“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure this is horribly inappropriate, but…it seems that my life is about to be ruined.”
Her brow drew together, questioning, but he didn’t elaborate. His fingers, light as a breath, brushed her elbow. He craned his head. Cinder couldn’t move, barely managing to wet her lips as her eyes slipped shut.
Pain exploded in her head. Raced down her spine.
Cinder gasped and folded over, gripping her stomach. The world lurched. Acid burned her throat. Kai cried out and caught her as she stumbled forward, easing her onto the elevator floor.
Cinder shuddered against him, light-headed.
The pain was doused as quickly as it had started.
Cinder lay panting, hunched over Kai’s arm. His voice began to filter past her eardrums—her name, again and again. Muffled words. Are you all right? What happened? What did I do?
She was hot, her hand sweating in the glove, her face burning. Like before, when Dr. Erland had touched her. What was happening to her?
She licked her lips. Her tongue was cotton in her mouth. “I’m all right,” she said, wondering if it were true. “It’s gone. I’m fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut and waited, afraid that the slightest movement would bring the pain back again.
Kai’s fingers pressed against her brow, her hair. “Are you sure? Can you move?”
She attempted a nod and forced herself to look at him.
Kai gasped and jerked away, his hand freezing inches from Cinder’s brow. Fear clamped her gut. Was her retina display showing?
“What?” she asked, ducking her face behind her hand, running nervous fingers over her skin, her hair. “What is it?”
“N-nothing.”
When she dared meet Kai’s gaze again, he was blinking rapidly, confusion filling his eyes.
“Your Highness?”
“No, it was nothing.” His lips turned upward, unconvincingly. “I was seeing things.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “It was nothing. Here.” He stood and coaxed her up beside him. “Maybe we should see if the doctor can squeeze you into his busy schedule.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
KAI RECEIVED TWO COMMS BETWEEN THE TIME THEY LEFT THE elevator and the time they reached Dr. Erland’s office—Cinder knew because she could hear the chime from his belt—but he didn’t answer them. He insisted on helping her down the hallway, despite her protests that she could walk just fine, despite the curious stares of passersby. Curious stares did not seem to bother the prince half so much as they bothered her.
He didn’t knock when they reached the office, and Dr. Erland, upon seeing who had burst in without announcement, did not seem surprised when he saw the prince.
“It happened again,” said Kai. “Her fainting, whatever it is.”
Dr. Erland’s blue eyes switched to Cinder.
“It’s gone now,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” said Kai. “What causes it? What can we do to make it stop?”
“I’ll take a look at her,” said Dr. Erland. “We will see what can be done to keep it from happening again.”
Kai seemed to think this was an acceptable answer, but only barely. “If you need funds to do the research…or special equipment, or anything.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said the doctor. “She probably just needs another adjustment.”
Cinder clenched her teeth as her lie detector flashed at her. He was lying to the prince again. He was lying to her. But Kai didn’t object, didn’t question. He sucked in a deep breath and faced Cinder. The expression made her uncomfortable—the look that suggested she was a china doll, easily shattered.