The servant’s mouth worked, speechless, for a moment, before he stammered, “I-I have been s-summoned to escort you to Her Majesty.”
Kai blinked, momentarily baffled, but he quickly gathered himself. “It’s about time. Take me to her immediately.”
The servant bowed and stepped back into the corridor.
Kai was marched through the palace feeling even more like a prisoner with the guards spread out at his back, though no one touched him. He did his best to observe the palace layout, picking out memorable landmarks when he could—an interesting sculpture, an intricate tapestry. Over a sky bridge and down a long, narrow corridor where holographic portraits were lined up like a gauntlet.
His feet stumbled once when he saw the last holograph. He had to look twice to be sure he wasn’t losing his mind.
The final holograph was a woman who looked, at first glance, just like Cinder.
His heart pounded, but as the holograph turned toward him, he realized his mistake. This was a mature version of Cinder, with flirtatious eyes and a vixen’s smile. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, her nose a bit narrower. In fact, the real similarities lay not between this woman and the Cinder he knew, but between her and the Cinder he’d seen at the base of the ballroom steps.
He checked the plaque, confirming his suspicions. QUEEN CHANNARY BLACKBURN.
Cinder’s unintentional glamour, painfully beautiful as it had been, looked so much like her mother.
“Your Majesty?”
He startled and whipped his attention away. He said nothing to the servant as he left the swaying holograph behind.
He had expected to be taken to the throne room, but as they walked through an iron-grated door and into a far less luxurious hallway, he grew suspicious. On his left they passed an elaborate vault door.
“What’s in there?”
Expecting to be ignored, he was surprised when the servant answered, “The crown jewels and regalia.”
The crown jewels. In New Beijing they stored priceless artifacts and heirlooms in one of the most secure underground vaults. There they kept gemstones the size of eggs, millennia-old gold-plated swords, even the crowns of the emperor and empress when they weren’t in use.
It was clear that this wing was not open for general palace tours. Where were they taking him?
They turned another corner and Kai was ushered through a door into some sort of computer control center, full of invisi-screens and holograph nodes. Maps and surveillance videos were flickering on every wall and there were at least thirty men and women analyzing the abundance of feeds and compiling the ongoing data.
Before he could begin to make sense of what they were doing, he was shoved through a door into an adjacent room. The door was shut, locking him behind soundproof glass.
His gaze swept around the new space. A backdrop on one wall showed the city of Artemisia and Earth off the horizon. Two elaborate thrones sat before it.
The rest of the room was full of enormous standing lights and recording equipment. It reminded him of the media room in New Beijing Palace, but without any seats set up for journalists.
Levana stood behind one of the thrones, her hands rested on its back. She was dressed in a shimmering black gown hung with a silver sash. A brooch on the sash had a delicate gold filigree and rhinestones that read Princess Winter, Though Gone, Never Forgotten.
Kai’s lips curled in disgust. This bit of gossip, at least, had reached him in his captivity. Princess Winter had been murdered. Some were saying it was by a guard, some were saying a jealous lover. But after seeing the way Levana had snarled at her stepdaughter, Kai couldn’t help having his own theories.
Thaumaturge Aimery stood by the door, along with the red-haired captain of the guard. An unfamiliar man was fiddling with one of the lights.
Though Levana’s mouth was smiling, her eyes were vicious.
Something had happened.
Kai planted his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to come across as composed but formidable. “Hello, my sweet,” he drawled, recalling the sycophantic endearments she’d mentioned in the ports.
Levana gave him a withering look, which spoke volumes. If she wasn’t willing to fake amusement, then something had gone horribly wrong.
Which he hoped meant something had gone horribly right.
“I was promised that I would be treated as a diplomatic guest,” he said. “I wish to hold counsel with Konn Torin and the rest of the Earthen delegates and to be allowed access to roam the palace and city. We are not your prisoners.”
“Unfortunately, I am not taking demands today.” Levana’s long nails dug into the back of her false throne. “You are, however, going to help me with a little project. Are we ready?”
The man was holding up pieces of paper in varying tones of white. “One more moment, My Queen.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “I’m not helping you with anything until you grant my requests and answer my questions.”
“My dear groom-to-be, you gave up your rights to diplomatic courtesy when you brought those criminals into my home. Sit down.”
Kai experienced a heartbeat’s worth of defiance before his legs moved of their own accord and he collapsed into one of the thrones. He glared at the queen.
“I’m told,” he pressed, “that you took an Earthen prisoner during a time of cease-fire. A citizen of the European Federation by the name of Scarlet Benoit. I demand to know if there is any truth to these rumors and where the girl is now.”
Levana started to laugh. “I assure you there is no Earthen prisoner by that name here.”