Page 70 of Cinder
It took Cin a moment to recognize her out of her dark mourning dress, now clothed in her finest outfit, a pretty yellow dress with ruffles on the ends of the long sleeves, her bodice sweeping low across her luscious chest in a way that made Cin smile. She would have her pick of new partners sooner rather than later. When she noticed Cin, she smiled too, playing with the long silver chain of the necklace that fell between her breasts.
The charm at the end jiggled just a little higher, revealing three feathers, stained in a ruddy brown.
Cin felt equally flattered and bothered by the sight, and that should have been the extent of his emotions, the feathers just another small reminder of the complicated chaos between the blood of his victims and the joy their deaths brought.
Except it wasn’t.
Because as the token of Aldous Earhart’s death slipped free of its bondage between fabric and flesh, someone else pressed in from the crowd around them—someone Cin recognized far quicker, their eyes just as wide with shock as Cin’s. Cin’s stomach lurched.
Floy was moving before he could even step forward, their hat falling from their head as they sprang at Dorthe. Dorthe took a flailing step back, but Floy latched around the chain of her necklace and yanked. It came free, feathers and all.
Cin finally managed to lunge then, his hand reaching instinctively for the blade at his back as he moved. But he couldn’t—this wasFloy—at the royals’ ball—surrounded by the crown’s watch—
He stalled, and it gave Floy just enough time for their fingers to connect with the edge of his cloak. The feathers came free in their hand as they pulled, pressed against the ones from Dorthe’s necklace. Floy’s look of pleasure sent a chill down Cin’s spine. He felt frozen to the garden stonework, the knife still tucked harmlessly at his back screaming at him.
As he stood there, Floy ducked back into the crowd.
Cin’s heart pounded in his chest, and he didn’t know—couldn’t be sure—whether they had enough to prove his identity as the Menace, but he felt it in his gut. Floy knew. Somehow, they’d put all the pieces together.
They’d seen him for who he really was.
But Floy was not someone Cin wanted to be seenby.
Dorthe tried to speak, but Cin patted her shoulder insistently, pressing her toward the path that led, eventually, to the castle’s front gate. “Go! Don’t talk to anyone, just—”
There were already crown’s watch moving toward them to investigate the commotion, but Cin worried more for what they’d do once they knew what Floy had done. He avoided the watchers, sliding his way towards the outer castle wall and Cin scrambled up the side of a planter, peeking out over the heads of the guests. It took him another few moments to spot Floy: weaving their way through the opposite edge of the party, coming up on the main patio where the space had been cleared for Queen Idonia and King Warner.
Cin’s head felt light as one of the royal guards lifted a hand to stop Floy from approaching the queen and king. It was enough to get the queen’s attention, though. She motioned Floy closer. The frantic way Floy spoke was accentuated by their clear certainty. They lifted the Dorthe’s bloody charm, then the torn feathers of Cin’s cloak, and the queen’s eyes lit on them like a fire.
That the feathers looked identical meant nothing, Cin told himself—they were pigeon feathers—but he also knew that if there was a way to prove their origin, whoever did so would find them just as indistinguishable in that as in their appearance. The crown needed only to hold him long enough to do so.
Cin’s world swayed.
“My dove!” Lorenz’s voice sounded so small in the thunder behind Cin’s ears. Larger hands closed around his.
He took a breath, and turned.
Lorenz stood on the garden path, low enough that Cin seemed to be the taller of them now. His eyes were moist. He gave Cin’s fingers a squeeze. “I thought you’d—”
There was no time for that. “Floy is telling your parents about me,” Cin hissed, trying to put the full force of his meaning behind the words.
Lorenz must have gotten it, because his face paled. “You’re certain?” His voice cracked with panic. “I can’t convince them of your innocence a second time.”
“I know—”
At that moment though, a guard—flushed face and damp behind the ears, as though they’d been one of those traipsing through the castle in search for the last hour—pushed into their midst, bowing slightly before barking, “Prince Lorenz, your parents request your immediate presence!”
“One moment—” He turned back to Cin, desperation and despair written in equal parts across his face, but the guard snapped again.
“They were very clear—”
“My God,” Lorenz countered, “I am marrying someone under their duress, they can give me one final minute of freedom,please!”
The guard’s face grew redder still. They bowed their head again, taking a single step back. “If you’d hurry…”
Cin glanced back across the garden, and locked eyes with Queen Idonia across the distance. She did not look happy. The queen nodded to Floy and with a wave, three of her personal watch rushed off the patio. Towards Cin.
The parts of the crowd nearest the guards seemed to notice, but they were quickly distracted by a blast from the trumpets that had first announced the queen and king’s entrance. The party went silent after, letting Queen Idonia’s strong voice ring out across the garden as she spoke with a warmth and confidence her expression had been completely lacking just moment before.
