Covertly, blissfully alone.
“How was the flight?” Kai whispered, standing so close she imagined she could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat in the air between them.
“Oh, you know,” Cinder murmured back. “Thorne was flying, so it was a constant stream of near-death experiences. How’s emperor life?”
“Oh, you know. Press conferences. Cabinet meetings. Adoring fans everywhere I go.”
“So also a constant stream of near-death experiences?”
“Pretty much.” He’d inched closer to her as they talked. Cinder was nearly pressed against the wall, standing between a wall peg holding heavy overalls and a stack of muddy boots on the floor. “Is that an acceptable amount of small talk?”
“Acceptable to me,” said Cinder, digging her hands into his hair and pulling him to her.
* * *
Breakfast served in 20 minutes.
Cinder grumbled under her breath at the message scrolling across the darkness of her eyelids. She squeaked her eyes open and peered into the dim sunlight that filtered through the room’s tiny window. The familiarity of the Rampion surrounded her, a far cry from the luxury of Artemisia Palace, yet more comfortable to her even now. The gurgle of a water tank through the metal walls. The aromas of steel and recirculating air. The too-firm mattress on the bunk bed’s lower cot.
However, the sensation of an arm thrown over her waist was something new.
She smiled and shut her eyes again, ushering Scarlet’s comm away. She and Kai had stayed up far too late—rays of sunlight were appearing on the horizon when they’d finally fallen asleep. They’d wandered the endless crops, their hands interlaced, content that all the journalists had finally gone to bed. They’d sat on the stoop of the farmhouse, staring up at the moon in a near-cloudless sky. They’d ended up in the crew quarters that Kai had slept in during his stint aboard the ship, cuddled on the lower bed and talking, talking, talking, until the words had turned gummy in their mouths and their eyelids had been too heavy to keep open.
It was almost like they’d never been separated at all, and Cinder couldn’t help feeling relieved to know that his presence was as reassuring to her now as it ever had been. She felt like she could tell him anything and, judging from the fears and pet peeves and frustrations he’d shared with her, she sensed he felt the same way.
With a heavy sigh, she eased onto her back. Kai groaned in protest and shifted his weight to press his face into the pillow beside her head.
“Scarlet’s making breakfast,” she told him. Her voice was scratchy from the hours of talking and laughing.
“Time is it?” Kai mumbled into the pillow.
Cinder checked the clock in her head. “Almost nine.”
Kai groaned again. They couldn’t have slept for more than four hours. She guessed that Wolf and Scarlet had been up since dawn, tending to the farm. They had probably just missed each other.
“Come on,” she said, reaching for Kai’s arm. “It’s a big day.”
Kai jerked in protest when her metal hand touched him, and Cinder recoiled.
“Stars, that hand gets cold,” Kai murmured. Rolling onto his back, he took the prosthetic hand in between both of his palms, warming it as he would warm icy fingers on a winter’s day. Cinder sat up and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. He could have fallen asleep again, but for his palms rubbing over her metal hand. His shirt was rumpled, his hair tousled against the sheets.
“Kai?”
He grunted in response.
“I love you.”
A sleepy smile curved across his mouth. “I love you too.”
“Good.” Leaning over, she kissed him fast. “Because I’m taking the shower first.”
* * *
The house was too small to accommodate them all, so while Winter and Jacin had taken the one spare bedroom, the others stayed aboard the Rampion, and they made their way across the drive together once they’d all showered and dressed. The journalists were out in force again, screaming their questions and snapping their pictures, but Wolf and Jacin had erected a simple rope barrier the evening before and, for now at least, the journalists were content to stay behind it rather than risk Scarlet’s wrath.
Cinder tried to ignore them, but their presence made her a hundred times more aware of the warmth of Kai’s hand pressing against her lower back.
The house smelled of bacon and strong coffee when they entered. Jacin was sitting at the round table in the kitchen, peeling apart a croissant, while Scarlet, Wolf, and Winter bustled around him in an assortment of patterned cooking aprons—even Wolf had blue-checkered fabric tied around his waist.
“Grab a plate,” Scarlet ordered, pointing at a stack of plates on the counter with a wooden spoon. “We’re going to eat in the sitting room. It’s too crowded in here.”
Cinder did as she was told, helping herself to a cinnamon pastry, some bacon, a casserole of potatoes, onions, and peppers, and a cluster of garnet-purple grapes. Then she retreated to the sitting room, where Iko was waiting with one leg thrown over the arm of a rocking chair. She sighed when Cinder sat on the floor beside her.
“I don’t want to hear one word about how delicious that is,” said Iko.
“It’s terrible,” said Cinder, biting a piece of bacon in half. After swallowing, she added, “Especially the bacon. You would hate bacon.”
The others filed in, taking over the sofa and nearly every available spot on the worn rug. Wolf and Scarlet came last.
“One of you had better be planning on making lunch,” said Scarlet, untying her apron as she claimed the last spot on the sofa. Wolf handed her a plate of food, then sat between her feet, draping one arm over her knee as he gobbled down his own food.
Thorne lifted his fork. “I’ll make a run for takeout?”
“Deal,” said Scarlet, clinking the side of her fork against his.
Iko stopped rocking in her chair and leaned forward. “So tell us what’s in store for your big day. Have you had fun planning it? What are you most excited about?”
Scarlet leaned her head against the sofa. “I’m most excited for it to be over, and for all those stupid media people to leave so we can have our lives back.”
Wolf petted her knee and kept eating.
Cress frowned. “Aren’t you excited to be married?”
“Oh, sure,” said Scarlet. “That part will be nice. But I never wanted to have a big wedding, and I certainly didn’t expect it to turn into this jamboree.” She straightened again. “Not that I’m regretting inviting you guys,” she added, looking pointedly at Kai and Cinder, with an extra glance at Winter. “Obviously, I want you here. It’s just…” She heaved a big sigh.
“We understand,” said Kai, picking apart the sections of an orange. “Having lived with paparazzi my whole life, I would never wish it on anyone.”
“You don’t really think they’ll interrupt the ceremony, do you?” asked Iko.
Scarlet shrugged. “I hope they have more integrity than that. Although it is tradition for the bride and groom to walk to the ceremony through the streets of town and cut through ribbons that the children are supposed to have prepared for us. But I can’t even fathom walking down my own driveway with those goons out there, so I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”
Cinder cleared her throat. “Is that tradition … important to you?”