Текст книги "Cress"

Автор книги: Marissa Meyer

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“Is your head covered?” he asked, brushing his foot along the ground until he found the metal bar he’d been using as a cane. Cress tried her best to mimic the way he’d covered himself before confirming that it was. “Good. Your skin is going to crisp up like bacon soon enough. This will help for a little while at least.”

She fidgeted with the cumbersome sheet while trying to guide Thorne up the slope they’d camped on. She was still exhausted and half numb from walking. Every limb throbbed.

They hadn’t traversed four dunes before Cress stumbled, landing on her knees. Thorne dug his heels into the ground for purchase. “Cress?”

“I’m fine,” she said, pulling herself up and rubbing the sand from her shins. “Just a little drained. I’m not used to all this exercise.”

Thorne’s hands were hanging in midair, like he’d meant to help pull her to her feet, but she noticed it too late. Slowly, they sank to his sides. “Can you keep going?”

“Yes. I just need to get into a rhythm again.” She hoped it was true and that her legs wouldn’t be loose cables all day long.

“We’ll walk until it gets too hot, then rest. We don’t want to exert ourselves too much, especially under full sun.”

Cress started down the dune again, counting their steps to bide the time.

Ten steps.

Twenty-five.

Fifty.

The sand grew hot, singeing the soles of her feet through the towels. The sun climbed.

Her imagination circled through her favorite fantasies, anything to keep herself distracted. She was a shipwrecked pirate from the second era. She was an athlete training for a cross-country journey. She was an android, who had no sense of exhaustion, who could march on and on and on.…

But the dreams became more and more fleeting, reality pushing them aside with pain and discomfort and thirst.

She began to hope that Thorne would let them stop and relax, but he didn’t. They trudged on. Thorne was right about the sheets, which kept the merciless sun from scorching her, and she became grateful for the dampness of her own sweat keeping her cool. She began counting again as sweat dripped down the backs of her knees, and though she felt awful for thinking it, part of her was glad Thorne couldn’t see her in this state.

Not that he was immune to the trials of the desert. His face was red, his hair messed from rubbing against his makeshift hood, and dirt streaked down his cheeks where there was a shadow of facial hair.

As it grew hotter, Thorne encouraged Cress to finish off the water they’d opened in the morning, which she drank with relish, only afterward realizing that Thorne hadn’t taken any for himself. She was still thirsty, but the day was stretching on in front of them and they had only one more bottle. Though Thorne had told her they shouldn’t ration it, she couldn’t bring herself to ask for more if he wasn’t drinking also.

She began to sing to herself to pass the time, humming all the pretty songs she could recall from her music collection on the satellite. She let the familiar melodies distract her. Walking became easier for a time.

“That one’s pretty.”

She paused, and it took a moment for her to realize Thorne was talking about the song she was singing, and it took another moment for her to remember which one it had been. “Thank you,” she said uncertainly. She’d never sang in front of anyone—never been complimented on it. “It’s a popular lullaby on Luna. I used to think that I’d been named for it, before I realized what a common name ‘Crescent’ is.” She sang through the first verse again. “Sweet crescent moon, up in the sky. You sing your song so sweetly after sunshine passes by.…”

When she glanced back at Thorne, he had a faint smile on his lips. “Your mom sang you a lot of lullabies?”

“Oh, no. They can tell you’re a shell right when you’re born, so I was only a few days when my parents gave me up to be killed. I don’t remember them at all.”

His smile disappeared, and after a long silence, he said, “You probably shouldn’t be singing, now that I think of it. You’ll lose moisture through your mouth.”

“Oh.” Pressing her lips tight together, Cress placed her fingertips against Thorne’s arm, the signal that had come to mean they were starting down a slope, and slogged on. Her skin had been scraped raw by the heat, despite the shelter of her makeshift robe, but she was propelled on by the thought that it was nearly midday. And while midday would bring about the highest temperatures yet, Thorne had also promised a respite from walking.

“All right,” Thorne finally said, as if the words were being dragged up from his throat. “That’s enough. Let’s rest until the temperature goes down again.”

Cress groaned with relief. She would have kept walking all day if he had asked it of her, but how glad she was that he hadn’t.

“Do you see any shade at all? Or someplace that looks like it might be shaded when the sun starts going down?”

Cress squinted across the dunes. Though there was some shade over the occasional hillock, at high noon it was almost nonexistent. Still, they were coming up on a big hill that would soon cast some shadows—it was the best they could do.

“This way,” she said, spurred on by the promise of rest.

But as they crested one more dune, her eye caught on something in the distance. She gasped, grabbing Thorne’s arm.

“What is it?”

She gaped at the glorious sight, struggling to find words to describe it. Blue and green, a stark contrast against the orange desert sand. “Water. And … and trees!”

“An oasis?”

“Yes! It must be!”

Relief spilled over her. She began to tremble with the promise of shade, water, rest.

“Come on—it isn’t far,” she said, plowing through the sand with renewed energy.

“Cress. Cress, wait! Reserve your energy.”

“But we’re almost there.”

“Cress!”

She barely heard him. Already she could imagine the cool water slipping down her throat. The breeze beneath a palm’s canopy. Maybe there would be food, some strange tropical Earthen food she’d never tasted, that would be juicy and crisp and refreshing …

But mostly she thought of collapsing into a nice patch of shade, cooled and protected from the sun, and sleeping until nighttime brought the return of cooler temperatures and endless stars.

Thorne trooped after her, having given up trying to make her stop, and soon she realized she was being cruel to make him go so fast. She slowed a little, but kept her eyes on the lake that shimmered at the base of a dune.

“Cress, are you sure?” he asked when he’d caught his breath.

“Of course I’m sure. It’s right there.”

“But … Cress.”

Her pace slowed. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No, just … all right. All right, I can keep up. Let’s get to this oasis.”

She beamed and grabbed his free hand, leading him over the desert’s ripples and tides. Her fantasies took over, eclipsing her fatigue. The towels had nearly rubbed the soles of her feet raw and her calves were sunburned where her sheet didn’t protect them and her brain was swirling with thirst, but they were close. So close.

And yet, as she slipped along the powdery sand, it seemed that the oasis never came any closer. It always lingered at the horizon, as if the shimmering trees were receding with each step she took.

She plowed on, desperate. The distances were deceptive, but soon they would reach it. If only they kept moving. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other.

“Cress?”

“Captain,” she panted, “it’s … it isn’t far.”

“Cress, is it getting any closer?”

She stumbled, her pace slowing drastically until she stopped, gasping for breath. “Captain?”

“Do you see it getting closer? Do the trees look bigger than they were before?”

She squinted at the water, the trees, the most gorgeous sight, and swiped her sleeve over her face. She was so hot, but no sweat was left behind on the cloth.

The truth was so painful, she almost didn’t have the strength to say it. “N-no. But that’s … how could…”

Thorne sighed, but it was not a disappointed sigh, merely resigned. “It’s a mirage, Cress. It’s the light playing tricks on your eyes.”

“But … I can see it. There are even islands in the lake, and trees…”

“I know. Mirages always seem real, but you’re only seeing what you want to see. It’s a trick, Cress. It’s not there.”

She was mesmerized by how the water rippled in little waves, how the trees trembled like a breeze was teasing their branches. It looked so real, so tangible. She could almost smell it, almost taste the cool wind blowing toward her.

Cress barely managed to stay standing, her fear of being scorched by the hot sand alone giving her the strength.

“It’s all right. Lots of people see mirages in the desert.”

“But … I didn’t know. I should have known. I’ve heard stories, but I didn’t … I didn’t think it could look so real.”

Thorne’s fingers brushed against the sheet, finding her hand. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” he said, his tone a mixture of gentle and stern. Crying was not allowed, not with water so precious.

“No,” she whispered, and she meant it. Not that she didn’t want to cry, but because she wasn’t sure her body could make enough tears.

“Good, come on. Find us a sand dune to sit down for a while.”

Cress peeled her attention away from the fleeting, bitter illusion. Scanning the nearest dunes, she led him toward a southward-facing slope. The moment she was over the crest, it was as if a thin string that had been holding her up snapped. Cress let out a pained groan and collapsed into the sand.

Thorne brought the blanket and parachute square out of the pack and laid it out for them to sit on, to keep them off the hot sand, then pulled the corners over their heads like a canopy that blocked out the sun’s brightness.

He put an arm around Cress’s shoulders and tugged her against him. She felt so dumb, so betrayed—by the desert, by the sun, by her own eyes. And now the truth was settling upon her.

There was no water.

There were no trees.

Nothing but endless sand, endless sun, endless walking.

And they may never make it out. They couldn’t go on forever. She doubted she could go on for another day like this, and who knew how long it would take to reach the end of the desert. Not when every sand dune multiplied into three more, when every step toward the mountains seemed to send them even farther into the distance, and they didn’t even know that the mountains would offer any protection when they got there.

“We are not going to die here,” Thorne said, his voice soft and reassuring, like he’d known exactly where her thoughts had been taking her. “I’ve been through much worse than this and I’ve survived just fine.”

“You have?”

He opened his mouth, but paused. “Well … I was in jail for a long time, which wasn’t exactly a picnic.”

She adjusted the towels on her feet. The hair-ropes had begun to cut into her skin.

“The military wasn’t much fun either, come to think of it.”

“You were only in it for five months,” she murmured, “and most of that was spent in flight training.”

Thorne tilted his head. “How’d you know that?”

“Research.” She didn’t tell him just how much she’d researched into his past, and he didn’t ask.

“Well—so maybe this is the worst I’ve been through. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to survive. We’ll find civilization, we’ll comm the Rampion, and they’ll come get us. Then we’ll overthrow Levana and I’ll get loads of reward money and the Commonwealth will pardon my crimes or whatever and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

Cress nestled against Thorne’s side, trying to believe him.

“But first, we have to get out of this desert.” He rubbed her shoulder. It was the kind of touch that would have filled her with giddiness and yearning if she hadn’t been too tired to feel anything. “You have to trust me, Cress. I’m going to get us out of this.”

Twenty-One

“There,” said Dr. Erland, snipping off the ends of the surgery thread. “That’s all I can do for him.”

Cinder wet her lips and found that they had begun to split from dryness. “And? Will he … is he going to…?”

“We have to wait and see. He’s lucky the bullets didn’t puncture a lung, or he wouldn’t have made it this far, but he did lose a lot of blood. I’ll monitor the anesthetics closely for the next day or two. We want to keep him sedated. Levana’s soldiers are designed as disposable weapons—they are very effective when they’re in good health, but their genetic alterations make it difficult for them to rest, even when their bodies need time to recover from injury.”

She stared down at Wolf’s wounds, now sewed together with dark blue thread that formed ugly bumps and ridges where open flesh had been before. Numerous other scars littered his bare chest, long since healed. It was obvious that he had been through a lot. Surely this wouldn’t be the end of him, after everything?

A table beside her held a tray with the two small bullets the doctor had removed—they seemed too small to have done so much damage.

“I can’t let anyone else die,” she whispered.

The doctor looked up from cleaning the surgical tools. “They may be treated as disposable assets to the queen, but they are also resilient.” He dropped the scalpel and tweezers into a blue liquid. “With proper rest, it’s possible that he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Possible,” she repeated dumbly. It wasn’t enough.

She slumped down onto the wooden chair beside Wolf’s bed and slipped a hand into his, hoping he would appreciate the touch, even though she wasn’t Scarlet.

She crushed her eyes shut, the wave of remorse flooding over her. Scarlet. Wolf would be furious when he woke up. Furious and devastated.

“Now perhaps you might deign to tell me how you managed to be in the company of both a Lunar soldier and a Lunar royal guard, of all the possible allies in this galaxy.”

She sighed. It took a while to gather her thoughts and find the beginning of such a story. Ultimately she decided to tell him about tracking down Michelle Benoit, and how she’d been hoping to find out more about the woman who had protected her secret to the death. How she’d been searching for clues about her past, who had brought her to Earth, and why anyone would put so much faith into a child who, at the time, was a mere three years old and on the brink of death after the queen’s attempted murder.

She explained how they’d followed the path of clues to Paris, where she learned that Michelle Benoit was dead, but she found her granddaughter instead. Scarlet … and Wolf. How they became allies. How Wolf was training her to use her mental abilities and to fight.

She told him about the attack aboard the Rampion and how Sybil Mira had taken Scarlet, and now it was only her and Wolf … and this guard, who she wanted to trust, felt she needed to trust, and yet she didn’t even know his name.

“He said that he serves his princess,” Cinder said, the words wispy and thin. “Somehow, he knew about me.”

Erland rubbed at his frizzy hair. “Perhaps he overheard Thaumaturge Mira, or the queen herself talking about you. We’re lucky that his fealty is to the true crown. Many of Levana’s minions would just as soon kill you and claim a reward than see you recognized as queen.”

“I figured as much.”

He sneered, like he wasn’t happy to have to acknowledge the guard could be an ally after all. “And speaking of recognizing you as the true queen…”

She shriveled into her seat, squeezing Wolf’s hand.

“Miss Linh, I have spent years planning for the time when I would find you again. You should have come to me straightaway.”

Cinder wrinkled her nose. “That’s precisely why I didn’t.”

“And what does that mean?”

“When you came to my jail cell and dropped this whole princess thing on me … how was I supposed to react? All of a sudden I went from being nobody to being long-lost royalty, and you expected me to jump up and accept this destiny that you’d worked out in your head, but did you ever consider that maybe that’s not the destiny I want? I wasn’t raised to be a princess or a leader. I just needed some time to figure out who I was … am. Where I came from. I thought maybe those answers were in France.”

“And were they?”

She shrugged, remembering the underground lab they’d found on the Benoit farm, with the suspended-animation tank where she had slept, half alive, for eight years. Where some nameless, faceless person had given her a new name, a new history, and new robotic limbs.

“Some of them were.”

“And how about now? Are you ready to accept your destiny, or are you still searching?”

She frowned. “I know that I am who you say I am. And someone has to stop Levana. If that someone has to be me, well … yes. I accept that. I’m ready.” She glanced down at Wolf and bit back her next words. At least, I thought I was ready, before I ruined everything.

“Good,” said the doctor. “Because it’s time we developed a plan. Queen Levana cannot be allowed to rule any longer, and she certainly cannot be allowed to rule Earth.”

“I know. I agree. I had a plan, actually. We had a plan.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“We were going to use the wedding to our advantage, especially with all the media that’s going to be there. We were going to get past palace security, and I was going to sneak into the ceremony and … stop it.”

“Stop the wedding?” Erland said, sounding unimpressed.

“Yes. I was going to tell everyone who I am. With all the cameras and the media and the whole world watching, I was going to insist that Kai couldn’t marry her. I was going to tell the world about Levana’s plans to invade all the Earthen countries, so that the other leaders would refuse to accept her as a world leader. And then I would demand that Levana relinquish her crown … to me.” She pulled away from Wolf, finding that her palm had grown too warm. She rubbed it nervously on her pant leg.

Dr. Erland’s expression had gone dark. He reached forward and pinched Cinder hard above her elbow.

“Ow, hey!”

“Hmph. For a moment I thought you must be another one of my hallucinations, as surely your plan couldn’t be that stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. The news would go viral in minutes. There’s nothing Levana could do to stop it.”

“It certainly would go viral. Everyone would be clamoring to witness the tirade of the crazy cyborg who fancies herself a princess.”

“They could test my blood, like you did. I can prove it.”

“No doubt Her Majesty would stand by patiently while you did so.” He huffed, as if he were talking to a small child. “Queen Levana has her talons so deep into the Commonwealth that you would be dead before you finished the word princess. Your Emperor Kai would do anything to appease her right now. To ensure that war doesn’t break out again and to get his hands on that letumosis antidote. He wouldn’t risk angering her just to validate the claim of a sixteen-year-old girl who is already a wanted criminal.”

She crossed her arms. “He might.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she sulked in her chair.

“Fine,” Cinder said. “What do you suggest? You clearly know all about this political revolution stuff, so please enlighten me, O wrinkled one.”

Dr. Erland grabbed his hat off a small writing desk and pulled it onto his head. “You can begin by learning some manners, or no one will ever believe you could be royalty.”

“Right. I’m sure that poor etiquette is the number one reason for most failed revolutions.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“Not hardly.”

He pinned her with a glare and she glared right back.

Finally, Cinder rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m finished.”

“Good. Because we have a lot to discuss, beginning with how we are going to get you to Luna.”

“Luna?”

“Yes. Luna. The rock in the sky that you are destined to rule. I trust you’re familiar with it?”

“You expect me to go to Luna?”

“Not today, but eventually, yes. You’re wasting your time with this wedding business and viral media. The people of Luna don’t care what the people of Earth think. Proclaiming your identity here won’t persuade them to rebel against their monarch, or crown you as their queen.”

“Of course it will. I’m the rightful heir!”

She drew back, stunned by her own words. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so invested in her identity, and determined to claim her place. It was a strange feeling, bordering on pride.

“You are the rightful heir,” said the doctor. “But you have to convince the people of Luna, not the people of Earth. The Lunar people must be informed that you are alive. Only with them on your side can you expect to have any success in claiming your birthright. Of course, Levana will not give up easily.”

She massaged her neck, waiting for the adrenaline warnings to dissipate. “Fine. Let’s say you’re right and this is the only way. How are we supposed to get on Luna? Aren’t all the entry ports underground? And, I might guess, heavily monitored?”

“Precisely my point. We must find a way to sneak you through the ports. Obviously we can’t use your ship…” He trailed off, rubbing his cheek. “It will require careful strategizing.”

“Oh, good, more strategizing. My favorite.”

“In the meantime, I suggest you not venture too far outside the heart of this town, and stay inside your ship as much as possible. It isn’t entirely safe here.”

Cinder glowered. “In case you didn’t notice, everyone already saw me. There’s no hiding me now.”

“That isn’t what I mean. This area has suffered more cases of letumosis than any other on Earth. Although there haven’t been any severe breakouts in over a year, we can’t let our guard down. Not with you.”

“Um … I’m immune. Remember? That little discovery that kicked off this whole mess?”

He sighed, long and slow. The defeat in his expression shot a dart of worry down her spine.

“Doctor?”

“I have seen evidence that the disease is mutating,” said Dr. Erland, “and that Lunars may no longer be immune. At least, not all of us.”

Her skin began to crawl. It was amazing how fast the old fears returned. After weeks of being invincible in the face of one of Earth’s most merciless killers, the threat was back. Her immunity could be compromised.

And she was in Africa, where it had all started.

A knock startled them both. The guard stood in the hall, damp from a recent shower and wearing some Earthen military clothes found aboard the Rampion. Though his wounds were no longer visible, Cinder noticed that he was carrying himself stiffly, favoring his unwounded side.

In his hands was a tray of flatbread that smelled thickly of garlic.

“Heard you talking. I thought your surgery might be finished,” he said. “How’s your friend?”

Cinder glanced at Wolf. He, too, would be vulnerable.

Everyone in this room was Lunar, she realized with a jolt. If Dr. Erland was right, then they were all vulnerable now.

Cinder had to swallow to unclog her voice. “He’s still alive.” Leaving Wolf’s side, she held a hand toward the guard. “I’m Cinder, by the way.”

He squinted. “I know who you are.”

“Yeah, but I figured a formal introduction would be nice, now that we’re on the same side.”

“Is that what you’ve decided?”

Cinder frowned, but before she could respond, he’d shifted the flatbread to his other hand and grasped hers.

“Jacin Clay. Honored.”

Not knowing how to read his tone, which sounded almost mocking, Cinder pulled away and glanced at the doctor, who had his fingers pressed against Wolf’s wrist. Evidently, he had no intention of joining the introductions.

Cinder wiped her palms on her pants and eyed the tray. “So, what? You can shoot a gun, fly a spaceship, and bake?”

“This was brought by some kids.” He pushed the tray toward Cinder. “They said it was for you, but I told them you couldn’t be bothered.”

She took it awkwardly. “For me?”

“‘The cyborg,’ to be specific. Seemed unlikely there would be two of you around.”

“Huh. I wonder why.”

“I suspect it will not be the first gift you receive from the citizens of Farafrah,” said Dr. Erland.

“What for? These people don’t know me.”

“Of course they do—or at least, they know of you. We are not so cut off from the world here as you might think. Even I had a reputation when I first arrived.”

She set the tray down on the desk. “And they haven’t turned you in? What about the reward money? And the fact that you’re Lunar? Don’t they care?”

Instead of answering, Dr. Erland slid his gaze toward Jacin, who was now leaning statue-like beside the door. It was easy to forget his presence in a room when he stood so still and said so little. No doubt his training as a guard had taught him that. No doubt he was used to going unnoticed.

But while Cinder had made the choice to trust him, it was obvious from the doctor’s expression that she was so far alone in that decision.

“Right,” said Jacin, pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll go check on your ship. Make sure no one’s backing out screws and calling them souvenirs.” He left the hotel room without looking back, his limp almost passing for a swagger.

“I know, he seems a little … abrasive,” Cinder said once he was gone. “But he knows who I am, and he saved my life, and Wolf’s. We should treat him as an ally.”

“You may choose to reveal all your secrets, Miss Linh, but it does not mean I must reveal mine, or those of the people in this town.”

“What do you mean?”

“The people here do not care that we are Lunar, because we are not the only ones. I estimate fifteen percent of the population of Farafrah, and other neighboring oases, is made up of Lunars, or those of Lunar descent. This is where many of our people choose to come after they escape, and they have been immigrating here since the time of Queen Channary. Perhaps even earlier.”

“Fifteen percent?” she asked. “And the Earthens know?”

“It is not widely discussed, but it seems to be common knowledge. They have come to live in harmony together. Once the plague struck, many Lunars took to nursing the sick and burying the dead, as they themselves did not catch the sickness. Of course, no one knew they were the original carriers. By the time that theory was posed, the two races had become too intermingled. They work together now, helping each other survive.”

“But it’s illegal to harbor Lunar fugitives. Levana would be furious.”

“Yes, but who would tell her? No one cares about a poor, diseased town in the Sahara.”

Thoughts swarming, she picked up a piece of the bread, glistening with golden oil and speckled with herbs. The soft inside was still steaming when she pulled it apart.

It was a gift … from Lunars. From her own people.

Her eyes widened and she gaped up at the doctor again. “Do they know? About … me?”

He sniffed. “They know that you stood up against the queen. They know that you continue to defy her.” For the first time since she’d arrived, Cinder thought she detected a smile beneath the doctor’s annoyed expression. “And I may have led them to believe that, one of these days, you intend to assassinate her.”

“Wha—assassinate her?”

“It worked,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “These people will follow you anywhere.”

Twenty-Two

“Lunar Thaumaturge Aimery Park, Your Majesty.”

Kai and Torin stood as the thaumaturge glided past Nainsi into Kai’s office. Although Aimery bowed respectfully to Kai as he came to stand on the opposite side of his desk, so low that the long sleeves of his maroon jacket nearly brushed the carpet, there was something supremely disrespectful in his air that always set Kai on edge. He had never quite been able to pinpoint what it was about this man—maybe it was the way he always wore a faint smile at the corners of his lips, or perhaps how that smile only reached his eyes when he was using his gift to manipulate someone.

“Thank you for joining us,” said Kai, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

“My pleasure,” said Aimery, settling gracefully into the offered chair. “Anything for Luna’s future king.”

The designation made Kai squirm. It was easy to forget that he would be taking on a new title as much as Levana was, but the difference was that Luna had very strict laws governing who could be put into positions of power, and Earthens certainly did not make the cut. He would be crowned King Consort, meaning he would be a pretty figurehead with virtually no power whatsoever.

Unfortunately, the Commonwealth did not have the same fail-safes put in place. Kai’s great-great-great-grandfather, the country’s first emperor, must have trusted his descendants to make sound decisions on their spouses.

“I wanted to discuss with you a discovery recently made by the Earthen Union,” Kai said, nodding at Torin.

His adviser stepped closer to the desk and set a portscreen in its center. With a click, the holograph of Earth with 327 Lunar spaceships surrounding it flickered to life above the desk.

Kai watched the thaumaturge closely, but the man did not show an iota of a reaction to the holograph, even with hundreds of yellow dots reflected like fireflies in his dark eyes.

“This is real-time imagery of Earth and its surrounding space,” said Kai. “The markers have all been confirmed to be Lunar spacecrafts.”

Aimery’s cheek seemed to twitch, as though he was on the verge of laughing, yet his voice remained as smooth as caramel when he spoke. “It is a very striking picture indeed, Your Majesty. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Clenching his teeth, Kai lowered himself into his own chair. He was tempted to keep standing, as a show of power, but he’d been around Lunars enough to know that such mind games rarely had any effect, and at least when he was sitting he could pretend to be comfortable. Pretend that he hadn’t been dreading this conversation all day.

“You’re very welcome,” Kai deadpanned. “Now perhaps you can explain to me what they’re all doing up there.”

“Recreation.” Aimery leaned back, leisurely crossing his legs. “We have many wealthy families on Luna who enjoy the occasional holiday cruise through our galaxy. I’m told it can be very relaxing.”

Kai narrowed his eyes. “And these holiday cruises routinely bring them to within ten thousand kilometers of Earth? Where they remain anchored for days?”

“I am sure the view afforded them by such a location must be quite lovely.” One side of Aimery’s mouth quirked. “Breathtaking sunrises, I’m told.”

“Interesting. Because all three hundred twenty-seven of these ships bear the insignia of the Lunar Crown. It seems to me that these are actually crown-sanctioned ships either conducting some sort of surveillance on the Earthen Union, or preparing an attack should war be declared.”