Page 71 of Cinder
“Welcome, my esteemed friends! As you well know, our dear Prince Lorenz has spent the last six weeks courting the most eligible young people in the kingdom in search of a partner who will support him as he begins his role as your some-day king. My husband and I are honored by each gracious and…” The queen continued, but Cin could no longer focus on the words, as the watch members she’d sent out continued to wind their way through the crowd towards him, acquiring more help with each watcher they passed.
“You must go,” Lorenz said, yet he seemed incapable of releasing Cin’s hand. He held it tighter. “Flee immediately to Falchovari, or beyond. Don’t look back.”
Don’t look back. It was what Cin had been half-dreaming of all day. But now that it was time, the thought sunk like a rock in his stomach. “I can’t leave you—”
It was more than the Frog Prince’s command: it was the truth. Cin couldn’t walk joyously into his future without Lorenz at his side. Without his prince, he’d always be looking back.
“I’ll find you, wherever you are. I’ll follow your feathers,” Lorenz promised, squeezing Cin’s fingers. “I won’t forget my affection for you.”
“I know you won’t,” Cin said, and he wanted, so desperately, to believe it.
“You told me the magic means your shoes fit only you?” Lorenz asked. It was such an abrupt question that Cin nodded on instinct. He had not managed to add a verbal affirmative before his prince continued, “Give me one of them, quick.”
The royal guards were almost upon them, yet Cin found himself stripping one elfin-made shoe off and handing it to Lorenz as though that were the most natural thing imaginable.
Lorenz took it with both hands, holding it against his chest. “I’ll make enough chaos to cover you. Now go!”
Cin leaped from the planter, scrambling through the last few throngs of people between himself and the castle’s outer wall. His heart pounded in his ears, but he could just make out the pushing of the guards behind him as people exclaimed softly. He was smaller and lighter than them, though, no armor or heavy weapons to weigh him down. When he reached the wall, he launched himself up, using the magic of his remaining shoe to hold himself there as he found the cracks and irregularities he needed to pull himself up, once, then twice, then he was out of the guards’ range.
He kept moving, up and onto the top of the wall. Cin dropped his body over the other side, his single shoe bracing him to the stone. Freedom called, but the moment his gaze found thegarden’s patio, he could no longer force himself to move. Queen Idonia continued her announcement, her husband behind her.
“And so, without adding further anticipation to the matter, we are pleased to announce our son’s upcoming engagement,” the queen declared, and Cin felt like he was falling, “to—”
Before Queen Idonia could bless one of the select few standing behind her with the future sovereignty, Lorenz burst into the cleared patio space, hurling himself in front of his mother with a hand raised high.
“My engagement will be to the gentlest and fairest of the land, as decided by the lightest of magics,” he shouted, and in his fist he displayed Cin’s magical shoe. “My hand in marriage will go to the person whose foot herein fits!”
The garden erupted into chaotic applause, confusion and delight tearing through the crowd as the queen and king watched on in shock.
Cin dropped to the ground outside the castle walls, the first of a show of fireworks blasting off above him.
Twenty-Nine
It was a shame Cin couldn’t have flaunted his way down to the stage, just to see the reaction of the crowd as the magic of his shoe fit it perfectly to his foot. A shame, because each step away from the prince hurt like barbs being yanked from deep within his soul. A shame, because now that he’d dropped away from Lorenz’s side, he might as well have dropped out of his life entirely, if the cage around his heart had anything to do with it.
He should have at least kissed Lorenz goodbye.
Cin could focus on little else as his flock-creature carried him out of the city, the fireworks popping in swells of light and color behind him. It would have taken a single second. One final kiss, in case it was their last. A memory to hold onto. As though the hundred they’d shared already weren’t enough.
But theyweren’t.
They never would be.
Cin wiped a hand over his blurring eyes and kept riding. He could barely see the road before him, yet his mount carried him towards home with long, steady strides. Perdition was still there, with what little he owned. If he was to start a new life without Lorenz, Cin at least needed her.
Before Cin had time to process everything that had happened, much less all that he would have to do in the coming hours, days, and weeks to restart a full life in a new place—no home, no skills, no money—he was standing before the Reinholzes’ dark, empty estate, his magical glamor still cloaking his outfit, and his mount beside him.
It had been a beautiful house once, he thought. In many ways it still was, with its impressive silhouette, vines overgrowing its edges. It wasn’t his, though, no matter what grave lay in the garden, or how many times he’d lit those hearths. His own family had never made it into a home for him, only a place to work.
With a shaky breath, he walked up the front steps for the last time.
The chill seemed to permeate everything inside the house, deeper and more treacherous than the cold night beyond its walls. Cin tucked his arms around himself as he passed from the foyer into the first parlor. From the shadows, something lunged for him.
He hissed a sound almost like a scream as he grabbed for the knife strapped to the back of his belt. Too quick for him, frail hands gripped his arms, then wrapped around his back. Not an attack, but ahug.
“Cinder-Szule,” Emma sobbed quietly, clinging to him.
“Emma?” Gently as he could, Cin detached her hold on him so that he could see her better, his eyes fighting with the darkness. Her ball dress felt grimy, her hair half-fallen from the delicate wraps Cin had put in for her that morning.
