“I understand that you feel partially responsible for condemning her to execution,” Torin said, his tone growing gentler. “But you have to stop idolizing her.”
“Idolize—” Kai faced him again. “I don’t idolize her.”
Torin gave him a speculative look, until Kai began to grow uncomfortable.
“I might admire her sometimes, but even you have to admit that it’s pretty impressive what she’s done. Plus, she stood up to Levana at the ball. You weren’t impressed by that? Just a little?”
Torin buttoned his suit jacket. “My point, Your Majesty, is that you seem to be putting an awful lot of faith in a girl you know virtually nothing about, and who has caused us all a great deal of trouble.”
Kai scowled. Torin was right, of course. He didn’t know anything about Cinder, no matter how much he felt that he did.
But he was the emperor. He had resources. He may not know much about Cinder, but if she could find out about the lost Lunar princess, then he could find out more about her. And he knew just where to start looking.
Twenty-Three
This time when Cress awoke, it was not sand engulfing her—although there was plenty of that—but arms. Thorne had pulled her against him so close that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest and his breath on the back of her neck. She groggily peeled her eyelids open.
Night had fallen. The moon had returned, larger than the night before and surrounded by a sea of stars that winked and glittered at them.
She was deathly thirsty and couldn’t find any saliva to wet her parched tongue. She started to shiver, despite the layers of sheets and blankets and the parachute and the heat rising off her scorched skin. Despite Thorne’s protective warmth.
Teeth rattling, she nestled against him as much as she could. His embrace tightened around her.
She looked up. The stars were moving, swirling over her head like a whirlpool trying to suck the whole planet into its depths. The stars were taunting her. Laughing.
She shut her eyes tight, and was met with visions of Sybil’s cruel smile. News headlines echoed in her head, spoken in a child’s nasally voice. 14 CITIES ATTACKED … LARGEST MASSACRE IN THIRD ERA … 16,000 DEATHS …
“Cress. Cress, wake up.”
She jolted, still shaking. Thorne was hovering above her, his eyes bright with moonlight.
He found her face, pressed his palm to her forehead, and cursed. “You’re running a fever.”
“I’m cold.”
He rubbed her arms. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not going to like this, but we need to get up. We need to keep moving.”
They were the cruelest words he could have said. She felt impossibly weak. Her whole body seemed to be made of sand that would blow apart with the slightest breeze.
“Cress, are you still with me?” He cupped her cheeks in both hands. His skin was cool, soothing.
“I can’t.” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth when she spoke.
“Yes, you can. It will be better to walk at night when it’s cool than to try and move during the day. You understand that, right?”
“My feet hurt … and I’m so dizzy…”
Thorne grimaced. She thought of stroking her fingers through his hair. In all the pictures she’d seen of him, even his jail pictures, he’d been so polished, so neat. But now he was a wreck, with whiskers on his chin and dirt in his hair. It did not make him any less handsome.
“I know you don’t want to keep going,” he said. “I know you deserve a rest. But if we just lie here, you might never get up.”
She didn’t think that sounded so awful. As the sand began to rock beneath her, she pressed her hand against his chest, seeking out the steadying heartbeat. She sighed happily when she found it. Her body began to dissolve, little grains of sand scattering.…
“Captain,” she murmured. “I think I’m in love with you.”
An eyebrow shot up. She counted six beats of his heart before, suddenly, he laughed. “Don’t tell me it took you two whole days to realize that. I must be losing my touch.”
Her fingertips curled against him. “You knew?”
“That you’re lonely, and I’m irresistible? Yeah. I knew. Come on, Cress, you’re getting up.”
Her head dropped into the sand, sleep threatening to take over. If he would just lie down beside her and take her into his arms, she would never have to get up again.
“Cress—hey, no more sleeping. I need you. Remember the vultures, Cress. Vultures.”
“You don’t need me. You wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for me.”
“Not true. Well … only kind of true. We’ve already been over this.”
She shuddered. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not. And you should stop wasting your energy talking about stupid things.” Scooping an arm beneath her shoulders, he forced her to sit up.
She gripped his wrist. “Do you think you could ever love me back?”
“Cress, this is sweet, but aren’t I the first guy you’ve ever met? Come on, up you go.”
She turned her head away, dread pressing down on her. He didn’t believe her. He didn’t understand how intensely she felt.
“Oh, spades and aces and stars.” He groaned. “You’re not crying again, are you?”
“N-no.” She bit her lip. It wasn’t a lie. She certainly wanted to cry, but her eyes were all dried up.
Thorne pulled a hand through his hair, knocking away a cloud of sand. “Yes,” he said firmly. “We are obviously soul mates. Now please, stand up.”
“You’ve probably told lots of girls you loved them.”
“Well, yeah, but I would have reconsidered if I’d known you were going to hold it against me.”
Misery washing over her, she crumpled against his side. Her head spun. “I’m dying,” she murmured, struck by the certainty of it. “I’m going to die. And I’ve never even been kissed.”
“Cress. Cress. You’re not going to die.”
“We were going to have such a passionate romance, too, like in the dramas. But, no—I’ll die alone, never kissed, not once.”
He groaned, but it was out of frustration, not heartbreak. “Listen, Cress, I hate to break this to you, but I am sweaty and itchy and haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. This just isn’t a good time for romance.”
She squeaked and tucked her head between her knees, trying to get the world to stop turning so fast. The hopelessness of their situation was crushing her. The desert would never end. They would never get out. Thorne would never love her back.
“Cress. Look at me. Are you looking at me?”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.
Thorne hesitated. “I don’t believe you.”
Sighing, she pried her head up so she could peer at him through the curtain of chopped hair. “I’m looking at you.”
He crouched close to her and felt for her face. “I promise, I will not let you die without being kissed.”
“I’m dying now.”
“You are not dying.”
“But—”
“I will be the judge of when you are dying, and when that happens, I guarantee you will get a kiss worth waiting for. But right now, you have to get up.”
She stared at him for a long moment. His eyes were surprisingly clear, almost like he could see her back, and he didn’t flinch before her skeptical silence. He didn’t grin nonchalantly or offer a teasing follow-up. He just waited.
She couldn’t help it when her attention drifted down to his mouth, and she felt something stir inside her. Resolve.