Kai settled beside her. His expression turned curious, and she looked away, bracing herself. “I think—” She stopped. Gulped. Started again. “I’ve decided to dissolve the Lunar monarchy.”

Pressing her lips together, she waited. The silence became solid in the space between them. But Kai didn’t ask “Why?” or “How?” or “Are you insane?”

Instead, he said, “When?”

“I don’t know. When things have calmed down. When I think they can handle it.” She took in a deep breath. “It will happen again. Some king or queen is going to brainwash the people, use their power to enslave them … There has to be some division of power, some checks and balances … so I’ve decided to change Luna into a republic, elected officials and all.” She bit her lip. She still felt silly talking politics like she had a clue, and it wasn’t until Kai nodded, thoughtful, that she realized how important his approval had been to her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it will be difficult. People don’t like change, and even the citizens who were oppressed under Levana immediately accepted you as their new queen. Plus, they have that whole superstition thing about the royal bloodline. But … I think you’re right. I think it’s what Luna needs.”

She felt as though an entire moon had been lifted off her shoulders.

“What will you do then? After you abdicate?”

“I don’t know. I hear Thorne is looking for a full-time mechanic.” She shrugged, but Kai went on looking pensive. “What?”

“I think you should come back to the Commonwealth. You could stay in the palace, as a Lunar ambassador. It would be a show of good faith. Proof that Earth and Luna can work together, coincide together.”

Cinder chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I thought the people of the Commonwealth hated me,” she said. “For the kidnapping. And all that other stuff that happened.”

“Please. You’re the lost princess that saved them from the reign of Empress Levana. I heard there’s a toy company that wants to make action figures of you. And they want to put up a statue where your booth used to be at the market.”

She grimaced.

Chuckling, Kai took her hand. “Whenever you come back, you will be welcomed with open arms. And after everything that’s happened, you’re probably going to have about two hundred thousand guys wanting to take you to the Annual Peace Ball next year. I expect the offers to start rolling in any day now.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just wait, you’ll see.” He tilted his head, clumps of hair falling into his eyes. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to get my name on the list before anyone else steals you away. If we start now, and plan frequent visits between Earth and Luna, I might even have time to teach you to dance.”

Cinder bit her lip to disguise a budding smile.

“Please say yes,” said Kai.

Fiddling with the dead wires of her old foot, she asked, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“I don’t care if you wear military boots and cargo pants.”

“I just might.”

“Good.”

“Iko would kill me.” She pretended to be considering it as she cast her gaze toward the sky. “Can I bring my friends?”

“I will personally extend invitations to the entire Rampion crew. We’ll make a reunion out of it.”

“Even Iko?”

“I’ll find her a date.”

“Because there’s a rule against androids coming to the ball, you know.”

“I think I know someone who can change that rule.”

Grinning, she scooted a bit closer. The idea of going back to the ball and facing all those people who had stared at her with such horror and contempt filled her with copious amounts of everything from anxiety to dread to unspeakable joy.

“I would be honored,” she said.

His eyes warmed. “And those dance lessons?”

“Don’t press your luck.”

Kai tilted her chin toward him and kissed her. She didn’t know what number it was—she’d finally figured out how to turn off her brain’s auto-count function and she didn’t care how many times he kissed her. She did care that every kiss no longer felt like their last.

Except, when Kai pulled away, a hint of sadness had slipped into his expression. “Cinder, I believe you would make a great ruler. I believe this decision is proof of that.” He hesitated. “But I also know you never wanted to be queen. Not really.”

Cinder had never told him that, and she wondered if it had been obvious this whole time.

“But I have to ask if”—Kai hesitated—“if you think, someday, you might consider being an empress.”

Cinder forced herself to hold his gaze, and to swallow the lighthearted joke that rose to the tip of her tongue. He wasn’t teasing her about engagement rings and dance lessons. This was a real question, from a real emperor, who had the real future of his country to consider.

If she wanted to be a part of his future, she’d have to be a part of it all.

“I would consider it,” she said, then took in the first full breath she’d taken in days. “Someday.”

His grin returned, full force and full of relief.

He put an arm around her and Cinder couldn’t smother her own smile as she leaned against him, staring at Artemisia Lake and the white city and planet Earth surrounded by stars. She spun the cumbersome, hateful foot in her fingers. Ever since she could remember, it had been a burden. A constant reminder that she was worthless, she was unimportant, she was nothing but a cyborg.

She held the foot over the water and let go.

And they all lived happily to the end of their days.