“I wish you were coming with us.”
“Yeah, me too, but we can’t risk it.”
“I know. It’s just nice to have a mechanic on board. In case anything, you know … breaks.” He scratched his ear.
“Oh, that’s why you want me there. How flattering.” Cinder wrapped the cord around the gauge and returned it to a cabinet bolted to the wall.
“That, and I’m going to miss you.” His voice had gone soft, and it warmed the base of her stomach.
“With any luck, we’ll see each other again soon.”
“I know.”
Cinder peeled off her work gloves and shoved them into her back pocket. There was still a tinge of panic at the action—her brain reminding her, out of habit, that she wasn’t supposed to remove the gloves in front of anyone, especially Kai—but she ignored it. Kai didn’t blink at the unveiling of her cyborg hand, like he didn’t even notice it anymore.
She knew she was thinking about it less and less. Sometimes she was even surprised upon seeing a flash of metal in the corner of her eye when she went to pick something up. It was strange. She’d always been aware of it before, mortified that someone might see it.
“Are you scared?” she asked, pulling a wrench from her tool belt.
“Terrified,” he said, but with a nonchalance that made her feel better about her own insides being wound into tight little knots. “But I’m ready to go back. I’m sure Torin is about to have a heart attack. And…” He shrugged. “I’m a little homesick.”
“They’ll be glad to have you back.” Cinder knelt beside the ship, checking the bolts on the landing gear. She fit the wrench onto one, two, three bolts—none were loose. “Do you know what you’re going to say to Levana?”
Kai crouched beside her, elbows braced against his knees. “I’m going to tell her I’ve fallen for one of my captors and the wedding is off.”
Cinder’s arm froze.
He smirked. “At least, that’s what I wish I could tell her.”
She blew a lock of hair out of her face and finished checking the bolts, before moving to the other side of the ship to repeat the process.
“I’m going to tell her I had nothing to do with the kidnapping,” said Kai, donning what Cinder had come to think of as his emperor voice. “I’m in no way affiliated with you or the crew and I did my best to bargain for a quick release. I was a victim, held hostage, unable to escape. I’ll probably make up something about inhumane treatment.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Then I’ll beg her to marry me. Again.” His lip curled with disgust.
Cinder couldn’t blame him. The more she thought of it, the more she wanted to hijack this podship and head for Mars.
“When I see you again,” said Kai, “I’ll have clothes for everyone and new plating for Iko. If you think of anything else you need, Cress thinks she can get me an encrypted comm.” He inhaled deeply. “Whatever happens, I’m on your side.”
The sentiment both encouraged her and sent a shock of anxiety through her nerves. “I’m sorry to put you in so much danger.”
“You’re not,” he said. “She was already going to kill me.”
“You could try sounding a little more concerned when you say that.”
“What is there to be concerned about?” His eyes glinted. “You’re going to rescue me long before that happens.”
Finished with the bolts, she stood and shoved the wrench back into her belt.
“Cinder…”
She froze, disconcerted at the serious edge in his voice.
“There’s something I have to say before I go. In case—”
“Don’t. Don’t you even think this will be the last time we see each other.”
A wistful smile touched his mouth, but quickly fled again. “I want to apologize.”
“For suggesting this might be the last time we see each other? Because that is cruel, when here I am, trying to get some work done, and—”
“Cinder, listen to me.”
She clenched her jaw shut and allowed Kai to take her shoulders, his thumbs tender against her collarbone. “I’m sorry about what happened at the ball. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I … I said those things.”
Cinder looked away. Though so much had changed between them since that night, it still felt like an ice pick in her heart when she remembered the way he’d looked at her, and his horrified words: You’re even more painful to look at than she is.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. You were in shock.”
“I was an idiot. I’m ashamed at how I treated you. I should have had more faith in you.”
“Please. You barely knew me. Then to find out all at once that I’m cyborg and Lunar … I wouldn’t have trusted me either. Besides, you were under a lot of stress and—”
He tipped forward and kissed her on the forehead. The gentleness stilled her.
“You were still the girl who fixed Nainsi,” he said. “You were still the girl who warned me about Levana’s plans. You were still the girl who wanted to save her little sister.”
She flinched at the mention of Peony, her younger stepsister. Her death was a wound that hadn’t fully healed.
Kai’s hands slipped down her arms, interlacing with her fingers—flesh and metal alike. “You were trying to protect yourself, and I should have tried harder to defend you.”
Cinder gulped. “When you said I was even more painful to look at than Levana…”
Kai inhaled sharply, like the memory of the words hurt him as much as it hurt her.
“… do I … did I look like her? Does my glamour look like hers?”
A crease formed between his brows, and he stared at her, into her, before shaking his head. “Not exactly. You still looked like you, just…” He struggled for a word. “Perfect. A flawless version of you.”
It was clear that it wasn’t meant as a compliment.
“You mean, an unnatural version of me.”
After a hesitation, he said, “I suppose so.”
“I think it was instinct,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was using a glamour. I just knew I didn’t want you to know I was a cyborg.” A wry chuckle. “It seems so silly now.”
“Good.” He tugged her close again. “We must have made progress.”
His lips had just brushed hers when the door opened.
“Got everything we need?” said Thorne, chipper as ever. Iko, Cress, and Wolf filed in after him.
Kai dropped Cinder’s hands and she took a step back, adjusting her tool belt. “The pod’s ready. Triple-checked. There shouldn’t be any surprises.”
“And the guest of honor?”
“I have everything I came with,” said Kai, indicating his rumpled wedding clothes.
Iko stepped forward and handed Kai a box labeled PROTEIN OATS. “We have a gift for you too.”
He flipped it over to the child’s game printed on the back. “Yum?”
“Open it,” said Iko, bouncing on her toes.
Prying open the top, Kai turned it over and dumped a thin silver chain and a medallion into his palm. He lifted it up to eye level, inspecting the rather tarnished insignia. “‘The American Republic 86th Space Regiment,’” he read. “I can see why it made you think of me.”