Page 27 of Cinder
It was like being hit by Dorthe’s proposal, with none of the bittersweetness, only the pain and the loss. This had been the one part of his future he had allowed himself to want, to take selfishly for his own, with no blades or blood involved. And now he’d been denied even that.
Cin had to believe it wasn’t the prince’s doing—not purposefully. He hadn’t known Cin’s name. He’d never asked. Perhaps he’d been saddened when he’d realized it, or perhaps it had never even occurred to him when the list had been compiled. Maybe it would have made no difference anyway; Cin was likely as much a passing fancy to Prince Lorenz as he was to Cin.
Cin had seen the castle, had danced with the prince—there were other parties with food and music all across the city. He could enjoy those. They wouldn’t have Prince Lorenz at them, but... he could find a way to appreciate them regardless.
The watch member looked as though they were about to transition from the considerate dismissal to something with more bite. Cin forced himself to nod at them, trying not to look entirely devastated by the news, and stepped out of the line. Each stride away from the gates felt worse than the last. He wanted to scoff at himself.
Cin had not come here for the prince, had not even initially cared to meet him at all. If anything, staying away from the man whose parents had put a price on the Plumed Menace’s head was probably for the best. But the further he walked from the castle’s front entrance, the more Cin was certain: he didn’twantto leave Prince Lorenz behind yet.
Their brief time together had been a light in Cin’s grim, gray life, and there would only be a little time left to bask in that glow before the prince had his future stolen away with an exchanging of rings, and things returned to normal for Cin. Cin was not about to see that time cut short. If Prince Lorenz didn’t want to see him again, then the wonderful, arrogant rake could tell him to his face.
Cin glanced back at the front gate, where the crown’s watch were firmly directing a crying young woman away. He might have been able to slip under their notice so far, but he was fairly certain that causing a scene would just get him kicked out of the city or, worse, arrested. There were ways to get through a wall that didn’t involve gates, however...
After walking his mount a short way down the length of the castle’s wall, the high, gray stone skirted by shops and houses on this side of the city, Cin found a decent enough place where the nearby party lanterns didn’t quite reach and the buildings oneither side of the bare wall were dark. They were just a bit too far off from the wall itself to be worth jumping between. Cinder brushed his fingers along the old, worn brick of the wall and nodded to himself. This would do.
This would do just fine.
His steed dissolved into a flurry of birds as Cin crimped his fingers in between the castle stones and began to climb. Without the magic of his shoes and the gentle guiding lift of his flock, the ascent would have been a ghastly thing, dangerous and torturous, but as things stood, he reached the top with barely a scrape to his finger calluses. He pulled himself over the parapets, dropping onto the top of the wall like a shadow. Perdition landed on his shoulder.
Cin scratched the back of her head, whispering in her ear, “Let’s find ourselves a prince, shall we?”
She cooed in response, giving him a nip of encouragement as though to say,get on with it, then.
“Impatient!” Cin laughed.
Someone—soldier or staff, Cin didn’t know—approached from farther along the wall, and Cin slipped across it before they could come close enough to spot his silhouette in the darkness. He held his breath, and leaped over the far edge. As he fell, his flock spiraled around him. He hit the ground silent and soft, birds zipping out across the grass to either side of him.
Cin found himself at the back of the castle gardens—a better position than he’d expected, so near to the ball but still hidden in the darkness. Despite the joyous noise of the ongoing party though, Cin’s attention caught on a more distant sound from back down the wall, toward the front gate. Something like shouting. If he wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like Prince Lorenz’s voice, raised and twisted with frustration.
He crept in the direction of the upheaval, avoiding the plethora of crown’s watch that seemed to be on guard nearerthe ballroom and staying to the shadows as he wove around a garden house and a few small structures build off the side of the castle wall, ending up near the edge of the main building’s lavish central entrance. From there, he could just make out the conversation happening at the gates. The watch member Cin had spoken with stared at their feet while a man, larger than life in his elegant green and gray jacket, his dusky brown hair fluttering from beneath his circlet and his firm chin held high, snapped at them.
The sight of him caught in Cin’s throat. A part of him begged to rush out and demand the prince’s attention, but the larger part did not know just how to do that—had never forced his body through those motions before, never wanted something badly enough to demand it out loud. So, he watched.
“And you sent himaway?!” Prince Lorenz shouted, his tone incredulous.
The guard continued to look down, and Cin could barely hear their steady but quiet response. “His name was not on the list, Your Royal Highness.”
“I gave you a perfectly clear description! Dashing, long hair nearly white, striking blue eyes, more feathers than the Plumed Menace themself? None of this rings a bell?”
Prince Lorenz was talking aboutCin.
He felt as though, like the magic of his outfit, he’d wished it into being, but hearing that description still plucked at a place in Cin’s chest that he hadn’t been paying attention to. Cin had scaled a wall for the prince’s affections, and here Prince Lorenz was, shouting for the loss of his: like two pieces of a puzzle that slid properly together, even if they were meant only for the moment.
That made it far less dangerous to step out of the shadows, but now Cin’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wantedto see where this would go... What kind of man the next ruler of Hallin truly was, when he didn’t have Cin with him to impress.
“My apologies, Your Royal Highness,” the watch member said. “It won’t happen again.”
“No, it certainly won’t,” Prince Lorenz seemed to threaten, but then he continued, “Becausehewon’t bebackhere again, sincesomeonetold him toleave.” He groaned, not like he was speaking to his lesser but to an annoying sibling. “God, do you remember his name at least?”
The watch member grimaced, clearly thinking back and coming up short. “It might have been... Cinder-Ella? Or something of that nature?”
“Cinder-Ella isn’t even a name,Berit.”Prince Lorenz said the watcher’s as though it proved just what was and wasn’t one. He ran a hand down his face and groaned, before waving toward the awkwardly waiting guests. “What’s done is done. See to the line, I suppose.” His voice lifted, the jovial, arrogant tone Cin was accustomed to returning to it. “My apologies to you all—I hope to see you inside.” He seemed to pick a man out of the crowd in a way he made seem not so random by the purposeful slide of his gaze, and winked, “You especially.”
The speed with which his flirtatious expression dropped the moment his back was turned to his guests made Cin think otherwise.
Behind him, the watch member returned to their duties. They looked mildly embarrassed, chastened, but not the least bit upset or nervous.
By the time Prince Lorenz made it to the castle’s entrance, his gait stormy as his expression, Cin was leaning against the wall just inside the door, his arms crossed. He lifted a purposeful brow. “You don’t even know my name? I’m insulted.”
