Emerging from the hallway, she found herself at the top of a grand staircase that cascaded into the ballroom. A row of guards and servants flanked the stairs, their faces as unreadable as those in the hall. The high ceiling had been hung with hundreds of crimson paper lanterns, each one glimmering with rich, golden light. The far wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the gardens. Rain pummeled the glass, almost louder than the orchestra.
The dance floor had been set up in the center with round tables surrounding the space. Each table was bedecked with lavish orchid centerpieces and jade sculptures. The walls of the room were lined with folding silk screens hand painted with designs of cranes and tortoises and bamboo, ancient symbols of longevity that hinted at a single defining message: Long live the Emperor.
From her vantage point, she could see the entire room, thriving with vibrant silks and crinolines, rhinestones and ostrich plumes. She sought out Kai.
He wasn’t hard to find—dancing. The crowd parted for him and his partner, the most beautiful, most graceful, most divine woman in the room. The Lunar queen. Cinder couldn’t stifle a gasp of bewilderment at the sight of her.
Her stomach flipped, the momentary awe turning to revulsion. The queen held a poised smile, but Kai’s expression was as unfeeling as stone as they waltzed across the marble floor.
Cinder stepped back from the stairs before the queen noticed her. She scanned the crowd, convinced that Kai had not made his announcement yet, or the atmosphere in the room wouldn’t be so jolly. Kai was fine. He was safe. All she had to do was find a way to speak with him, somewhere private, and tell him the queen’s plans. Tell him the queen knew about his search for her niece. Then it would be up to him to put off accepting the queen’s terms until—
Well, Cinder knew nothing could put Queen Levana off forever without convincing her to start the war she’d been threatening for so long.
But maybe, just maybe, Princess Selene could be found before that happened.
Letting out a slow breath, Cinder stepped out of the massive doorway and ducked behind the nearest pillar, stumbling on her tiny foot. Gritting her teeth, she glanced around, but the nearby guards and servants remained as disinterested as a concrete wall.
Cinder plastered herself against the column, trying to smooth back her hair so she could at least pretend to be fitting in.
The music ceased and the crowd began to applaud.
She dared to peer down at the dance floor and saw Kai and Levana parting ways—he with a stiff bow and she with the grace of a geisha. As the orchestra started again, the entire ballroom joined in the dancing.
Cinder followed the queen’s glossy brunette curls heading toward a staircase on the other side of the room, the crowd parting eagerly before her. She scanned for Kai again, and found him heading in the opposite direction—toward her.
Holding her breath, she inched away from the protective column. This was her chance. If only he would look up and see her. If only he would come to her. She could tell him everything and then slip away into the night and no one would ever have to know she’d been there at all.
She bunched the silver gown up in her fists, her eyes boring holes into the emperor’s head, willing him to look up. Look up. Look up.
Kai froze with a look of mild perplexity, and Cinder thought with a jolt that she’d succeeded—had she just used her Lunar gift?
But then she noticed a spot of gold beside Kai, a frilly sleeve brushing his arm. Her breath caught.
It was Pearl, brushing her fingertips against Kai’s elbow. She was full of dazzling smiles and fluttering lashes as she dipped into a curtsy.
Stomach clenching, Cinder sank back against the pillar.
Pearl started to talk, and Cinder monitored Kai’s expressions as her pulse pounded in her ears. At first, he only attempted a weary smile, but soon there was confusion. Surprise. An uncertain frown. She tried to guess what Pearl was saying: Yes, I am the girl from the festival this morning. No, Cinder is not coming. We wouldn’t disrespect this momentous occasion by allowing my ugly cyborg stepsister to attend. Oh—didn’t you know she’s cyborg?
Cinder shuddered, her eyes glued to the two of them. Pearl was going to tell Kai everything, and there was nothing she could do but watch and wait for the horrible moment when Kai realized he’d been flirting with a cyborg. He would want nothing more to do with her. He wouldn’t want to hear her excuses. She would be forced to stumble after him to tell him the reason she’d come, feeling like the disgrace she was.
Someone cleared his throat, and Cinder jumped out of her growing anxiety, nearly twisting her ankle. One of the servants had evidently gotten tired of standing motionless and impartial and was now looking her over with barely veiled revulsion.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, with a tightness to his voice. “I must scan your ID.”
Cinder instinctively pulled her hand away from him, pressing her wrist against her stomach. “Why?”
His eyes darted to the row of guards, ready to call on them to have her escorted out at any moment. “To ensure you’re on the guest list, of course,” he said, holding up a small handheld scanner.
Cinder pressed her back into the pillar, nerves humming. “But—I thought every citizen in the city was invited.”
“Indeed, they are.” The man grinned, looking almost gleeful at the prospect of disinviting the girl before him. “But we must ensure that we are receiving those who responded to their invitations. It’s a security measure.”
Gulping, Cinder glanced out toward the dance floor. Kai was still being hounded by Pearl, and now Cinder could see Adri hovering not far off, looking primed to jump into the conversation should Pearl say anything to embarrass her. Pearl had not dropped her shy, flirtatious charm. She stood with her head bowed and one hand gingerly pressed against her collarbone.
Kai still looked perplexed.
Goose bumps racing up her arms, Cinder turned back to the courtier and attempted to channel Peony’s cheerful innocence. “Of course,” she said. Holding her breath, she stretched out her arm. She was concocting a number of excuses, justifications—her RSVP must have gotten mixed up with someone else’s, or perhaps there was confusion as her stepmother and sister had already arrived without her, or—