Huffing, Iko planted her hands on her hips. Her concern lasted for a few moments before she beamed again. “I know. I’ll choose my ten favorites and sell the rest on escort-droid costuming feeds. We can use the proceeds to build schools in the outer sectors, or something charitable like that.” Fingering a fine lace sleeve, she glanced at Cinder. “What do you think?”
If Cinder’s eyes reflected her moods, they would have been sapphire-blue proud. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Iko beamed and started working her way through the racks again, narrowing down her favorites, while Cinder turned to face her reflection in the mirror that had been loaned to her from one of the Earthen s.p.a.ceships. She was still getting used to seeing herself looking so … queenly.
Her own gown was brand-new. Although she had intended to wear one of Winter’s dresses again, a few Artemisian seamstresses had pleaded to be allowed to design her coronation dress, proclaiming what an honor it would be. Cinder hadn’t even known she had expectations until the dress surpa.s.sed them.
Done up in Luna’s official colors of white, red, and black, the gown was made of more material than she’d ever seen in her life. The heavy white skirt draped around her like a bell, with a ma.s.sive train that would follow her down the long, long aisle. Red and black gems were beaded along the skirt’s hem and woven through the bodice. A modest neckline with capped sleeves fit her perfectly.
She had expected the seamstresses to also make gloves to cover her cyborg hand, but they didn’t. “No gloves,” one of the seamstresses said when she asked. “And no veil.”
A knock drew her attention to the door and the guard, Kinney, entered. “Your Majesty,” he greeted. His respectful expression turned sour as he addressed Iko, “Madame Counselor.”
Iko’s eyes went coppery with pride at her new t.i.tle, even though she met the guard with a sour glare of her own.
“Yes, Kinney?” said Cinder.
“The captain and his crew are requesting an audience.”
“Ha!” Thorne’s voice carried from the corridor. “I told you I could get him to call me the captain.”
Cinder rolled her eyes. “Let them in.”
They poured in before Kinney could admit them, all grinning and dressed formally for the occasion. Even Wolf was wearing a suit, though Cinder couldn’t imagine it had been easy to find one to fit his altered body on such short notice. His red shirt matched Scarlet’s stunning red dress, the fabric clashing spectacularly with her hair. Thorne was in a tuxedo and bow tie. He came in pushing Cress along on her floating contraption—Cinder had heard that her wounds were healing well and she was expected to be walking in short bursts by the end of the week. She was wearing one of Winter’s gauzy yellow dresses, hemmed to fit her. Jacin was in his guard uniform, but had replaced the normal shoulder armor with dashing epaulets, making him almost prince-like beside Winter, who was even more breathtaking than usual in a white gown that would have looked plain on anyone else. Kai followed the group in a black dress shirt with a mandarin collar.
He was carrying a silver platter topped with a round, single-tiered cake covered in swirls of pale yellow frosting. Cinder knew immediately that it wasn’t from the royal pastry chefs, whose creations were almost too immaculate to touch. This cake, with its messy frosting and lack of decoration, was remarkably unpretentious.
With a bow, the guard slipped out the door. Iko stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.
“What’s going on?” said Cinder. “The coronation starts in twenty minutes. You should all be seated by now.”
“It was my idea,” said Iko, bouncing on her toes. “I knew you’d be nervous, so I thought we’d have a celebration first.”
“And you made a cake?”
“Scarlet did,” said Thorne.
Scarlet brushed her hair off her shoulder. “It’s a lemon cake. My grandmother’s special recipe. But”—her gaze swooped down Cinder’s dress—“you might want to wait until after the coronation so you don’t get frosting all over yourself.”
Winter snorted and grabbed the tray away from Kai. “Let’s not be cruel. One should never save cake for later when it can be eaten now.” She slid the cake onto a priceless silk divan.
“I’ve never had cake before,” said Cress, drawing plenty of surprised looks. She was holding Thorne’s hand, but for once she didn’t shrink closer to him, even being the center of attention.
Iko crossed her arms. “Can we please not start listing all the wonderful, marvelous food we’ve never had?”
“That settles it, then,” said Thorne. “Who brought the silverware?”
No one had, so Jacin offered his dagger instead. They took turns cutting off bite-size chunks of cake and frosting and eating it with their fingers until the cake resembled little more than the crater-pocked surface of the moon.
Naturally, Cinder got some on her gown—a smear of yellow frosting on the enormous skirt. She was mortified until Iko adjusted the skirt so the folds would hide it.
“It was inevitable,” Iko said with a wink. “It’s part of your charm.”
Cinder started to laugh, but was startled into silence by a sudden hiccup in her chest.
She looked around, at the smiles and the arms draped over shoulders and Winter daintily licking b.u.t.tercream from her fingers. At the homemade cake. A gathering of friends. A celebration, for her. They were silly things to be floored by, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never had these things before.