Finally, a pause, and her head was swimming, trying to hold on to his declaration—what do you mean you care about me more than you should?—without contradicting his concerns.

“We are already pawns in her game,” she said. “I have been a pawn in her game since the day she married my father, and you since the day you were conscripted into her guard.”

His lips tensed and he moved to pull his hands away, the extended contact overstepping a thousand of his professional boundaries, but Winter reached up and wrapped her hands around his. She held them tight, bundling both of their hands between them.

“I just thought…” She hesitated, her attention caught on how much bigger his hands were compared with the last time she’d held them. It was a startling realization. “I thought it might be nice to step off the game board every now and then.”

One of Jacin’s thumbs rubbed against her fingers—just once, like a tic that had to be stifled.

“That would be nice,” he said, “but it can’t be while I’m on duty, and it really can’t be behind closed doors.”

Winter glanced past him, at the door she’d shut when he’d come in to check for a fictional assassin. “You’re saying that I’m going to see you every day, but I have to go on pretending like I don’t see you at all?”

He pried his hands away. “Something like that. I’m sorry, Princess.” With a step back, he morphed seamlessly into the stoic guard. “I’ll be in the corridor if you need me. Really need me.”

After he’d gone, Winter stood gnawing at her lower lip, unable to ignore the momentary bits of elation that had slipped into the cracks of an otherwise disappointing meeting.

I care about you more than I should.

“Fine,” she murmured to herself. “I can work with that.”

She gathered up the little compact of paints, a few paintbrushes, and the fist-size model of Saturn waiting for its kaleidoscope of rings.

This time, Jacin started a little when she emerged in the corridor. The first time he’d been expecting her, but this must have been a surprise. She bit back a grin as she walked around to his other side and slid down the wall, planting herself on the floor next to him with crisscrossed legs. Humming to herself, she spread her painting supplies out before her.

“What are you doing?” Jacin muttered beneath his breath, though the hallway was empty.

Winter pretended to jump. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, peering up at him. “I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.”

He scowled.

Winking, she turned her attention back to her work, dipping a paintbrush into rich cerulean blue.

Jacin said nothing else. Neither did she. After the first ring was completed, she leaned her head against his thigh, making herself more comfortable as she picked out a sunburst orange. Overhead, Jacin sighed, and she felt the faintest brush of fingertips against her hair. A hint, a suggestion of togetherness, before he became a statue once more.

Nine

“Evaporated milk … kidney beans … tuna … more tuna … oh!” Cress nearly toppled headfirst into the crate as she reached for the bottom. She grabbed a jar and emerged victorious. “Pickled asparagus!”

Iko stopped digging through the crate beside her long enough to shoot her a glare. “You and your taste buds can stop bragging anytime now.”

“Oh, sorry.” Pressing her lips, Cress set the jar on the floor. “Good thing we opened this one. The galley was starting to look pretty scarce.”

“More weapons in here,” said Wolf, his shoulders knotted as he leaned over another one of the crates. “For a planet that’s seen a century of world peace, you manufacture a lot of guns.”

“There will always be criminals and violence,” said Kai. “We still need law enforcement.”

Wolf made a strangled sound, pulling everyone’s attention toward him as he lifted a handgun from the crate. “It’s just like the one Scarlet had.” He flipped the gun in his palms, running his thumbs along the barrel. “She shot me in the arm once.”

This confession was said with as much tenderness as if Scarlet had given him a bouquet of wildflowers rather than a bullet wound.

Cress and the others traded sorrowful looks.

Kai, who was standing nearest to Wolf, dropped a hand onto his shoulder. “If she’s in Artemisia,” he said, “I will find her. I promise.”

A slight dip of his head was the only indication Wolf had heard him. Turning, he handed the gun, handle first, to Cinder, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the cargo bay, organizing what weaponry they had found. It was an impressive haul. It was a shame that when it came to fighting Lunars, weapons in the hands of their allies could be as dangerous as weapons in the hands of their enemies.

“This one’s all medical supplies and common medicines,” said Iko. “If we could find one with replacement escort-droid vertebrae and synthetic-tissue paneling, we’d be getting somewhere.”

Cress smiled sympathetically. Iko was wearing the silk wrap top she’d worn to impersonate a member of the palace staff during the emperor’s kidnapping, and its high collar almost covered the damage that had been done to her bionic neck and clavicle during the fight on the rooftop—but not quite. She’d gotten creative with scraps of miscellaneous fabric to hide the rest of her injury, which was as much as they could do until Cinder had the parts to finish her repairs.

“Is this what I think it is?” Having returned his focus to his own crate, Kai held up a carved wooden doll adorned with bedraggled feathers and four too many eyes.

Cinder finished unloading the handgun and set it next to the others. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually seen one of those hideous things before.”

“Venezuelan dream dolls? We have some on display in the palace. They’re incredibly rare.” He examined its back. “What is it doing here?”

“I’m pretty sure Thorne stole it.”

Kai’s expression filled with clarity. “Ah. Of course.” He nestled the doll back into its packaging. “He’d better plan on giving all this stuff back.”

“Sure I’ll give it back, Your Majesticness. For a proper finder’s fee.”

Cress swiveled around to see Thorne leaning against the cargo bay wall.

She blinked. Something was different about him. The blindfold he’d been wearing since his eyesight had begun to return weeks ago was now around his neck, and he was exceptionally clean-cut, like he’d gotten a closer shave than usual, and he was …

Electricity jolted down her spine.

He was looking at her.

No. Not just looking. There was an intense inspection behind that gaze, along with a curious bewilderment. He was surprised. Almost … captivated.

Heat rushed up her neck. She gulped, sure that she was imagining things.

Worldly, confident Captain Thorne could never be captivated by plain, awkward her, and she’d been disappointed by such wishful thinking before.

One corner of Thorne’s mouth lifted. “The short hair,” he said, with half a nod. “It works.”

Cress reached up, grasping at the wispy ends that Iko had trimmed into something resembling a hairstyle.

“Oh!” said Iko, launching to her feet. “Captain! You can see!”