Winter (The Lunar Chronicles #4) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,131

runner was black and set with rhinestones in mimicry of the night sky. Or, the always sky, as it was here on Luna.

A hush fell over the room, and Kai could tell it was not a normal hush. It was too controlled, too flawless.

His heart pounded, uncontrolled in its cage. This was the moment he’d been dreading, the fate he’d fought against for so long. No one was going to interfere. He was alone and rooted to the floor.

At the far back of the room, the massive doors opened, chorused with a fanfare of horns. At the end of the aisle, two shadows emerged—a man and a woman in militaristic uniforms carrying the flags of Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth. After they parted, setting the flags into stands on either side of the altar, a series of Lunar guards marched into the room, fully armed and synchronized. They, too, spread out when they reached the altar, like a protective wall around the dais.

Next down the aisle were six thaumaturges dressed in black, walking in pairs, graceful as black swans. They were followed by two in red, and finally Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park, all in white.

A voice dropped down from some hidden speakers. “All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna.”

The people rose.

Kai clasped his shaking hands behind his back.

She appeared as a silhouette first in the lights of the doors, a perfect hourglass dropping off to a full billowing skirt that flowed behind her. She walked with her head high, gliding toward the altar. The dress was scarlet red, rich as blood, with dainty gold chains draped around her shoulders. It reminded Kai of a bloodred poppy, the petals full and drooping. A sheer gold veil covered her face and billowed like a sail as she walked.

When she was close enough, Kai could make out hints of her face through the veil. Her lips had been painted to match the dress and her eyes burned with victory. She strode onto the dais and paused at Kai’s side. The skirt’s hem pooled at her feet.

“You may be seated,” said the disembodied voice.

The crowd shuffled into their seats. Prime Minister Kamin lifted her portscreen from the altar. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lunars and Earthens,” she began, a hidden microphone carrying her voice over the crowd. “We gather today to witness a historical union of Earth and Luna—an alliance formed by trust and mutual respect. This is a significant moment in our history that will forever symbolize the enduring relationship of the people of Luna and the people of Earth.”

She paused to let her words sink into the crowd. Kai wanted to gag.

The prime minister focused on the bride and groom. “We are here to witness the marriage of Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth and Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna.”

Kai met Levana’s gaze through her veil. Her taunting smile chased all his denial away.

Cinder was captured or dead. The wedding would go on as planned; the coronation would take place in two days’ time.

It was just him, now. The last line of defense between Levana and Earth.

So be it.

He set his jaw and returned his focus to their officiant. He gave a small nod. The wedding began.

Forty-Seven

“The groom will now take his ribbon and tie it three times around his bride’s left wrist, symbolizing the love, honor, and respect that will forever bind their matrimony,” said Prime Minister Kamin, unwinding a length of velvet ribbon from a spool. She picked up the polished silver scissors from the tray and snipped off the length of ribbon.

Kai tried not to make a face as Kamin laid the ribbon across his palms. It was shimmering and ivory, the color of the full moon, as opposed to the silky blue ribbon already wrapped around his own wrist, the color of Earth.

It felt like his consciousness was hovering above him, watching as his fingers wrapped the ribbon around Levana’s bone-thin wrist—once, twice, three times—finishing it off with a simple knot. There was no grace to it and the ribbon was probably too loose, a side effect of his unwillingness to brush her skin with his fingertips. When she had tied his, she had practically given him a wrist massage that had made him squirm on the inside.

“I will now knot the two ribbons together,” said Prime Minister Kamin, in her measured, serene voice. She had not faltered once during the ceremony. “This is to symbolize the unity of the bride and groom and also of