“I wanted to be alone with you,” she said, focusing on his face. “We never get to be alone anymore.”
“It’s not proper for seventeen-year-old princesses to be alone with young men who have questionable intentions.”
She laughed. “And what about young men who she’s been best friends with since before she could walk?”
He shook his head. “Those are the worst.”
She snorted—an actual snort of laughter that served to brighten Jacin’s face again.
But the humor was bittersweet. The truth was, Jacin touched her only when he was helping her through a hallucination. Otherwise, he hadn’t deliberately touched her in years. Not since she was fourteen and he was sixteen, and she’d tried to teach him the Eclipse Waltz with somewhat embarrassing results.
These days, she would have auctioned off the Milky Way to make his intentions a little less honorable.
Her smile started to fizzle. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
His gaze dropped away and he shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable against the dial. Locking his jaw so she wouldn’t see how much every tiny movement pained him. “How’s your head?” he asked.
“The visions come and go,” she said, “but they don’t seem to be getting worse.”
“Have you had one today?”
She picked at a small, natural flaw in the linen of her pants, thinking back. “No, not since the trials yesterday. I turned into a girl of icicles, and Aimery lost his head. Literally.”
“Wouldn’t mind if that last one came true.”
She shushed him.
“I mean it. I don’t like how he looks at you.”
Winter glanced over her shoulder, but the courtyards surrounding the dais were empty. Only the distant bustle of music and laughter reminded her they were in a metropolis at all.
“You’re back on Luna now,” she said. “You have to be careful what you say.”
“You’re giving me advice on how to be covert?”
“Jacin—”
“There are three cameras on this square. Two on the lampposts behind you, one embedded in the oak tree behind the sundial. None of them have audio. Unless she’s hiring lip-readers now?”
Winter glared. “How can you know for sure?”
“Surveillance was one of Sybil’s specialties.”
“Nevertheless, the queen could have killed you yesterday. You need to be careful.”
“I know, Princess. I have no interest in returning to that throne room as anything other than a loyal guard.”
A rumble overhead caught Winter’s attention. Through the dome, the lights of a dozen spaceships were fading as they streaked across the star-scattered sky. Heading toward Earth.
“Soldiers,” Jacin muttered. She couldn’t tell if he meant it as a statement or a question. “How’s the war effort?”
“No one tells me anything. But Her Majesty seems pleased with our victories … though still furious about the missing emperor, and the canceled wedding.”
“Not canceled. Just delayed.”
“Try telling her that.”
He grunted.
Winter leaned forward on her elbows, cupping her chin. “Did the cyborg really have a device like you said? One that can keep people from being manipulated?”
A light sparked in his eyes, as if she’d reminded him of something important, but when he tried to lean toward her, his binds held him back. He grimaced and cursed beneath his breath.
Winter scooted closer to him, making up the distance herself.
“That’s not all,” he said. “Supposedly, this device can keep Lunars from using their gift in the first place.”
“Yes, you mentioned that in the throne room.”
His gaze burrowed into her. “And it will protect their minds. She said it keeps them from…”
Going crazy.
He didn’t have to say it out loud, not when his face held so much hope, like he’d solved the world’s greatest problem. His meaning hung between them.
Such a device could heal her.
Winter’s fingers curled up and settled under her chin. “You said there weren’t any more of them.”
“No. But if we could find the patents for the invention … to even know it’s possible…”
“The queen will do anything to keep more from being made.”
His expression darkened. “I know, but I had to offer something. If only Sybil hadn’t arrested me in the first place, ungrateful witch.” Winter smiled, and when Jacin caught the look, his irritation melted away. “Doesn’t matter. Now that I know it’s possible, I’ll find a way to do it.”
“The visions are never so bad when you’re around. They’ll be better now that you’re back.”
His jaw tensed. “I’m sorry I left. I regretted it as soon as I realized what I’d done. It happened so fast, and then I couldn’t come back for you. I’d just … abandoned you up here. With her. With them.”
“You didn’t abandon me. You were taken hostage. You didn’t have a choice.”
He looked away.
She straightened. “You weren’t manipulated?”
“Not the whole time,” he whispered, like a confession. “I chose to side with them, when Sybil and I boarded their ship.” Guilt washed over his face, and it was such an odd expression on him Winter wasn’t sure she was interpreting it right. “Then I betrayed them.” He thumped his head against the sundial, harder than necessary. “I’m such an idiot. You should hate me.”