Stars Above: A Lunar Chronicles Collection (The Lunar Chronicles)(76)

“I’ll do my best.” He headed back for the door, and a smile so quick and secretive passed between him and Iko that Cinder almost missed it. Iko didn’t take her gaze from him until he was gone.

“He could have come with us, you know,” said Cinder, glancing around the room one last time.

Iko shook her head. “He has a painfully strong work ethic. It’s one of his more annoying characteristics.”

Cinder chuckled. “Well, nobody’s perfect.”

“Speak for yourself.” Iko spun back to her and clapped her hands excitedly. “Are you ready? Can we go?”

Cinder sucked in another breath. “Yes, I think so.” She frowned. “You don’t think it’s a mistake to leave, do you?”

“Mistake?”

“It’s just … the new parliament only took office six weeks ago. What if something goes wrong? What if they need me?”

“Then they can send you a comm.” Iko settled her hands on Cinder’s shoulders. “You’re an ambassador to Earth now, Cinder. So it’s time you got yourself to Earth and started doing some ambassadorizing.”

Cinder cocked her head to one side. “That’s not a word.”

“It should be. Besides, the Grand Minister has had more assistance and transition into his gig than you had when you took the throne. He’ll be fine.” She locked her elbow with Cinder’s and dragged her toward the door. “Now, come on. Paris awaits!”

“We’re not going to Paris.”

“It’s close enough for me.”

Cinder set aside her resistance as she and Iko made their way through the palace-turned-government-headquarters. The white marble. The towering glass windows. The sea of stars in the black sky beyond.

She couldn’t decide if she was sad or thrilled to be leaving. Iko kept up enough enthusiastic chatter that her worries began to calm, and she was right. Though Cinder had been heavily involved in the transition to the new governmental system—advising the elected leaders as much as she could once they’d taken office—her role was already becoming moot. It had been decided early on that she would continue to be involved in Lunar politics, but as an advisor and ambassador, like Winter. She was in a unique position to continue smoothing the relations between Earth and Luna, after all, and …

Kai.

She was desperate to see Kai again. To kiss him. To be in his arms. To laugh at his ironic jokes and watch his eyes crinkle when he laughed at hers.

It was easy for Cinder to justify the desperation because—unromantic as it may have been—she knew that together, she and Kai had the power to do more for the prejudices between their people than any amount of political discussions could hope to accomplish.

When she and Iko entered the spaceship docks that were located beneath the palace, the Rampion was the first thing she saw. It was enormous compared to most of the small royal podships lined up in neat rows. Its metal plating was beat-up and dingy, its cargo-toting body almost cumbersome when compared to the sleek designs that surrounded it. But it was beautiful, and its lowered cargo ramp was more welcoming than any red carpet.

Thorne and Cress were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, and when Cress and Iko spotted each other they shared a squeal. Thorne and Cinder shared a cringe, and then they were all smiling and embracing as if they hadn’t seen each other in years—even though they still got together with some regularity. Thorne and Cress’s role in distributing the letumosis antidote to Earth brought them to Artemisia every time there was a new breakout, and it was those intermittent moments of easy friendship that had helped to keep Cinder sane as she struggled to grasp the intricacies of Lunar transportation systems, trade policies, and educational mandates.

With his arms draped over Cinder’s and Iko’s shoulders, Thorne guided them up the ramp. “How does it feel to be a layperson again, Miss Linh?”

“Wonderful,” she said. “I never want to hear the words Your Majesty ever again.”

“Never? Never ever?” Thorne quirked an eyebrow at her. “What if there was an Imperial thrown in between them? Would that change your mind?”

Cinder clenched her jaw, glad that his teasing couldn’t rile a blush from her. With a sharp elbow jab to his side, she extricated herself from beneath his arm. “How’s the ship been holding up?”

“Nice dodge,” said Thorne, dropping his other arm from Iko and hooking a thumb over his belt. “But as your question is pertinent, I’ll allow it. There’s actually been a rattle in the compression system for the past month or so.”

Cinder glanced up at the ceiling of the cargo bay, even though she couldn’t hear anything with the systems powered down.

“I told him to take it to a mechanic when we were in Dublin last week,” said Cress.

“And I told her that I already have a mechanic,” said Thorne, pointing at Cinder.

Cress shrugged apologetically.

“It’s fine,” said Cinder. “I kind of miss the work, actually. I’ll check it out when we’re in the air.”

Thorne clapped his hands. “Great, then let’s get this diplomatic envoy started. Ship, raise the ramp! You all just sit back and relax and we’ll be on Earth in no time.” He turned to head for the cockpit, adding over his shoulder, “I’ve been practicing takeoffs, by the way. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”