Page 46 of Cinder
Queen Idonia still looked concerned, but something else crept into her voice. “Ren,” she asked, almost hesitantly, “You truly do care very deeply about this man?”
“I do indeed; well enough to know that he is not the villain you want,” the prince repeated.
“He convinced you to leave the castle, and I hear thecity, even, without your watch! And you—” She lowered her voice. “Youkilleda man. ThisCinder-Ella—if that is even his name—may not be the Plumed Menace, but he is not”—she looked almost ashamed now to say it in the same room as Cin as she finished under her breath—“an appropriatepartner.”
“That is fine, then,” Prince Lorenz snapped, “because I’m certainly notmarryinghim.”
Cin’s chest ached at the words. It was just the way it was said—the sureness, like any other outcome would be preferable. Cin had always insisted he was not there for the prince. But the prince had been here for him just moments before, and now...
It was nothing.
Cinwas not marryingPrince Lorenz, anyway.
“But youaremarrying,” Queen Idonia snapped.
“You need someone at your side,” his father added, gentler, setting a hand on his wife’s shoulder as he said it. Some of her frustration slipped away beneath his touch, though a renewed determination seemed to compensate for it.
“So you say!” The prince looked one wrong step away from exploding, not in anger but something more miserable, dark and suffering.
As much as Cin’s heart continued to hurt for whatever senseless, useless reason, he still wanted to reach for Prince Lorenz, to take the prince in his arms and tell him that he could have all he wished from life—nothing more and nothing less. But he was the last person who could offer that to anyone, particularly not if the queen and king were bent on denying it.
Prince Lorenz seemed to work through enough of his emotions on his own, though, lifting his chin to meet his parents’ gaze head on. “I will promise you this, then—if you allow me friendship with whomever I wish, then you can pick my partner at the end of next week’s ball. Choose any candidate you think suits this country. I don’t care. I’ll marry them. But leave Cinder-Ella, and my affection for him, alone. He’s been through enough. He deserves not to lose anything more.”
In a little huff, the queen turned to her husband. King Warner muttered something to her under his breath, and it seemed they were continuing a conversation they’d had many times. Finally, the queen shook her head dismissively.
“We’ll continue to discuss your partnership later,” she said.
Prince Lorenz looked away.
Cin’s chest ached for him. His arms felt strangely empty—empty, like his heart.
“Until then, you may have this friendship of yours, so long as itstayswithin the castle walls,” Queen Idonia told her son. “Your father and I do not leave here without someone else to wield the blade, and neither will you. There will not be a repeat of your impulses, regardless of the circumstances. A king’s duty is to the protection of his people’s lives, never the taking of them.”
They could not know that their son had done just that by taking the blame for Cin.
As Prince Lorenz’s mother passed him with a pat on his shoulder, her gaze fixed on Cin. Behind her, King Warner chided the prince softly, but Cin could focus on nothing but the queen as she stopped before him, her grandeur dimmed only by a hint of shame.
“Our apologies for the ordeal we’ve subjected you to,” she said, and Cin couldn’t tell whether she was genuine, but perhaps her sincerity was less important than the words themselves, and their offer of a truce. “We felt the evidence of your involvement was too strong to deny, but it appears we had only part of the story.” She glanced back at her son warily. “It seems that impulsive protective measures run in our family.”
“You thought you might learn what happened to your son. That’s not a sin.” No more than anything Cin had done, anyway. He found, despite the terror of her treatment, that he could not blame her for it. Least of all because shehadfound the Plumed Menace—he just hadn’t been the one responsible for her eldest’s demise.
The queen nodded. “We thank you for your understanding.Andfor your silence in all that has transpired in this room.”
“I assure you," Cin replied, "I would bleed my last drop for your son before I let him feel the wrath of the world.” It was a risk, but by the tilt of appreciation in the queen’s chin, Cin thought he’d judged well.
“As you should,” she said.
“He’s a good man.” Cin believed that. “He’ll be a good king.” He believed that too. Whether the prince wanted the role or not, he’d take care of the kingdom, though the work might make him miserable in the process.
Even the king smiled faintly from Prince Lorenz’s side as his wife replied, “We know he will.”
And her tone was clear: they knew—knew how much he didn’t want this. And wished, too, that he had another choice. But the man they’d all expected to lead after them was gone now. All they had left was Lorenz, forced into shoes he couldn’t fit by people who understood just how great a mismatch this would always be. Perhaps that was why they were pushing so hard for him to take a partner? They thought that if he had someone at his side who wanted to do the work, he’d feel relief.
“Enjoy the remainder of the ball,” the queen said, giving her son a final narrow-eyed look as she left, and Cin was pretty sure that meant:don’t spend all your time withhim.
If he wasn’t marrying Cin, the prince had to marry someone, after all.
The king nodded to Cin, and left behind his wife. Cin could hear the footsteps of their guards pick up partway down the hall, then begin to fade into the distance. The bubble of the underground waterway replaced their sound, and it was just Cin and Prince Lorenz, watching each other from what seemed like a hundred miles apart.
