Page 72 of Cinder
She had not once looked at him through that entire process, no “thank you” at the end, no smile or laugh. Now, at least, came the emotions. Though not the ones Cin wished.
His heart ached as he held her, cupping her face with his hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Emma sniffled out. “I left the ball.”
Despite himself, Cin almost laughed. “I can see that. But why? How did you get back?”
“I walked.” Emma leaned a little too hard against Cin’s hold as she said it, and he nearly stumbled as she did. Carefully, he settled her down on the nearest chair. In the back of his mind, he knew he had little time to waste.
But he could hardly focus on that when Emma was here, dirty and crying. “Whydid you come back, Emma? What’s wrong?”
She sniffled again, and began anxiously twisting her hair in one of her hands. “We got into the city and I just—I didn’twantto be there anymore. Not without you. It was the last night, and you were supposed to get to go—Mother hadpromisedme. So I—I left.”
Cin’s heart ached. She hadn’t even known he’d left; hadn’t heard his fight with their family or seen him storm out the door. And no one had bothered to tell her. He put his fingers over hers, gently stopping her frantic motion before she could add any new knots to the mess already tumbling halfway off her head. “Oh, Emma.”
“You weren’there,though.” She sounded sullen—not accusatory, simplysad.
Cin felt sad, too—sad, just for a moment, not to live in the world where he’d never loved Prince Lorenz, and had instead been sitting in the parlor with a roaring fire in the hearth, ready to sweep his little sister into his arms the moment she arrived. Maybe in that world, it would have been her love that propelled him toward a brighter future; they could have planned to fleetogether, hand in hand, with both of their family’s horses and all the money they could filch over the course of months.
Maybe.
“I’m sorry,” Cin said. As he knelt there in front of her, he could feel the small shivers beneath her cold skin. “Here, this will help.” He rose, pressing his lips to Emma’s forehead before moving to light the hearth. The logs smoked and went out, and he was forced to add more kindling to help them catch.
By the time he’d finished, Emma’s gaze was on him, sharp and bright. “You… have an outfit?”
“It’s magic. I’ve been to all the balls, in this, riding a horse made of my pigeons.” It sounded absurd even with the mention of magic, but Emma only nodded as Cin continued, “I just couldn’t let Mother know, until now.”
“I’m not Mother.” She looked so tragic as she said it, like she was realizing why that didn’t make a difference, and hoping desperately that Cin would correct her.
He couldn’t. “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”
“But youdon’ttrust me,” she said, then sniffled again, “Because I’mirresponsibleandincompetent.” She said them the way that Louise did, a little flare on -sponseand -comp, like those parts of the words were offending her. The little hiccup that followed cut the intimation short, though.
“No, Emma,” Cin said, even though he wanted to sayyes Emma, get a fucking grip. But for all the things he should have said a long time ago, he didn’t think that was one of them. “You’re inexperienced, but that’s not your fault. It’s Mother’s, and Floy’s, and Manfred’s, and even our goddamn father’s for all putting every responsibility on me and never finding you the things that you can learn to be good at. You’re capable of so much—you just proved that, for fuck’s sake! You walked all the way back from the capital in the dark, alone, wearing—Oh God, your poorfeet.”
Now that the logs had caught, Cin could see Emma’s state properly, her dress torn and ragged and her hands and face dirty. But worst of all were her feet: scraped and cut, cracked with blood and dirt covering the sides. He could see each red-brown place she’d stepped since arriving.
Cin wanted to protect her all the more for it, but somehow, he got the sense that this was a sign of the opposite: Emma was more capable than he’d imagined.
“There were wolves,” she said, oddly timid about it. “My heels were caught in the dirt, so I took them off.”
“You walked here alone, in the dark, with thewolves.” Cin laughed.“Emma!”
“Sorry?” Emma said meekly. A little tug came into the edge of her lips though.
Cin sighed and gave her hair a ruffle. “Stay put. I’ll get some water and wrappings for them.”
He could almost hear the back of his mind screaming now:you have to leave. They’ll be on to you soon. Caring for her is not worth your future.
Still, Cin shot the voice down. He had time. “Keep watch out the front for me, won’t you?” he said as he left the room. “Let me know if anyone is coming down the lane.”
“Okay,” Emma chimed. “Are you waiting for someone?”
It made more sense to lie, but… hadn’t he done that enough? He’d just told her that it wasn’t her fault that no one had given her the opportunity to grow. She, who had run from wolves on bloody feet. “The palace guards,” Cin called down the hall. “They think I’m the Plumed Menace.”
He listened closely to the silence from the parlor as his heart beat, then Emma said with genuine confusion, “But youarethe Plumed Menace, aren’t you?”
Cin froze, the water pail from the kitchen halfway to his hip. “What do you mean?”
