And yet if something were to happen between the apartment and the palace to this android who had real information on the missing Lunar princess, Cinder would never forgive herself. It was her responsibility to get the android back to Kai, safe and sound.
Besides, the palace was a huge place. What were the chances she would run into the Lunar queen, who probably didn’t intend to spend much time socializing with the citizenry anyway?
Nainsi was much faster on her treads than Iko, and Cinder had to hurry to keep up with her. But their pace slowed as they discovered that they were not the only citizens on their way to the palace that afternoon. At the base of the cliff, the main road had been blocked off as it left the city behind and became the private drive of the palace, shaded by twisted pines and drooping willows. The winding street was filled with pedestrians making their slow way up the hill. Some walked alone, others in large cliques. Their conversations reached Cinder, irate and determined, arms flying in mad gestures. We don’t want her here. What could His Highness be thinking? The growing roar of the mob echoed down the road. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of angry voices chanting in unison.
“No moon queen! No moon queen! No moon queen!”
Turning the last corner, Cinder’s gaze fell on the crowd up ahead, filling up the courtyard before the palace’s maroon gates and spilling down the street. It was barely contained by a flustered row of security guards.
Signs bobbed over their heads. WAR IS BETTER THAN SLAVERY! WE NEED AN EMPRESS, NOT A DICTATOR! NO ALLIANCE WITH EVIL! Many included the queen’s veiled image slashed through with red Xs.
Half a dozen news hovers circled the sky, capturing footage of the protests for global broadcasting.
Cinder skirted the edge of the crowd, shoving her way to the main gate while trying to shield Nainsi’s compact body with her own. But upon reaching the gate, she found it closed and guarded by both humans and androids, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Pardon me,” she said to the closest guard. “I need to get into the palace.”
The man stretched his arm toward her, pushing her back a step. “No entrance to the public today.”
“But I’m not with them.” She placed her hands on Nainsi’s head. “This android belongs to His Imperial Highness. I was hired to fix her, and now I’m returning her. It’s very important that she be returned to him as soon as possible.”
The guard peered down his nose at the android. “Did His Imperial Highness give you a pass?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Does the android have its ID?”
“I do.” Rotating her torso, Nainsi flashed her ID code at the guard.
He nodded. “You may enter.” The gates were opened, just barely, and it wasn’t a breath before the crowd surged forward. Cinder cried out at the rumble of angry voices in her ears and the sudden crush of bodies, shoving her into the security guard. Nainsi rolled through the gate without hesitation, but when Cinder moved to slip through behind her, the guard blocked her with his arm, straining against the crowd. “Just the android.”
“But we’re together!” she yelled over the chanting.
“No pass, no entrance.”
“But I fixed her! I need to deliver her. I need to…to collect payment.” Even she was put off by the whining in her voice.
“Send your invoice to the treasury like everyone else,” the man said. “No one is to be admitted without an issued pass.”
“Linh-mèi,” said Nainsi from the other side of the iron gate. “I will inform Prince Kai that you would like to see him. I’m sure he can comm you an official pass.”
Instantly, Cinder felt the weight of her silliness. Of course she didn’t need to see the prince. She had delivered the android; her job was done. And she wasn’t really going to bill him for her work, anyway. But Nainsi had turned away and rolled off toward the palace’s main entrance before Cinder could protest, leaving Cinder trying to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why it was so important to see Kai, something better than the very stupid, very childish reason that first entered her head. She simply wanted to.
The chanting stopped suddenly, making Cinder jump.
The crowd’s silence created a vacuum on the street, yearning to fill with breath, with sound, with anything. Cinder looked around, at the dazzled faces turned upward to the palace, at the lowered signs held in limp fingers. A ripple of fear stroked her spine.
She followed the gazes of the crowd up to a balcony that jutted from one of the palace’s highest stories.
The Lunar queen stood with one hand on her hip, the other on the balcony’s railing. Her expression was stern—bitter—but the look did nothing to dispel her uncanny beauty. Even from afar, Cinder could make out the pale luminescence of her skin, the ruby tinge of her lips. Her dark eyes were scanning the silenced crowd, and Cinder shrank back away from the gate, wanting to disappear behind the empty faces.
But the shock and terror was short-lived. This woman was not frightening, not dangerous.
She was warm. Welcoming. Generous. She should be their queen. She should rule them, guide them, protect them….
Cinder’s retina display flashed a warning at her. She tried in vain to wink it away, annoyed by the distraction. She wanted to look upon the queen forever. She wanted the queen to speak. To promise peace and security, wealth and comfort.
The orange light beamed in the corner of her vision. It took Cinder a moment to realize what it was, what it meant. She knew it was out of place. She knew it didn’t make sense.