It felt like his consciousness was hovering above him, watching as his fingers wrapped the ribbon around Levana’s bone-thin wrist—once, twice, three times—finishing it off with a simple knot. There was no grace to it and the ribbon was probably too loose, a side effect of his unwillingness to brush her skin with his fingertips. When she had tied his, she had practically given him a wrist massage that had made him squirm on the inside.

“I will now knot the two ribbons together,” said Prime Minister Kamin, in her measured, serene voice. She had not faltered once during the ceremony. “This is to symbolize the unity of the bride and groom and also of Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth, which represents the planet of Earth on this, the eighth day of November in the 126th year of the third era.” She took the ends of each ribbon between her fingers.

Kai watched with detached interest as her dark, slender fingers knotted the two ribbons together. She yanked on the ends, tightening the knot. Kai stared at it, feeling the disconnect in his mind.

He was not here.

This was not happening.

His hateful gaze betrayed him, flickering toward Levana’s face. It was the briefest of looks, but she somehow managed to catch it. She smiled, and icicles stabbed at his spine.

This was happening. This was his bride.

Levana’s lips twitched behind her veil. He could hear her voice, though she didn’t open her lips, accusing him of an endearing, bashful crush, chastising his youth and innocence at such a moment. He couldn’t tell if the voice was his own taunting imagination or something she was injecting into his thoughts.

And he would never know.

He was marrying a woman who would forever hold this power over him.

How different she was from Cinder. Selene. Her niece, though it didn’t seem possible the two had anything in common, especially their ancestry.

Thinking of Cinder brought back the painful memory of the cyborg finger on a bed of silk and Kai shuddered.

The officiant paused, but Kai was already reconfiguring his expression. He let out a steady breath and gave her a subtle nod to continue.

Kamin reached for her portscreen, and Kai grasped at the momentary pause, trying to compose himself. He thought of the mutants murdering innocent civilians. He thought of his father dying in the palace quarantine while an antidote existed in Levana’s control. He thought of all the lives he would be saving by stopping this war and obtaining the cure.

“We will now commence with the exchanging of vows, as set forth by the council of leaders of the Earthen Union, beginning with the groom. Please, repeat after me.” Kamin glanced up to make sure Kai was paying attention. “I, Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth of Earth…”

He repeated, as accommodating as an android.

“… take as my wife and the future empress of the Eastern Commonwealth, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna…”

He was out of his body again. Looking down. Listening to the words, but not understanding them. They held no meaning.

“… to rule at my side with grace and justice, to honor the laws of the Earthen Union as laid out by our forefathers, to be an advocate for peace and fairness among all peoples.”

Did anyone believe a word of this rubbish?

“From this day forward, she will be my sun at dawn and my moon at night, and I vow to love and cherish her for all our days.”

Who wrote these vows anyway? He’d never heard anything so ridiculous in his life.

But he said them, with no emotion and even less interest. Prime Minister Kamin gave him a nod, akin to a well done, and turned to Levana. “Now, the bride will repeat after me…”

Kai tuned out Levana’s voice, examining their bound wrists instead. Was the ribbon around his wrist growing tighter? His fingers were beginning to tingle with numbness. He was losing circulation. But the ribbon curled innocently against his skin.

Stars above, it was warm in here.

“… and I vow to love and cherish him for all our days.”

Kai snorted. Loudly.

He’d meant for it to be kept inside, but it just slipped out.

Levana tensed and the officiant speared him with a sharp look.

Kai coughed in an attempt to smooth over the moment. “Sorry. There was something in my—” He coughed again.

Terse wrinkles formed around Kamin’s mouth as she turned back to the queen. “Your Royal Majesty, do you hereby accept the terms of marriage set forth before you on this day, as both the rules of matrimony between two beings and also as the bond that will henceforth be forged between Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth, resulting in the political alliance of these two entities? If you accept, say ‘I do.’”

“I do.” Levana’s voice was clear and sweet and sent a thousand piercing needles into Kai’s chest.

His head was throbbing. From exhaustion, from disbelief, from misery.

“Your Imperial Majesty, do you hereby accept the terms of marriage set forth before you on this day, as both the rules of matrimony between two beings and also as the bond that will henceforth be forged between the Eastern Commonwealth and Luna, resulting in the political alliance of these two entities? If you accept, say ‘I do.’”

He blinked at Prime Minister Kamin.

His heart was pulsating against his ribs, and her words were hollow echoes in his hollow head, and he had only to open his mouth and say I do and the wedding would be over and Levana would be his wife.

But his lips would not open.

I don’t.

The muscles flexed in the prime minister’s jaw. Her gaze hardened, prompting.

I can’t.

He felt the hush of a thousand guests bearing down on him. He imagined Torin and President Vargas and Queen Camilla and all the others, watching, waiting. He pictured all of Levana’s guards and thaumaturges and that smug Aimery Park and a thousand vain, ignorant aristocrats hanging on his silence.

He knew Levana could force him to say the words, but she didn’t. Though he imagined a blast of icy air rolling off her with each passing second, she waited with all the others.

Kai pried open his lips, but his tongue was heavy as iron.

The officiant inhaled a patient breath and cast a worried glance to the queen, before fixating on Kai again. Her expression grew nervous.

Kai looked down at the scissors she’d used to cut the ribbons.

He moved fast, before he could question himself. His unbound hand shot forward, snatching the scissors off the altar. Blood rushed in his ears as he spun toward Levana, arm raised, and plunged the scissors toward her heart.

Cinder cried out, her arms flying up in defense. The point of the scissors sliced through the fabric of her elbow-length gloves before coming to a swift halt, pressed into the silver bodice of her ball gown. Kai’s arm trembled with the effort to push through the control, but his hand was now carved from stone. Breath ragged, he looked up into Cinder’s face. She looked like she had at the ball, in her tattered dress and stained gloves, her damp hair tumbling around her face. The only difference was the blue ribbon tying them together and, now, a single slit cut into the silk of her gloves.

Slowly, like molasses, blood began to seep through that cut, staining the fabric.

Cinder—no, Levana—saw the blooming cut and snarled. Her hold on Kai snapped and he stumbled back. The scissors clattered to the floor, ringing with a tone of finality.