“Well there are about 200,000 single girls in this city who would fall over themselves to have the privilege.”
A hush passed between them. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel his presence, warm and overpowering. She could feel the elevator growing hot, despite the fact that her temperature gauge assured her it hadn’t changed.
“Cinder.”
She couldn’t help it. She looked at him. Her defenses withered a bit upon encountering the openness in his brown eyes. His confidence had been replaced with worry. Uncertainty.
“200,000 single girls,” he said. “Why not you?”
Cyborg. Lunar. Mechanic. She was the last thing he wanted.
She opened her lips, and the elevator stopped. “I’m sorry. But trust me—you don’t want to go with me.”
The doors opened and the tension released her. She rushed out of the elevator, head down, trying not to look at the small group of people waiting for an elevator.
“Come to the ball with me.”
She froze. Everyone in the hallway froze.
Cinder turned back. Kai was still standing in elevator B, one hand propping open the door.
Her nerves were frazzled, and all the emotions of the past hour were converging into a single, sickening feeling—exasperation. The hall was filled with doctors, nurses, androids, officials, technicians, and they all fell into an awkward hush and stared at the prince and the girl in the baggy cargo pants he was flirting with.
Flirting.
Squaring her shoulders, she retreated back into the elevator and pushed him inside, not even caring that it was with her metal hand. “Hold the elevator,” he said to the android as the doors shut them in. He smiled. “That got your attention.”
“Listen,” she said. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t go to the ball with you. You just have to trust me on that.”
He gazed down at the gloved hand splayed across his chest. Cinder pulled away, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why? Why don’t you want to go with me?”
She huffed. “It’s not that I don’t want to go with you, it’s that I’m not going at all.”
“So you do want to go with me.”
Cinder locked her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Because I can’t.”
“But I need you.”
“Need me?”
“Yes. Don’t you see? If I’m spending all my time with you, then Queen Levana can’t rope me in to any conversations or…” He shuddered. “Dancing.”
Cinder reeled back, her gaze losing focus. Queen Levana. Of course this was about Queen Levana. What had Peony told her, ages ago? Rumors of a marriage alliance?
“Not that I have anything against dancing. I can dance. If you want to dance.”
She squinted at him. “What?”
“Or not, if you don’t want to. Or if you don’t know how. Which is nothing to be ashamed of.”
She started to rub her forehead, a headache developing, but stopped when she realized her gloves were filthy. “I really, really can’t go,” she said. “You see…” I don’t have a dress. Adri won’t allow it. Because Queen Levana would kill me. “It’s my sister.”
“Your sister?”
She wet her throat and dropped her gaze to the polished blackwood floor. Even the elevators were exquisite in the palace. “Yes. My little sister. She has the plague. And it just wouldn’t be the same without her, and I can’t go—won’t go. I’m sorry.” Cinder was surprised to find the words ringing true, even to her ear. She wondered if her lie detector would have gone off if it could see her.