His parents, he had been shocked to learn, were not dead. He had been certain that his defying Levana’s order and helping Winter escape would end in their public executions, like Levana had threatened, but a twist of irony had spared their lives. His father had been transferred to a lumber sector years ago. When Cinder’s call for revolution broadcast, the civilians rioted, imprisoning all of their guards and the guards’ families. By the time Levana’s order to have them killed had come through, Jacin’s parents were no longer under her domain. The lumber sector, it turned out, was the same one where Winter had been poisoned.
He hadn’t seen them yet, as all guards were waiting to be granted trials under the new regime. Most would be offered a chance to swear fealty to Queen Selene and join the new royal guard she was building. He knew his father, a good man who had long suffered under Levana’s thumb, would be happy at the change.
Jacin himself was nervous to be reunited with his family. After years of pushing everyone he loved away, it was difficult to imagine a life in which he was free to care for people without fear of them becoming pawns to be used against him.
He knew they would love to see Winter again too, who had been like a part of their family growing up. But … not like this. Seeing her like this would break their hearts.
Seeing her like this …
Winter whimpered, a pathetic sound like that of a dying animal. Jacin jumped to his feet and settled a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. She whipped her head back and forth a few times, her eyes jerking beneath her closed lids, but she didn’t wake up. When she had settled down again, Jacin breathed a heavy sigh.
He wanted her to be better. He wanted this to be over. He wanted her to open her eyes and not thrash or bite or howl. He wanted her to look at him with recognition and happiness and that hint of mischief that had captured his heart long before she’d been the most beautiful girl on Luna.
He pulled a coiled spring of hair away from her lips, brushing it back off her face.
“I love you, Princess,” he whispered, hovering over her for a long time, tracing the planes of her face and the curve of her lips and remembering how she had kissed him in the menagerie. She’d told him then that she loved him, and he hadn’t been brave enough to say it back.
But now …
He placed one hand on the other side of her body, leaning into it for balance. His heart was racing, and he felt like an idiot. If anyone saw him, they’d think he was one of Winter’s creepy admirers.
It would change nothing—every bit of logic told him so. A stupid, idealistic kiss could not put her mind back together.
But he had nothing to lose.
Winter went on sleeping, her chest rising. Falling.
Rising and falling and rising.
Jacin realized he was stalling. Building up hope, but also erecting a wall around himself for when nothing happened. Because nothing would happen.
He leaned over her, leaving a hint of space between them, and dug his fingers into the thin hospital blankets. “I love you, Winter. I always have.”
He kissed her. One-sided as it was, it had little of the passion there’d been in the menagerie, but so much more hope. And a whole lot of foolishness.
Pulling away, he swallowed hard and dared to open his eyes.
Winter was staring at him.
Jacin snapped backward. “Dammit, Winter. You … how long…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Were you just pretending to be asleep?”
Winter stared up at him, a dreamy half smile on her lips.
Jacin’s pulse skittered at that look, his attention dipping back to her lips. Was it possible—?
“Win—Princess?”
“Hello,” she said, her voice parched, but no less sweet than usual. “Do you see the snow?”
His brow twitched. “Snow?”
Winter peered up at the ceiling. Though her wrists were bound tight, she opened up a palm, like trying to catch something. “It is more beautiful than I’d ever imagined,” she whispered. “I am the girl of ice and snow, and I think I’m very glad to meet you.”
Disappointment tried to burrow into Jacin’s chest, but the walls he’d thrown up did their job, and it was repelled as quickly as it came.
At least she wasn’t trying to bite him.
“Hello, snow girl,” he said, folding her fingers around an imaginary snowflake. “I’m glad to meet you too.”
Ninety-Four
Still weak-legged, Cinder held on to Kai’s arm as he guided her through Artemisia Palace for the first time since the insurrection. All around her, enormous windows and tiled walls glittered in the sunlight. It was so beautiful. She was having trouble believing it was hers.
Her palace, her kingdom, her home.
She wondered how long it would take before it felt real.
Iko had chosen her dress, a simple gown taken from Winter’s wardrobe, and done her hair in some fancy updo. Cinder was afraid to move her head for fear it would all come tumbling down. She knew she was supposed to feel regal and powerful, but instead she felt like a feeble girl playing dress-up.
She drew strength from Kai’s presence on one side and Iko on the other, even though Iko wouldn’t stop reaching up and mucking with her hair. Cinder batted her away again.
At least Iko’s arm was working again. Dr. Nandez had managed to return most of her body’s functionality, but there was still a lot of damage to be repaired.
As they turned a corner, she spotted her new personal guard, Liam Kinney, along with Kai’s adviser, Konn Torin. Beside them were Adri and Pearl.
Cinder hesitated, her pulse speeding up.
“Cinder.”
She met Kai’s gaze, his encouraging smile, and felt her heart tumbling for another reason entirely.
“I know this is weird,” he said, “but I’m here if you need me. You won’t need me, though. You’re going to be great.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, fighting the urge to embrace him, to crawl into his arms and hide from the rest of the galaxy. Maybe forever.
“Also”—his voice lowered—“you look beautiful.”
It was Iko who responded, “Thank you for noticing.”
Kai laughed, while Cinder, her thoughts fluttering in all different directions, ducked her head.
Cinder limped along, making a point not to look at her stepfamily. When she was close enough, Konn Torin bowed to her. Diplomatic respect, Cinder thought, remembering all the many glares she’d received from this man since she’d first seen him at the annual ball. But when he raised his head, he was smiling. In fact, he seemed downright friendly.
“Your Majesty,” he said. “On behalf of the people of the Eastern Commonwealth, I want to thank you for all you’ve done, and all you will do.”
“Oh, um. Yeah. Anytime.” With a difficult swallow, she dared to look at Adri.
Her stepmother’s face had a gauntness about it. Her number of gray hairs had tripled these past weeks.
There was a moment in which Cinder thought of a thousand things she could say to this woman, but none of them seemed important anymore.
Adri’s gaze dropped to the floor. She and Pearl both lowered into uncomfortable curtsies.
“Your Majesty,” said Adri, sounding like she was chewing on a bitter lemon. Beside her, Pearl also mumbled, almost unintelligibly, “Your Majesty.”