“We’re fine,” said Cinder. “Thank you.”
“Right this way.” Kai and Torin led their guests away from the docking bay, dismissing the captain and first mate. No one spoke until they’d made their way back to his private rooms.
When Kai faced his guests again, the disguises were gone and the reality of seeing five known criminals in his sitting room reminded him that he’d just put everyone aboard this ship in a great amount of danger.
“Is this room secure?” asked Thorne.
“It should be,” said Kai. “We use it for international conferencing and—”
“Cress?”
“On it, Captain.” Cress pulled a portscreen from her back pocket and went to the control panel built into the wall, running whatever system check she’d devised.
“This is Konn Torin, my head adviser. Torin, you remember Cin—”
“Wait,” said Cinder, holding up a hand.
Kai paused.
Nine long, silent seconds passed between them, before finally Cress unplugged her portscreen. “All clear.”
“Thank you, Cress,” said Thorne.
Cinder lowered her hand. “Now we can talk.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “Right. Torin, you remember Cinder and Iko.”
Torin nodded at them, his arms crossed, and Cinder returned the nod, laced with an equal amount of tension. “I told you I’d return him safely,” she said.
A flicker of irony passed over Torin’s face. “You promised no harm would come to him. In my opinion, that includes physical injury.”
“It was just one punch, Torin.” Kai shrugged at Cinder. “I tried to explain it was all a part of the charade.”
“I understand perfectly, but forgive me for being defensive.” Torin scrutinized their new guests. “Though I’m grateful Kai has been returned, it seems this ordeal is hardly over. I hope you know what you’re doing, Linh Cinder.”
Kai expected her to make some self-deprecating remark about how Torin wasn’t the only one, but instead, after a long silence, Cinder asked, “How much does he know?”
“Everything,” said Kai.
She turned back to Torin. “In that case, thank you for your help. May I introduce you to the rest of our team: Iko you’ve met, and this is our ship’s captain, Carswell Thorne, our software engineer, Cress Darnel, and my security officer … Wolf.”
As Torin greeted their guests with more respect than was required, given the circumstances, Kai’s attention lingered on Cinder. She stood ten full paces away from him, and as much as Kai wanted to cross the room and kiss her, he couldn’t. Maybe it was Torin’s presence. Maybe it was knowing they were on their way to Luna, where he would be married. Maybe he was afraid their time spent on the Rampion had been a dream, too fragile to survive in reality.
Though he’d seen her three days ago, it felt like a lifetime. A wall had been erected between them during that absence, though he wasn’t sure what had changed. Their relationship was precarious. Kai felt like if he breathed the wrong way, he might destroy everything, and he could see the same uncertainty mirrored in Cinder’s face.
“Oh, look,” said Iko, crossing to the row of windows. Luna was emerging in their view, bright white and pocked with a thousand craters and cliffs. They were close enough to see the biodomes, sunlight glinting off their surfaces.
Kai had never in his life dreamed he would step foot on Luna. Seeing it now, the inevitability of his fate made his stomach squeeze tight.
Cinder turned to Kai. She was doing a good job of hiding her anxiety, but he was learning to recognize it beneath her squared shoulders and determined looks. “I hope you have something for us?”
Kai gestured at a cabinet against the wall.
Iko was the first one there, yanking open the doors with effervescent enthusiasm, but it wilted fast when she saw the clothes Nainsi had gathered. The stack was a mix of browns and grays and dull whites, linens and cottons. Simple, utilitarian clothing.
“That looks right,” said Wolf, who had been the most helpful in describing what the people of Luna’s outer sectors might wear.
While they eyed the clothes and began deciding who got which pieces, Kai crossed to another cabinet and pulled out a sheet of fiberglass android plating and a tub of synthetic skin fibers. “And this is for Iko. Plus everything Cinder should need to install it.”
Iko squealed and launched herself across the room. Kai braced himself for another hug, but instead she was all over the new plating, marveling at the supplies. Cinder wasn’t far behind.
“These are perfect,” said Cinder, examining the fibers. Her eyes glinted teasingly. “You know, if this emperor thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future career in espionage.”
He gave her a wry look. “Let’s make sure this emperor thing works out, all right?”
Cinder’s face softened and she smiled for the first time since they’d boarded. Dropping the fibers back into their tub, she hesitated for a moment, before taking the last few steps toward Kai and wrapping her arms around him.
He shut his eyes. Just like that, the wall was gone. His arms were eager to pull her against him.
“Thank you,” Cinder whispered, and he knew it wasn’t for the clothes or the android parts. The words were weighted with faith and trust and sacrifices Kai wasn’t ready to think about just yet. He squeezed her tighter, pressing his temple against her hair.
Cinder was still smiling when she extricated herself from the embrace, though it was laced with determination. “Time is running out,” she said. “I suggest we go over the plan, one more time.”