And the queen’s system control center, including the broadcasting suite where the crown recorded their propaganda in comfort and security.
The elevator stopped at the third floor. Trembling, Cress hid the gun in the frilly folds of her skirt. The doors opened.
A crowd of strangers stood before her. Cress squeaked. Her feet itched to run, her brain screamed at her to hide—but there was no space to disappear into as the men and women eyed her with contempt and suspicion. Those closest to the elevator hesitated, like they were considering waiting for another. But then one person grumbled something and filed in, and the others followed.
Cress pressed her back against the far wall, but the crush of bodies didn’t come. Despite how crowded the elevator was, everyone was being careful not to get too close to her.
Her anxiety began to shrivel up. These people weren’t Lunar. These were the Earthen guests and, judging from their formal attire, they were heading down to the coronation.
The last thing she wanted was to be caught in a crowd of people heading to the coronation.
As the doors started to close, Cress cleared her throat. “Pardon me, but I’d like to get out here.”
She squeezed through, her crinkled skirt catching against the fine suits and gowns. Though there were many frowns cast in her direction, they gladly parted for her.
Because they thought she was Lunar. A real Lunar, with the ability to manipulate them, not just a shell.
“Thank you,” Cress muttered to the person who had stopped the doors from closing. She slipped into the elevator bank, pulse thumping.
Another beautiful hall. More striking views. A dozen pedestals showcasing statues and painted vases.
Cress found herself yearning for the rugged interior of the Rampion.
She tucked herself against a wall and waited until she was sure the elevator had gone before calling for a new one. She needed to go up one more floor. She had to find some stairs, or escape back into the servants’ halls. She felt too out in the open here. Too exposed.
A chime announced the arrival of a new elevator, and Cress spooked, darting out of sight. When the doors opened, they were filled with laughter and giggles, and Cress held her breath until the doors had closed again.
At the sound of voices coming from her left, Cress turned and headed right. She passed a series of black doors, their darkness sharply contrasted against the white walls. Each one was marked with a name and affiliation in gold script letters. REPRESENTATIVE MOLINA, ARGENTINA, AMERICAN REPUBLIC. PRESIDENT VARGAS, AMERICAN REPUBLIC. PRIME MINISTER BROMSTAD, EUROPEAN FEDERATION. REPRESENTATIVE ÖZBEK, SOUTH RUSSIA PROVINCE, EUROPEAN FEDERATION.
A door swung open and a woman with gray-blonde hair and a floor-length navy gown stepped out—Robyn Gliebe, Australia’s speaker of the house. When Cress had worked for Levana, she’d spent hours listening to Gliebe’s speeches regarding trade agreements and labor disputes. They had not been exciting hours.
Gliebe paused, startled to see Cress standing there. Cress hid the gun behind her back.
“Can I help you?” she said, asserting herself with narrowed, scolding eyes.
Of course, Cress would have to run into the only Earthen diplomat who wasn’t intimidated by a dodgy Lunar girl sneaking around her wing.
“No,” said Cress, ducking her head in apology. “You startled me, that’s all.” She moved past the woman, eyes lowered.
“Are you supposed to be up here?”
Hesitating, Cress glanced back. “I’m sorry?”
“Her Majesty guaranteed we would not be pestered during our stay. I think you should leave.”
“Oh. I’m … I have a message to deliver. I’ll just be a minute. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Cress scooted backward, but the woman persisted, pulling her penciled eyebrows into a tight frown. Stepping forward, she held out her hand. “Who is your message for? I will see that he or she receives it.”
Cress stared down at the open palm, soft and wrinkled. “It’s … confidential.”
The woman pursed her lips. “Well, I’m afraid if you don’t leave immediately, I will have to call a guard to confirm your story. We were promised our privacy and I don’t—”
“Cress?”
Her heart hiccuped.
Kai.
He stood there blinking at her as if he thought she might be a trick.
An ocean’s worth of relief crashed into Cress, nearly knocking her off her feet. She braced herself with one hand against the wall. “Kai!” Shaking herself, she amended, “I mean, Emperor—Your Majesty.” She dipped into a flustered curtsy.
Brow drawn, Kai looked at the speaker. “Gliebe-dàren, you haven’t gone down yet?”
“I was just on my way,” said the woman, and though Cress didn’t meet her gaze, she could sense her distrust. “But I saw this girl and … as you know, we were guaranteed privacy on this floor, and I don’t think she should—”
“It’s all right,” said Kai. “I know this girl. I’ll take care of it.”
Cress studied the floor, listening to the crinkle of the taffeta skirt.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, how can I be sure she isn’t manipulating you into siding with her?”
“With all due respect,” said Kai, sounding exhausted, “if she wanted to manipulate someone, why wouldn’t she have manipulated you into leaving her alone?”
Cress chewed on the inside of her cheek while a moment stretched out between them. Finally, the woman bowed. “Of course, you would know best. Congratulations on your forthcoming coronation.”