father did.”

“How can I turn a blind eye to something I’ve never heard of?”

Torin cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I can assure you we monitor all spacecrafts both coming to and leaving the Commonwealth. Though we can’t deny the possibility of some Lunars being smuggled in under our radar, I can promise that we’ve done everything in our power to comply with the Interplanetary Agreement. Besides, even if a Lunar fugitive had come to reside in the Commonwealth, it seems unlikely they would choose to risk being discovered by coming to a protest when they knew you would be present. Perhaps you have been mistaken.”

The queen’s eyes smoldered. “I know my own when I see them, and right now there is one in these city walls.” She pointed a finger toward the balcony. “I want her found and brought to me.”

“Right,” said Kai, “that’ll be no problem in a city of two and a half million people. Let me just go dig out my special Lunar detector, and I’ll get right on that.”

Levana tilted her head back so she could peer down her nose at Kai, even though he was taller than she was. “You do not wish to try my patience with your sarcasm, young prince.”

He flexed his jaw.

“If you are incapable of finding her, then I will have a regiment of my own guards dispersed to Earth, and they will find her.”

“That will not be necessary,” said Torin. “We apologize for doubting you, Your Majesty, and are eager to fulfill our country’s part of the agreement. Please allow us time to prepare for the coronation and the festival, and we will begin our search for the fugitive as soon as resources allow.”

Levana narrowed her eyes at Kai. “Do you intend to always let your adviser make your decisions for you?”

“No,” said Kai, allowing a cold smile. “Eventually, I’ll have an empress for that.”

Queen Levana’s gaze softened, and Kai barely bit back his next words. And it won’t be you.

“Fine,” said Levana, turning away and seating herself beside her thaumaturge. “I will expect her, along with any other Lunar fugitives in the country, delivered to Luna one moon cycle after your coronation.”

“Fine,” said Kai, hoping that Levana would forget this conversation before the time came. Lunars in New Beijing—he’d never heard anything so absurd.

The anger vanished so completely from Levana’s face that it seemed the past few minutes had been a dream. She crossed her legs, so that the slit in her sheer dress displayed a swath of milk-white skin. Kai set his jaw and stared out the window, not knowing if he was going to blush or gag.

“Speaking of your coronation,” said the queen, “I have brought you a gift.”

“How thoughtful,” he deadpanned.

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if I should save it for the big night, but I’ve determined that it might give the wrong impression if I were to withhold it.”

Unable to deny his piqued curiosity, Kai eyed the queen. “Is that so?”

She inclined her head, auburn curls cascading over her bosom, and extended her fingers toward her second thaumaturge, the man in the red coat. He produced a glass vial, no larger than Kai’s pinkie finger, from his sleeve and placed it on Levana’s palm.

“I want you to know,” said Levana, “that I have a very keen interest in the welfare of the Commonwealth, and watching your struggle with the letumosis disease has been heartbreaking.”

Kai dug his nails into his palms.

“You are probably not aware, but I have had a research team dedicated to studying the disease for some years now, and it appears that my scientists have finally discovered an antidote.”

Blood rushed to Kai’s head. “What?”

Levana pinched the vial between her thumb and forefinger and held it out to him. “This should be enough to cure one adult male,” she said, then clicked her tongue. “Awful timing, isn’t it?”

The world spun. Kai’s fingers itched to reach out and strangle her until his entire arms were shaking.

“Go ahead,” said Levana, a persistent warmth behind her gaze. “Take it.”

Kai snatched the vial away from her. “How long have you had this?”

The queen’s brow arched upward. “Why—it was only confirmed as a true antidote hours before my departure.”

She was lying. She was not even trying to hide the fact that she was lying.

Witch.

“Your Highness,” Torin said quietly, placing a firm hand on Kai’s shoulder. At first gentle, then squeezing—warning. Kai’s pulse began to filter the fantasies of murder, but only barely.

Levana folded her hands in her lap. “That vial is your gift. I hope you will find it helpful, young prince. I believe it is in both of our interests to rid your planet of this disease. My scientists could have thousands of dosages prepared by month’s end. However, such an undertaking, coupled with six years’ worth of work and resources, has put quite a strain on my own country, and so I’m sure you’ll understand the need for compensation. That will require further negotiations.”

Kai’s lungs constricted. “You would withhold this? When so many are dying?” It was a stupid question. She’d already withheld it long enough—what was it to her if more Earthens suffered in the meantime?

“You have much to learn about politics. I think you will soon discover that it is all about give and take, my dear handsome prince.”

His pulse pounded against his temples. He knew his face had gone red, that his anger was playing right into her game, but he didn’t care. How dare she use this as a political bargaining chip? How dare she?

Sybil stood suddenly. “We have a guest.”

Releasing a pent-up breath, Kai followed Sybil’s gaze to the doorway, glad to look away from the queen, and gasped. “Nainsi!”

Nainsi’s sensor flashed. “Your Highness, I apologize for my interruption.”

Kai shook his head, trying to dispel his surprise. “How—when—?”

“My consciousness has been restored for one hour and forty-seven minutes,” said the android. “And I am now reporting for duty. Might I offer my condolences on the untimely loss of Emperor Rikan. My heart is broken from the news.”

Kai heard Queen Levana snort behind him. “The idea that a pile of metal could experience emotion is insulting. Send this monstrosity away.”

Kai pursed his lips, having a number of choice words to say about her heartlessness, but instead he turned to Torin. “Indeed, let me remove this monstrosity from Her Majesty’s presence and have her reinstated into active status.”

He half expected Torin to chastise him for the sorry escape plan, but Torin seemed too relieved that the argument was over. Kai noticed he’d gone pale and wondered how hard it had been for Torin to dominate his own temper. “Of course. Perhaps Her Majesty would like a tour of the gardens?”

Kai glared at Queen Levana, filling the look with loathing, and clipped his heels together. “Thank you for your considerate gift,” he said with a short bow.

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.”

Kai left the room with Nainsi at his side. When they had reached the main corridor, he released a guttural scream and slammed his fist into the nearest wall, then fell against it, pressing his forehead against the plaster.

When his breathing was manageable, he turned around, suddenly wanting to cry—from anger, from desperation, from relief. Nainsi was back.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you.”

“So it appears, Your Highness.”

Kai shut his eyes. “You don’t even know. The past few days. I was sure our research would be lost.”

“All records seem to be intact, Your Highness.”

“Good. We need to get back to the search right away—it’s more important now than ever.”

He struggled to contain the panic clawing at his insides. His coronation was still nine days away. Queen Levana had not been on Earth for twenty-four hours and she’d already turned their alliance negotiations upside down. What other secrets could she reveal before his coronation, when the role to protect his country would truly fall to him?

His head pounded. He despised her—for everything she was, for everything she’d done, for how she’d turned Earth’s suffering into a game of politics.

But she was wrong if she expected him to become her puppet. He would defy her for as long as he could, in any way that he could. He would find Princess Selene. Dr. Erland would duplicate the antidote. He wouldn’t even dance with Levana at the stupid ball if he could help it—to hell with diplomacy.

Remembering the ball suddenly parted the storm clouds in Kai’s thoughts. Opening one eye, he peered down at the android. “Why didn’t the mechanic come with you?”

“She did,” said Nainsi. “I left her waiting outside the palace. She was not allowed entrance without an official pass.”

“Outside the palace? Is she still there?”

“I suspect so, Your Highness.”

Kai squeezed the vial in his pocket. “I don’t suppose she said anything about the ball? If she’s changed her mind?”

“She did not mention any ball.”

“Right. Well.” Gulping, he freed his hands from his pockets and rubbed his palms down the sides of his pants, realizing how hot his bottled anger had made him. “I really hope she has.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

CINDER CROUCHED AGAINST THE WALL THAT BORDERED THE palace, the coolness from the stone soaking into her T-shirt. The crowd had gone, the only memory of them left in trampled signs. Even the guards had abandoned the courtyard, though the intricate iron gate remained locked. Two stone qilins were perched above Cinder’s head, occasionally sending out a magnetic pulse that hummed in her ears.