Something Borrowed, and Something Blue

Cinder squeezed the suitcase shut with a sigh of finality. Emerald had been pestering her all week about what she was and wasn't going to pack, insisting on a variety of gowns and uncomfortable shoes and rolling her eyes at Cinder's constant reminders that they would be spending most of this trip on a farm. With cows and chickens and mud.

"Just because you're not an heiress anymore," Emerald had said, her hands fisted on her hips, "doesn't mean you get to go back to looking like you just rolled out of bed."

Together they had finally agreed on a few pairs of comfortable pants and lightweight blouses, plus a simple Autumn-red cocktail dress—"Just in case," Emerald had insisted.

Cinder stepped back and looked at the suitcase with some trepidation, trying to determine what she'd forgotten, but she knew the nerves writhing in her stomach had nothing to do with what she would wear or the possibility of leaving something behind—after all, they had shops in Vale.

No, she was nervous to be leaving.

For the first time since her official abdication, she was leaving Atlas.

She had been back to Mistral only once since she'd claimed her place upon Salem's throne. She had kept to her promise and been Atticus's date to the Vytal Festival's ball last year, and it had been…terrifying. But also extraordinary. The people of Anima still weren't sure what to do with the fact that one of their beloved leaders was not so secretly dating a Schnee, and a cyborg Schnee at that. There had been protests. There had been countless comedy skits taking jabs at a romance that most of the world deemed unconventional, even offensive. There had been jealous, hateful glares from the other guests, and live newsfeeds that criticized everything from Cinder's gown to her posture to her sarcastic (i.e., tasteless) sense of humor.

She would have been humiliated, or possibly furious, if it hadn't also been for the amazing things that had come from that trip.

Emerald had been one of the stars of the ball—the first thief to ever receive an official invitation.

Dozens of kids had asked Cinder to autograph their Scrolls, calling her a role model and a hero.

There had been her elation at seeing her friends again.

There had been all the people who weren't against her. In fact, her critics were in the minority, at least according to Emerald's frequent updates and reminders. There were plenty of people who defended her against the outcry, reminding the world that she was the girl who had saved them from Salem and done nothing but show loyalty to humanity and display bravery worth commending.

And, of course, there was Atticus. The way he had looked at her when she first stepped off the airship and onto the platform at Amity Festival Palace had been encapsulated in her memory. She had long felt a homesickness for Mistral. Despite how hard she'd fought to rescue the country she knew so little about, Atlas had never felt like home, not even after two years of living here. She'd thought she was homesick for Mistral, even though her life at Pleasure Park hadn't felt like much of a home, either.

It wasn't until that moment, seeing Atticus's smile and being wrapped up in his arms—both of them ignoring the fact that the world was watching—that she realized he was the home she'd been missing.

In the months since then, relations with Atlas had grown stronger, and it seemed the citizens of Anima were gradually coming to terms with their king's unusual romantic choice. Cinder's abdication hadn't hurt. From the moment she'd announced her plan to dissolve Salem's monarchy and reinstall the old democratic ruling system, the people of Remnant had rejoiced. To them, it was the ultimate political statement. The promise that there would never again be another Salem.

Cinder had never been so proud of an accomplishment, not even the revolution that had ended Salem's reign.

A knock thumped at her door and Emerald entered, bouncing like a kangaroo. "They're here! I just got a message from security—the Poseidon has arrived!"

"Good," said Cinder, with a firm nod at her suitcase. "I'm ready to go."

Emerald paused and took in the suitcase with a disbelieving frown. "Is that all you're bringing?"

"That's it. Why? How many suitcases are you bringing?"

"Three, and that was after I pared it down." She placed a hand on Cinder's arm. "Don't worry. If you run out of clothes, I'll lend you some of mine. Mercury?" Emerald glanced back. "Would you be a dear and take Ambassador Linh-Schnee's luggage down to the docks?"

Cinder followed her look. Mercury Black was hovering in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Mercury was once an assassin who had sided with Cinder during the revolution, and she'd come to consider him a friend since then. He was no longer an assassin—there wasn't anyone left worth killing—but he had been keen to take the position of protecting the new Atlas Council, and Cinder had been happy to recommend him.

"With pleasure," Mercury deadpanned. "In fact, I was hoping that if I came to see you off, I would be asked to do manual labor."

Emerald shrugged. "If you don't want to do any heavy lifting, then stop having such impressive muscles."

Cinder stifled a laugh as Mercury stepped forward to haul the suitcase off her bed. Though he was pretending to scowl, she could detect redness around his ears. "At least yours is about half the weight of Emerald's," he said, casting Cinder a grateful look.

"I had only your comfort in mind," said Cinder. "Thanks, Mercury."

He gave her a bow, a habit that had recently stuck to him. "My shift starts in an hour, so I won't be at the dock to say good-bye, but I wanted to wish you both safe travels."

"Try to keep the Atlas Council out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll do my best." He headed back for the door, and a smile so quick and secretive passed between him and Emerald that Cinder almost missed it. Emerald didn't take her gaze from him until he was gone.

"He could have come with us, you know," said Cinder, glancing around the room one last time.

Emerald shook her head. "He has a painfully strong work ethic. It's one of his more annoying characteristics."

Cinder chuckled. "Well, nobody's perfect."

"Speak for yourself." Emerald spun back to her and clapped her hands excitedly. "Are you ready? Can we go?"

Cinder sucked in another breath. "Yes, I think so." She frowned. "You don't think it's a mistake to leave, do you?"

"Mistake?"

"It's just…the new parliament only took office six weeks ago. What if something goes wrong? What if they need me?"

"Then they can send you a message." Emerald settled her hands on Cinder's shoulders. "You're an ambassador to Mistral now, Cinder. So it's time you got yourself out there and started doing some ambassadorizing."

Cinder cocked her head to one side. "That's not a word."

"It should be. Besides, the Atlas Council has had more assistance and transition into their gig than you had when you took power. They'll be fine." She locked her elbow with Cinder's and dragged her toward the door. "Now, come on. Vacuo awaits!"

"We're not going to Vacuo."

"It's close enough for me."

Cinder set aside her resistance as she and Emerald made their way through the witch-sanctuary-turned-government-headquarters. The blacken marble. The towering glass windows. The sea of stars in the black sky beyond.

She couldn't decide if she was sad or thrilled to be leaving. Emerald kept up enough enthusiastic chatter that her worries began to calm, and she was right. Though Cinder had been heavily involved in the transition to the new governmental system—advising the elected leaders as much as she could once they'd taken office—her role was already becoming moot. It had been decided early on that she would continue to be involved in Atlesian politics, but as an advisor and ambassador, like Weiss. She was in a unique position to continue smoothing the relations between Atlas and the rest of Remnant, after all, and…

Atticus.

She was desperate to see Atticus again. To kiss him. To be in his arms. To laugh at his ironic jokes and watch his eyes crinkle when he laughed at hers.

It was easy for Cinder to justify the desperation because—unromantic as it may have been—she knew that together, she and Atticus had the power to do more for the prejudices between their people than any amount of political discussions could hope to accomplish.

When she and Emerald entered the airship docks that were located beneath the sanctuary, the Poseidon was the first thing she saw. It was enormous compared to most of the small personal airships lined up in neat rows. Its metal plating was beat-up and dingy, its cargo-toting body almost cumbersome when compared to the sleek designs that surrounded it. But it was beautiful, and its lowered cargo ramp was more welcoming than any red carpet.

Neptune and Valerian were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, and when Valerian and Emerald spotted each other they shared a squeal. Neptune and Cinder shared a cringe, and then they were all smiling and embracing as if they hadn't seen each other in years—even though they still got together with some regularity. Neptune and Valerian's role in distributing the grimmification antidote to the people of Remnant brought them to Atlas every time there was a new breakout, and it was those intermittent moments of easy friendship that had helped to keep Cinder sane as she struggled to grasp the intricacies of Atlesian transportation systems, trade policies, and educational mandates.

With his arms draped over Cinder's and Emerald's shoulders, Neptune guided them up the ramp. "How does it feel to be a layperson again, Miss Linh?"

"Wonderful," she said. "I never want to hear the words Your Majesty ever again."

"Never? Never ever?" Neptune quirked an eyebrow at her. "What if there was an Imperial thrown in between them? Would that change your mind?"

Cinder clenched her jaw, glad that his teasing couldn't rile a blush from her. With a sharp elbow jab to his side, she extricated herself from beneath his arm. "How's the ship been holding up?"

"Nice dodge," said Neptune, dropping his other arm from Emerald and hooking a thumb over his belt. "But as your question is pertinent, I'll allow it. There's actually been a rattle in the compression system for the past month or so."

Cinder glanced up at the ceiling of the cargo bay, even though she couldn't hear anything with the systems powered down.

"I told him to take it to a mechanic when we were in Menagerie last week," said Valerian.

"And I told her that I already have a mechanic," said Neptune, pointing at Cinder.

Valerian shrugged apologetically.

"It's fine," said Cinder. "I kind of miss the work, actually. I'll check it out when we're in the air."

Neptune clapped his hands. "Great, then let's get this diplomatic envoy started. Ship, raise the ramp! You all just sit back and relax and we'll be in Patch in no time." He turned to head for the cockpit, adding over his shoulder, "I've been practicing takeoffs, by the way. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Valerian turned back to Emerald and Cinder with a grimace. "He hasn't really gotten any better," she whispered. "Let's go back to the crew quarters. There's more to hold on to back there."

Valerian took the lead, walking the narrow corridor of the Poseidon with the air of a hostess welcoming important guests into her home. Cinder grinned at her back, thinking of what a change it was from the first time Valerian had been aboard the Poseidon—all meek and awkward and barely able to say more than two words without hiding behind Neptune.

She took them to one of the small crew quarters—a room long left empty. In fact, as Valerian was opening the door, it occurred to Cinder that this had been her room for the brief time she'd sought sanctuary on the ship. She stepped inside with a sense of nostalgic awe…and promptly began to laugh.

The room was full of white crepe paper and tulle, unburned candles and glass lanterns, streamers and small silk bags overflowing with sugared almonds.

Emerald gasped and trailed a finger over an enormous tulle bow. "Is this all for the wedding?"

Valerian nodded, but her expression was worried as she looked around at the scattered decorations. "Sun told us to bring whatever we thought might be needed, so we stopped at a wedding supply store in the Republic and just about cleaned out their stock." Chewing on her lower lip, she glanced back at Emerald. "Once we got it all piled in here, though, I started to wonder if it was maybe all a bit on the gaudy side?"

Emerald shrugged. "We can work with gaudy."

The Poseidon began to rumble. Valerian and Emerald each took a spot on the lower bunk bed that took up one wall of the cabin, but Cinder made her way through the jumble of rose-petal-stuffed baskets and empty glass vases and stacked ivory linens until she came to the round window at the back of the room.

Valerian was right. Neptune's takeoffs were still horrendous. But Cinder didn't move away from that window until the white city of Atlas was nothing but a speck on the frozen surface of Solitas.

The landing was better, maybe because Cinder was so entertained by Emerald's bubbling monologue about Eastern wedding traditions that she hardly noticed the rocks and sways of the ship. While in the air, she had fixed the loose fitting that had caused the rattle and spent the rest of the long flight catching up with Neptune and Valerian, learning of all the sightseeing and adventures they'd had in between antidote runs. Neptune, it seemed, had made it a personal goal to ensure that Valerian got to see and experience everything she'd ever dreamed of seeing and experiencing, and it was a personal goal he was taking seriously. Valerian didn't seem to be complaining, though it was clear from the way they leaned into each other that it was his company, more than the museums and monuments, that really mattered to her.

"How often have you been to visit Sun and Ruby?" Emerald asked, kicking her feet against a storage crate in the cargo bay as Neptune powered down the ship's engines.

"A few times a year," said Valerian. "Ruby finally built us a landing pad beside the hangar so Neptune would stop flattening her crops." She glanced toward the cockpit. "I hope he didn't miss it."

They could hear Neptune's growl from the cockpit. "I didn't miss it!"

The ramp roared and creaked as it began to lower, and Cinder stood, surprised at how her heart started to thunder.

First there was the sky—a strip of impossible blue along the ramp's edge. Then her first full breath of air. Air that came from trees and plants, not a recycling tank, and it was coupled with the aroma of fresh-churned earth and sweet hay and not-so-sweet animals. There were so many noises, too, distantly familiar. Birds chirping. Chickens clucking. A breeze whistling through the opening the ramp had created. And also…voices. A cacophony of voices. Too many voices.

It wasn't until the ramp was halfway lowered that Cinder saw them. Not Sun and Ruby and their friends, but…journalists.

"It's her! Cinder!"

Cinder took a step back and felt her serenity slough away, leaving behind the same tension she'd lived with for two long years. That feeling of being in the spotlight, of having responsibilities, of needing to meet expectations …

"Why did you abdicate your position?" someone yelled. And another: "How does it feel to be in Patch?" And "Will you attend the Vytal Festival Ball again this year?" And "Is the upcoming wedding a political statement? Do you want to say anything about the union?"

A loud gunshot blared across the gravel driveway. The journalists screamed and dispersed, some cowering behind the Poseidon's landing gear, others rushing back to the safety of their own vehicles.

"I'll give you a statement," said Ruby, reloading the shotgun in her arms as she marched toward them. She sent a piercing glare at the journalists who dared to peek out at her. "And the statement is, Leave my guests alone, you pitiful, news-starved vultures."

With a frustrated huff, she looked up at Cinder, who had been joined by the others at the top of the ramp. Ruby looked much the same as Cinder remembered her, only more frenzied. Her eyes had an annoyed, bewildered look to them as she gestured haplessly at the farmland behind her.

"Welcome to Sanus. Let's get you inside before they send out the android journalists—they're not as easy to scare off."

Ruby released a groan as she shut the front door behind her guests. "They started showing up two weeks ago," she said. "They tried camping out in the sugar beet fields, like they owned the place! I've had to call the police four times for trespassing, but honestly, I think the police are about as dumbfounded by all this media attention as I am." She sighed and slumped against the door. "I wanted a quiet, intimate wedding, not a circus."

Neptune leaned against the staircase rail. "It's the first known Faunus-Human wedding in generations, the groom is a mutated gorilla man-monkey Faunus, and you invited the King of the Mistral and an ex–Atlesian Empress. What did you expect?"

Ruby glared at him. "I am marrying the man that I love, and I invited my friends to celebrate with us. I expected a little bit of privacy."

"I'm sorry," said Cinder. "We should have tried to be more discreet with our plans."

Ruby shook her head. "It's not your fault. Atticus's travel schedule is pretty much public knowledge, so there was no stopping this, I'm afraid." She snorted. "Just be glad you weren't here to see the hoard of screaming girls when he arrived."

Cinder stood straighter. "He's here already?"

Ruby nodded. "He arrived last night. And Weiss and Jaune flew over from Vacuo this morning. Everyone's here, so now I just need to survive the next three days of chaos until the wedding, and then it will all be over." She massaged her brow. "At least, that's assuming the bloodsucking heathens out there don't try to crash the ceremony. You know, the worst part of it is that they keep trying to make this out to be some big political statement. It's revolting." She sighed before adding, "He's not here, Cinder."

Cinder snapped her attention back to Ruby, realizing she'd been ignoring most of her diatribe while she peered through the doorways into the kitchen and sitting room and tried to listen for footsteps coming from the floor above. "What?"

Emerald tittered, but Ruby buried her annoyance with an understanding smirk. "Sun took them for a tour of the farm. They'll be back soon."

"Right. Sorry. I wasn't—"

Ruby waved her away. "It's fine. Besides, if anyone understands what it's like for their relationship to be treated like a political stunt, it's you."

Cinder lowered her eyes, not sure if that was meant to make her feel better.

"Hey, Cinder," Neptune said, pacing to the opening that separated the entryway from a humble sitting room. "Remember when we were here before? When we were scattered by Salem?"

"You mean when we discovered the secret lair under the hangar where I been kept comatose for eight years of my life before being given away to a place that didn't really want me? Yeah, Neptune, those were the good old days."

Neptune winked. "I was actually referring to when Yang lost her memory and nearly killed us. Hey, is she going to be at the wedding?"

"Yes, she is." said Ruby, "And she's bringing Blake. Please try not to flirt with her in front of your girlfriend. I have enough drama to deal with this week as it is."

Valerian shrugged. "It doesn't really faze me much anymore. Besides, he probably already told her he loved her, so what else can he say?"

Neptune cast his gaze to the ceiling in thought. "It's true. I might have. I honestly don't remember."

Valerian rolled her eyes, but if she was harboring any resentment, Cinder couldn't detect it. She opted not to tell them that Neptune had in fact claimed that I was flames of love when Yang nearly tried to punch them to death at the farmhouse's front door.

Hinges squeaked from the back of the house, followed by thumping footsteps and Weiss's dreamy voice flowing through the house's narrow halls.

"But I will have a chance to milk her before we go? I've never milked a cow before. I think I'd be good at it."

"Of course you would," said Jaune with a chuckle. "She'll just stare at you dumbfounded the whole time like all the other animals that fall under your spell."

"What spell?" said Weiss, knocking her shoulder into Jaune as they rounded the base of the stairway. "I'm not a hypnotist."

"Are you sure?"

They froze when they spotted everyone in the foyer.

"You made it!" cried Weiss. She flung herself at Cinder, giving her a brief squeeze before embracing Neptune, Valerian, and Emerald in turn.

Sun had come in with them, too, showing a pair of fangs as he grinned at the new arrivals. And beside him …

"I told them that was the dulcet roar of the Poseidon's engines," said Atticus, "but they all insisted it was just another media airship flying over." His hands were tucked into his pockets and he was dressed more casually than Cinder was used to seeing him—a cotton button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and dark denim jeans. She had never imagined that farm life might suit him, but he looked as comfortable here as he did anywhere.

Cinder crossed her arms over her chest. "You're an expert on the sound levels of airships now, are you?"

"Nah," said Atticus. "I've just been waiting to hear that sound all day."

She smiled at him, feeling the hummingbird flutter of her own pulse. He smiled back.

"Aces," said Neptune with a low groan. "They haven't even kissed yet and they're already making me nauseous."

His comment was followed by a pained grunt, but Cinder didn't know which of her friends had smacked him. Atticus rolled his eyes, then grabbed Cinder's hand and yanked her toward the back hallway. It was only a few steps. Not even a wall or door separated them from the others, but within moments it felt like they were alone.

Covertly, blissfully alone.

"How was the flight?" Atticus whispered, standing so close she imagined she could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat in the air between them.

"Oh, you know," Cinder murmured back. "Neptune was flying, so it was a constant stream of near-death experiences. How's king life?"

"Oh, you know. Press conferences. Cabinet meetings. Adoring fans everywhere I go."

"So also a constant stream of near-death experiences?"

"Pretty much." He'd inched closer to her as they talked. Cinder was nearly pressed against the wall, standing between a wall peg holding heavy overalls and a stack of muddy boots on the floor. "Is that an acceptable amount of small talk?"

"Acceptable to me," said Cinder, digging her hands into his hair and pulling him to her.

Breakfast served in 20 minutes.

Cinder grumbled under her breath at the message scrolling across the darkness of her left eyelid. She squeaked her eyes open and peered into the dim sunlight that filtered through the room's tiny window. The familiarity of the Poseidon surrounded her, a far cry from the luxury of the witch sanctuary, yet more comfortable to her even now. The gurgle of a water tank through the metal walls. The aromas of steel and recirculating air. The too-firm mattress on the bunk bed's lower cot.

However, the sensation of an arm thrown over her waist was something new.

She smiled and shut her eyes again, ushering Ruby's message away. She and Atticus had stayed up far too late—rays of sunlight were appearing on the horizon when they'd finally fallen asleep. They'd wandered the endless crops, their hands interlaced, content that all the journalists had finally gone to bed. They'd sat on the stoop of the farmhouse, staring up at the moon in a near-cloudless sky. They'd ended up in the crew quarters that Atticus had slept in during his stint aboard the ship, cuddled on the lower bed and talking, talking, talking, until the words had turned gummy in their mouths and their eyelids had been too heavy to keep open.

It was almost like they'd never been separated at all, and Cinder couldn't help feeling relieved to know that his presence was as reassuring to her now as it ever had been. She felt like she could tell him anything and, judging from the fears and pet peeves and frustrations he'd shared with her, she sensed he felt the same way.

With a heavy sigh, she eased onto her back. Atticus groaned in protest and shifted his weight to press his face into the pillow beside her head.

"Ruby's making breakfast," she told him. Her voice was scratchy from the hours of talking and laughing.

"Time is it?" Atticus mumbled into the pillow.

Cinder checked the clock in her head. "Almost nine."

Atticus groaned again. They couldn't have slept for more than four hours. She guessed that Sun and Ruby had been up since dawn, tending to the farm. They had probably just missed each other.

"Come on," she said, reaching for Atticus's arm. "It's a big day."

Atticus jerked in protest when her metal hand touched him, and Cinder recoiled.

"Stars, that hand gets cold," Atticus murmured. Rolling onto his back, he took the prosthetic hand in between both of his palms, warming it as he would warm icy fingers on a winter's day. Cinder sat up and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. He could have fallen asleep again, but for his palms rubbing over her metal hand. His shirt was rumpled, his hair tousled against the sheets.

"Atticus?"

He grunted in response.

"I love you."

A sleepy smile curved across his mouth. "I love you too."

"Good." Leaning over, she kissed him fast. "Because I'm taking the shower first."

The house was too small to accommodate them all, so while Weiss and Jaune had taken the one spare bedroom, the others stayed aboard the Poseidon, and they made their way across the drive together once they'd all showered and dressed. The journalists were out in force again, screaming their questions and snapping their pictures, but Sun and Jaune had erected a simple rope barrier the evening before and, for now at least, the journalists were content to stay behind it rather than risk Ruby's wrath.

Cinder tried to ignore them, but their presence made her a hundred times more aware of the warmth of Atticus's hand pressing against her lower back.

The house smelled of bacon and strong coffee when they entered. Jaune was sitting at the round table in the kitchen, peeling apart a croissant, while Ruby, Sun, and Weiss bustled around him in an assortment of patterned cooking aprons—even Sun had blue-checkered fabric tied around his waist.

"Grab a plate," Ruby ordered, pointing at a stack of plates on the counter with a wooden spoon. "We're going to eat in the sitting room. It's too crowded in here."

Cinder did as she was told, helping herself to a cinnamon pastry, some bacon, a casserole of potatoes, onions, and peppers, and a cluster of garnet-purple grapes. Then she retreated to the sitting room, where Emerald was waiting with one leg thrown over the arm of a rocking chair. She smiled when Cinder sat on the floor beside her.

The others filed in, taking over the sofa and nearly every available spot on the worn rug. Sun and Ruby came last.

"One of you had better be planning on making lunch," said Ruby, untying her apron as she claimed the last spot on the sofa. Sun handed her a plate of food, then sat between her feet, draping one arm over her knee as he gobbled down his own food.

Neptune lifted his fork. "I'll make a run for takeout?"

"Deal," said Ruby, clinking the side of her fork against his.

Emerald stopped rocking in her chair and leaned forward. "So tell us what's in store for your big day. Have you had fun planning it? What are you most excited about?"

Ruby leaned her head against the sofa. "I'm most excited for it to be over, and for all those stupid media people to leave so we can have our lives back."

Sun petted her knee and kept eating.

Valerian frowned. "Aren't you excited to be married?"

"Oh, sure," said Ruby. "That part will be nice. But I never wanted to have a big wedding, and I certainly didn't expect it to turn into this jamboree." She straightened again. "Not that I'm regretting inviting you guys," she added, looking pointedly at Atticus and Cinder, with an extra glance at Weiss. "Obviously, I want you here. It's just…" She heaved a big sigh.

"We understand," said Atticus, picking apart the sections of an orange. "Having lived with paparazzi my whole life, I would never wish it on anyone."

"You don't really think they'll interrupt the ceremony, do you?" asked Emerald.

Ruby shrugged. "I hope they have more integrity than that. Although it is tradition for the bride and groom to walk to the ceremony through the streets of town and cut through ribbons that the children are supposed to have prepared for us. But I can't even fathom walking down my own driveway with those goons out there, so I don't know if that's going to happen."

Cinder cleared her throat. "Is that tradition…important to you?"

Ruby scoffed. "The only tradition that I care about is saying I do."

There was an almost visible sigh of relief around the room and Cinder flinched, sure it would be obvious to Ruby, but she was buttering a slice of bread and didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Atticus caught Cinder's eyes and mimed wiping sweat from his brow. She buried a laugh.

"Tell us more," said Weiss. "I know very little about your customs, and it could come in useful for my role as cultural ambassador someday." She cupped her cheek with her hand, nearly obscuring her scars. "But mostly, I want to know what traditions Ruby Rose-Wukong deems important."

"Oh, I don't know," said Ruby. "We'll exchange rings and say some vows, but you do that in Atlas too, don't you?"

Weiss nodded. "Will you carry a bouquet?"

"Probably. I thought I'd pick whatever looked good in the garden that day."

"Do you have a color scheme?" asked Emerald.

Ruby hesitated. "Um…white?"

"Will there be cake?" asked Valerian.

Ruby grinned. "Of a sort. Yang and Blake are bringing croquembouche, which is a big stack of doughy pastry balls drizzled with caramel. It'll be delicious."

"I heard of a tradition," said Neptune, "where the guests are supposed to make a bunch of raucous noise outside of the bridal chambers on the wedding night, until you give us candy and send us away."

Ruby glared at him. "Yeah, please don't do that."

"How many people will be there?" asked Atticus.

Another groan from Ruby. "The whole blasted town, from what I can tell. I'm not sure how that happened—I certainly didn't invite everybody. Small and intimate, I kept saying. Only close friends, I told them. But in a small town, I guess everyone just assumes that they fit under that umbrella. If it was up to me, it would just be the people in this room." She paused. "Well, Yang and Blake too. Because, again, they're bringing the dessert."

Sun stood up and began gathering everyone's empty plates to be returned to the kitchen. After he had gone, Emerald leaned forward and clapped her hands. "I know! Why don't you show us your dress? I'm dying to see it."

Ruby cocked her head. "You can't wait two more days?"

"Absolutely not. Please?"

With a careless shrug, Ruby pulled herself to her feet. "Come on, it's upstairs." She left the room, with Emerald close on her heels. Cinder made to follow, but hesitated, glancing around at the guys.

"You can handle this?" she asked.

Neptune saluted her. "No problem. Just distract her for as long as you can."

Sun reappeared from his trip to the kitchen and settled an enormous hand on Cinder's shoulder, so heavy it made her jump in surprise.

"Don't let her come down here without the Something Old," he whispered.

"Something Old?"

He nodded. "She'll explain. She didn't mention it before, but I know it's one of the traditions that is important to her."

"Better hurry up," said Jaune, nudging Weiss, Cinder, and Valerian toward the staircase. "You're in our way, and evidently we have decorating to do."

He didn't try to hide his disgust at the idea, and Cinder snorted at the mental image of Jaune decorating anything.

She turned and hurried up to the second floor, but paused halfway up the staircase. Valerian crashed into her, nearly knocking Cinder to her knees, but she grabbed the rail and steadied herself.

"What is it?" asked Valerian.

"Nothing," said Cinder, trying to shake off the wave of memories that was accosting her. She had climbed these stairs once before, when she and Neptune when sent to the farm by Salem. When they went searching for more answers to Cinder's past. "It's just weird being here again," she said, as much to herself as to Valerian and Weiss. "Being here, and not feeling hunted or afraid." She glanced back and shrugged. "It's a big difference from the last time I was here."

With a smile she hoped looked cavalier, she vaulted up the rest of the steps.

The second floor held a small corridor and three doors—two of which were shut. The open door revealed a bedroom with blankets in disarray, sun-bleached curtains, and a large tuxedo hanging from a hook on one wall. Emerald was sitting on the mussed bed with her knees drawn up to her chest, watching as Ruby wrestled with a garment bag. No sooner had Cinder and the others filed in than Ruby spun toward them with a pronounced "Voilà!" and held up the dress for them to see.

A mutual gasp arose from Emerald, Valerian, and Weiss, followed by a round of giddy oohs. Cinder couldn't help chuckling at the drama of it all.

The dress was beautiful, though, and uniquely Ruby. A simple white cotton dress, with a sweetheart neckline accented with sheer fabric that continued to her neck and was finished with white piping. A full skirt that would hang just below Ruby's knees. A bright red sash around the waist was tied in a simple bow, matching the red vest and bow tie of the tuxedo.

"It's perfect!" said Emerald, scrambling off the bed to touch the dress. She ran her fingers adoringly over the sash and down the full gathering of the skirt. "Simple and lovely—just like you, Ruby." She sighed dreamily. "You have to try it on for us."

Ruby waved away the suggestion. "You'll see it on me in a couple of days."

"Oh, please," gushed Valerian, tucking her clasped hands under her chin. She was joined by pleading doe eyes from Emerald, but Ruby just shook her head and made to put the dress back into the garment bag.

"I don't want to risk spilling something on it," she said.

"It's good luck!" Weiss said suddenly, her eyes bright with mischief.

Ruby paused. "What's good luck?"

"In Vacuo," said Weiss, folding her hands as if she were reciting from a wedding etiquette guide, "it's considered good luck for the bride to don her dress for at least an hour for each of the three days leading up to the wedding. It symbolizes her commitment to the marriage. And as your groom is Vacian, I think we should follow some of his traditions, don't you?"

"An hour?" said Ruby. "That's really pushing it, don't you think?"

Weiss shrugged.

With a drawn-out sigh, Ruby said, "Fine, I'll go put it on. But I'm not going to stay in it for an hour. I still have chores to do." She slipped out of the bedroom carrying the dress, and a moment later they heard the click of the bathroom door in the hall.

"I've never heard of that tradition before," said Valerian.

"That's because I made it up," said Weiss.

Emerald beamed at her. "Well done. Now, quick." She hurried to the tuxedo and pulled it off the peg, passing it to Valerian, who passed it to Cinder. "Get that down to Sun before she comes back."

Cinder rushed it to the staircase and hissed. Within seconds, Atticus appeared in the foyer below with a garland of ribbon and roses draped across his shoulders. Cinder smirked. "Having fun down there?"

"Surprisingly, I sort of am. Turns out Neptune has a weird knack for this wedding thing. He says it's because Valerian has been poring over wedding feeds for the past few months, but…I think he's secretly enjoying it."

Neptune's voice came booming from the sitting room: "Don't mock a guy for having good taste!"

"Here, give this to Sun," said Cinder, lowering the tuxedo to Atticus. He flashed her a thumbs-up before retreating.

Hearing the click of a door, Cinder pivoted around to see Ruby emerging from the bathroom, wearing the white dress. "I need someone to zip it up," she said, pulling her hair over one shoulder and turning her back to Cinder.

"Er, we should let Weiss do it," said Cinder, coaxing her back into the bedroom. "You know my tendency to leave grease stains on every pretty thing I touch."

The other girls were anxiously anticipating Ruby's return, and her appearance brought on another chorus of swoons. Weiss pulled up the zipper and Ruby gave a half turn, letting the full skirt swish around her legs. It was the girliest thing Cinder had ever seen her do, and even Ruby was beaming when she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror in the corner.

"Oh, Ruby," Valerian sighed. "You're getting married. It's all like a dream."

"I guess it sort of is," Ruby agreed, her cheeks flushing pink.

Emerald petted the edge of the bed. "Sit down and let me do your hair."

"My hair? What are you going to do to my hair?"

"I'm not sure yet, which is why I need to practice for the big day."

With Ruby's back turned, Emerald winked at Cinder, who alone knew that Emerald had been researching popular wedding styles and practicing on the maids for weeks.

Ruby groaned. "How long will this take?"

"Why, you have somewhere else to be? Stop whining and sit down. Cinder, you have those hair accoutrements I told you to hold on to?"

"Oh. Right." Cinder had forgotten all about the brush, clips, bobby pins, and curling iron that Emerald had ordered her to stash in the hollow compartment of her cyborg leg before they'd left Atlas. She sat down and pulled them out.

Ruby's jaw dropped. "You're frighteningly prepared," she said, pushing a fingertip through the pile of bobby pins that Cinder set on the bed. "What if I told you I just wanted to wear my hair down, like normal?"

"Then I would use my powers of persuasion to change your mind." Emerald grabbed the sides of Ruby's head and forced her to face forward. "Now hold still."

The others sat down to watch Emerald work. She'd just finished teasing the hair at the crown of Ruby's head when Ruby asked, "Why is Sun's tuxedo missing?"

Cinder traded looks with the others. "It…um…we were…"

"Neptune came up and took it," interrupted Valerian. "When you were changing."

Ruby frowned. "What for?"

"Because…he wanted to…" Valerian swallowed. "Um…compare it to his own tuxedo. To make sure they were, uh…matching?" Her gaze darted to one side as she realized how implausible that sounded, even for Neptune.

"She means," interrupted Cinder, "that Neptune was concerned that he and Sun might have gotten the same tuxedo, which I guess is considered a big faux pas. You know how Neptune is about that sort of thing. Can't be seen in the same tux as the groom! How embarrassing, right?"

Ruby opened her mouth to speak again, her brow furrowed, when Emerald asked, "What shoes are you going to wear?"

Ruby moved to turn her head, but Emerald grabbed it and faced her forward again. She huffed. "I don't know. Weiss said she had a pair I could borrow."

Weiss snapped and hopped to her feet. "Right. They're still packed away. I'll go get them." She darted across the hall into the guest room, rustled around for a moment, then returned carrying a pair of red heels, almost the exact color of the dress's sash.

The appearance of the perfect shoes were met with another round of ahhs, and this time Cinder couldn't contain a chuckle and shake of her head. Weiss sat cross-legged in front of Ruby and pushed the shoes onto her feet. "How do they feel?"

"Not bad." Ruby turned her ankle back and forth. "If I can keep from tripping and breaking an ankle in them, this wedding will be a smashing success."

Emerald snorted. "They're barely a two-inch heel."

"Which is two inches taller than I'm used to."

A crash from downstairs made them all jump.

"What was—" Ruby started to push herself off the bed, but Emerald held firm to a lock of hair and tugged her back down.

"What part of 'hold still' don't you understand?" she scolded.

"I'll go see what it was," said Cinder, slipping into the hallway and darting down the stairs. Jaune was sitting at the bottom, hunched over something and working intently.

"That was Neptune," he said, without glancing up at her.

"What did he do? Knock down a wall?" Cinder stepped past Jaune, but hesitated when she saw the vase of white flowers on the floor at his feet. He was meticulously pulling the flowers out of the water, one by one, and wiring their stems together. His brow was knotted in concentration.

"Are you making a bouquet?" she asked incredulously.

"Shut up." He held the cluster in one hand and turned it a few different directions, before plucking out a white hydrangea and adding it to the mix.

Shaking her head, Cinder turned away and glanced into the sitting room. It was already transformed—flowers and garlands and tulle bows draped over every surface. It was beautiful, if also a bit chaotic.

Sun was nowhere to be seen—probably changing, she thought—but Neptune and Atticus were each standing on chairs and hanging a swath on the wall above the fireplace mantel as a part of their makeshift altar.

"What's going on?" Cinder asked. "What was that noise?"

"Iss all unner control," said Neptune through a mouthful of tacks.

She looked at Atticus, who shrugged sheepishly. "We had a disagreement with a bookshelf, but Neptune's right. We've got this."

Cinder opened her mouth to demand more information, but hesitated and glanced around the room again. Nothing seemed irreparably damaged.

"How much more time do you think we have?" Atticus asked.

"Emerald is doing her hair right now. Maybe…half an hour?"

He gave her a nod, and Cinder turned and rushed back up to the bedroom.

"Nothing to worry about," she said as she let herself back in. Emerald had almost finished with a complicated-looking braid that wrapped around Ruby's head like a halo, leaving the bottom half of her hair loose and curly around her shoulders.

"But what was it?" asked Ruby.

Cinder gaped at her, scrolling quickly through a list of potential logical responses. "Uh…they knocked over a chair. When they were…arm-wrestling." She flinched on the inside, surprised that her internal lie detector didn't go off on herself. She could see the suspicion deepening in Ruby's face, but she smiled and said, "That looks really great, Emerald."

"I still need to touch up her natural curls," said Emerald, turning on the curling iron. "And tuck some of these pearls into the braid."

Ruby laughed. "This is just for practice, Emerald. Don't waste your time."

Emerald made a clicking sound in her throat—akin to a subtle tsk. "How else are we going to get the full effect? Dress, shoes, hair, everything. It all has to work together."

Ruby sighed. "You're all acting weird. Is there something going on that I should know about?"

A chorus of highly incriminating "No"s and "Not at all"s flurried around her. Ruby scoffed.

"Why don't you tell us about…something old?" said Cinder, sitting beside Weiss.

Ruby frowned. "Something old?"

"Yeah. Um. Sun had said something about a tradition…"

"Oh!" Ruby fluffed her skirt, keeping out the wrinkles as much as she could. "There's an old, old wedding tradition, in which the bride should wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. So, for me, my dress is new." She gestured at the dress. "The shoes are borrowed. And my something old is right over there." She pointed.

Valerian turned and picked something small and shining off the top of the dresser. She held it toward Ruby, who nodded before showing it to the others.

It was a brooch. A flawlessly cut ruby was at its center, set into a silver rose, with two silver wings stretching out to either side.

"It was my mother's," said Ruby, holding out her palm. Valerian set the pin into it. "She gave it to me years ago, and…I thought it would be like having a part of her with me. I thought I'd pin it to the bouquet or something."

"Don't be silly." Weiss rose up onto her knees and scooted closer to Ruby. Taking the brooch from her hands, she leaned forward and pinned it through the fabric of the white bodice, right over Ruby's heart. "This is clearly where it belongs."

Ruby was smiling as she looked down at the brooch. "You don't think it clashes with the outfit?"

"Oh, it definitely clashes," Emerald said from behind her.

"But do you care?" added Weiss.

Ruby shook her head. "Not really."

"I figured as much."

"Done!" Emerald leaned back. "Get up and show everyone."

"When did you become so bossy?" Ruby said, chuckling, as she stood and straightened the dress. She gave a twirl, then stopped and let everyone admire Emerald's handiwork. Her hair fell in large spiraling ringlets—still curly and wild, but neater than she usually wore it, and topped off with the elegant, pearl-studded braid. She went to look at herself in the mirror.

After a long, silent moment, she swallowed and placed a finger against her mother's brooch. She sniffed, then tilted her head way back and inhaled deeply in an attempt to keep tears from falling. After a second, she laughed again and lowered her head.

"I wish she were here," she murmured, and no one had to ask who she meant. "She would have loved him so much." There was another sniff, and she turned around, swiping at her eyes. "She would have loved all of you, too. I think…I think she was a little concerned that I never made very many friends." She swept her arms in no particular direction. "And now look. I have so many friends, I need a airship to keep you all in."

Weiss stood and wrapped her arms around Ruby's waist. "She's in the stars," she whispered. "Jaune and I saw her when we were in the sky, and she was smiling down at you, and so very, very proud."

Ruby shook her head even as she sank into the embrace. "I thought you weren't crazy anymore."

Weiss grinned. "I never made any promises," she said, lifting her chin high. "And I believe it, besides. She is watching you, Ruby, and she is proud."

With a nod, Ruby rubbed at her eyes one more time. "This is good," she said. "It's better to get all of this out of the way so I'm not a mess during the actual wedding, right?"

Cinder looked down, but she could still sense the awkward glances shared between Valerian and Emerald before Valerian cleared her throat and asked, "What about the something blue? You didn't tell us what that was going to be."

"Oh, that." Ruby extricated herself from Weiss's arms. "I couldn't really think of anything, so I thought I'd skip that part. It's just a silly tradition, anyway."

Weiss jolted, her eyes gleaming. "It's not silly at all, and I know just the thing. Do you have any blue thread?"

Ruby peered at her uncertainly. "There's a sewing kit in the top drawer over there."

Weiss hurried to the dresser, found the kit, and within moments had threaded a needle with cobalt blue thread. "Sit down again."

"Now what are you doing?" Ruby asked with some trepidation as Weiss folded up the hem of her dress, revealing the silky lining underneath.

"Don't worry. I taught myself how to embroider years ago." She lowered her head to concentrate, her thick spiral curls curtaining her face.

Ruby sighed, but didn't argue. "How long is this going to take? Maybe someone should go tell Sun to water the flower beds before it gets much later?"

"I'll go," said Valerian. She was out of the room in a blink, shutting the door softly behind her.

Apparently tired of avoiding wrinkles in the dress, Ruby sighed and lay back on the bed, letting Weiss do whatever she was doing to the lining. Cinder tried to peer over Weiss's shoulder, but her hair blocked the needlework, so she gave up and joined Emerald on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

She pulled out her Scroll and jotted off a quick message.

ANYTHING WE'RE FORGETTING?

Emerald pulled out her Scroll and glanced at her.

VALERIAN IS SUPPOSED TO BE HANDLING THE MUSIC, came Emerald's reply. I JUST SENT HER A MESSAGE REMINDING HER.

Cinder nodded and folded her arms over her knees. "Are you nervous?" she asked.

Ruby turned her head. She was probably destroying that braid, but no one said anything. "No," she said. "At least, not about getting married. I'm a little nervous at the idea that this has become an international spectacle and there are people who don't know me or Sun who are going to take it on themselves to judge our wedding, but…no. I'm not nervous about getting married, or being married. It's Sun. It feels…right." Her eyes turned hazy as she stared at some insignificant spot on the wall over Cinder's head. "There was never a time when it didn't feel right."

Cinder swallowed and couldn't help thinking of Atticus. Had there ever been a time when it didn't feel right?

There had been difficult times, certainly.

She couldn't very well say that their relationship had ever been easy, but then, neither had Sun and Ruby's.

But had it always been right?

Her pulse hummed at the question.

It must have been, she thought, even way back when everything was so wrong. She couldn't have fought so hard for him otherwise.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed with her lost in thought when a subtle knock sounded at the door and Valerian reentered. "The flowers are taken care of," she said, and winked at Emerald. Luckily, Ruby had her eyes shut and didn't notice the blatant code word, if that's what that was supposed to be.

"I'm almost finished," said Weiss.

"I can't wait to see what you've done to my beautiful dress," said Ruby, although she didn't sound overly concerned.

"You will love it." Weiss tied a knot into the thread and bent over, using her teeth to cut off the long strings. "There."

Ruby sat up as the others crowded around.

This time, when Cinder saw what Weiss had done, even she couldn't prevent a joyful gasp from escaping her.

In the beautiful blue thread, into the silk lining of Ruby's wedding dress, Weiss had embroidered a single word in simple, elegant script: Alpha.

"You're right," said Ruby, rubbing her thumb over the word. "It's…perfect."

"It's something blue, at least," said Weiss.

Valerian cleared her throat. Cinder looked up to see that she had her Scroll with her, and she was entering some command. She had an excited, beatific smile on her face.

"What now?" said Ruby, her suspicious tone returning.

The only response, though, was the sound of string music echoing up from the floor below, loud enough to fill the whole house.

Ruby pulled herself off the bed and let her uncertain glare travel from one friend to the next. "What's going on?"

Valerian pulled open the door, letting the music spill into the room.

Ruby took a hesitant step toward the door, but Emerald stopped her and made a few quick adjustments to her hair before nudging her forward. They all filed behind the bride as she emerged on the landing and peered down the narrow staircase. Since Cinder had been out before, the banister had been wrapped with white crepe paper and finished with an enormous tulle bow. The doorway below, which separated the foyer from the sitting room, was hung with fine white streamers. The whole house smelled of roses.

Ruby turned back. "What have you done?"

They all stared with close-lipped, secretive smiles.

Shaking her head, Ruby made her way down the stairs in her red-heeled shoes. When she turned into the sitting room, she was greeted by Jaune, holding out an expertly crafted bouquet. She took it from him, her mouth hanging open, and stepped through the fluttering streamers.

Then she began to laugh.

Cinder hurried to join her, eager to see what the boys had done. But when she stepped into the sitting room, it was not the decorations that caught her attention first, but Sun, standing in front of the fireplace altar in his formal black-and-red tuxedo. Though it had been made especially for him, the jacket still stretched across his broad chest and shoulders, and the red bow tie was almost humorous against his fierce features and apish bone structure.

Almost.

Despite everything Salem had tried to do to him, Cinder had to admit that he was still handsome, with his tanned skin and vivid grey eyes and unkempt hair. Most of all, though, it was the look he was giving Ruby, which would have taken away the breath of any girl.

Atticus and Neptune were there, too, each of them standing with their hands in their pockets, rocking back on their heels with supremely smug looks on their faces, like they were daring anyone to suggest it wasn't the most beautiful impromptu wedding ever created.

And they had done a marvelous job—much better than Cinder would have expected. The turmoil from before had somehow been tweaked and massaged into a picture-perfect scene, with flower garlands over the tables and ivory fabric draping the windows and pillar candles flickering around the room.

There was also Yang, Ruby's sister and the girl who had once nearly punched Cinder, back when they were scattered by Salem. Now, Yang was beaming and standing with Blake next to a small table that held a towering pyramid of golden pastries.

"What," Ruby breathed, clutching the bouquet, "is this?"

Sun smiled around his canine teeth. "You are the most beautiful sight I have ever laid eyes on."

Ruby cocked her head. "And you look like you're about to get married." There was blatant amusement in her tone.

Sun's eyes dipped once to the carpet, but he didn't stop smiling. He paced across the room and took Ruby's hands in his, so that their palms engulfed the wrapped flower stems.

"Ruby," he said, "I know how frustrated you've been with the…attention our wedding has brought, and how much you hate what it was turning into. And on our wedding day, all I want is for you to be happy and content. I don't want you thinking about journalists or cameras or newsfeeds. You didn't sign up for any of that, and it isn't fair to you. So…I thought…I wondered if you might marry me now, here, instead."

Ruby tore her gaze from him and let it wander to everyone else in the room. "You were all in on this."

"Sun had the idea a few weeks ago," said Atticus, "when he noticed you were getting…upset about the media. That's why he wanted us all to come early."

Ruby blinked tears from her eyes. "I…this is…it's perfect, but I think you might have forgotten one important element." She turned back to Sun. "There's no officiant here. Who's going to marry us?"

Sun's grin widened, and he glanced at Atticus.

Ruby followed the look. "Seriously?"

Atticus shrugged. "I've never done it before, but it is within my powers as the King of the Mistral to marry people. It will be perfectly legitimate and binding."

Sun took a step closer so that he towered over Ruby, creating what could have been a moment of intimacy if the room hadn't been so crowded. "So? Will you marry me?"

Ruby started to smile.

"Wait. Before you answer that," said Neptune, gesturing around the room, "you should know that the store where we got all this stuff doesn't take returns."

Casting her gaze skyward, Ruby said, "Well, in that case. Yes. Yes, of course I will." Her eyes glimmered as she draped her arms over Sun's shoulders. His hands spread out across the sash at her waist and he bent toward her—

But just before their lips touched, Neptune thrust his hand in between them, receiving dual kisses on his fingers. Sun and Ruby jerked back.

"Slow those rockets," said Neptune. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure we're not to the kissing part yet." He pried Ruby away from Sun, who growled low in his throat, and ordered, "Places, everyone!"

Cinder gladly claimed one of the wooden chairs that had been brought in from the kitchen, Blake took the seats beside her, whispering, "Aren't they the most beautiful couple? I introduced them, you know."

Cinder cast a frown at her. "You did?"

Blake shrugged and flashed an impish grin. "Well…sort of."

Atticus and Sun stood at the makeshift altar, while Weiss and Jaune took the remaining dining chairs. Neptune led Ruby back out to the foyer, and Cinder could hear him whispering hasty directions before coming to sit beside Valerian and Emerald on the sheet-draped sofa.

After Valerian punched a new command into her Scroll, the music changed to a classic wedding march. The change was affecting, sweeping away the frivolity of the decorations and Neptune's humor and filling the house with a sense of intent.

Ruby waited a moment, allowing the music to permeate the ceremony, before she glided through the wall of streamers. Her eyes were locked onto Sun's as she took one meaningful, patient step after another.

Yang sniffled and raised a handkerchief to her nose. "I love weddings."

Grinning, Cinder glanced toward Atticus and found him smiling back at her. If he was nervous to be playing such an important role on such a momentous occasion, he didn't show it.

Ruby stopped beside Sun, and Valerian lowered the music's volume, letting it fade pleasantly into silence. There was another sniffle in the room—Weiss, Cinder guessed.

"Dear friends," Atticus began, "we are gathered today to witness and to celebrate the union between Sun Wukong and Ruby Rose. Though we are a small gathering, it's clear that the love we feel for this bride and groom would span to Atlas and back." His copper-brown eyes passed fondly from Ruby to Sun. "Of course, we know that the world sees this wedding as a historical event. The first officially recorded marriage union between a Faunus and a Human since the second era. And maybe that is important. Maybe the love and compassion these two people have for each other is symbolic of hope for the future. Maybe this wedding signifies the possibility that someday our two races will not only learn to tolerate each other, but to love and appreciate each other as well. Or, maybe…" Atticus's eyes glinted. "…this relationship has absolutely nothing to do with politics, and everything to do with our shared human need to find someone who will care for us as much as we care for them. To find a partner who complements us and teaches us. Who makes us stronger. Who makes us want to be our best possible self."

Cinder heard yet another sniffle—this time from Emerald.

Atticus continued, "I think that when every person in this room looks at Sun and Ruby, they don't see a Faunus and a Human. We don't see an agenda, or two people trying to make a statement. I think we see two people who were lucky enough to find each other on this vast planet, and they weren't going to let any boundaries of distance or race or even physiological tampering get in the way of a happy life together."

Cinder listed her head thoughtfully. Distance. Race. Physiological tampering. It was almost as if Atticus wasn't just talking about Sun and Ruby. He could just as easily have been talking about their own relationship. She squinted at Atticus, newly suspicious, but his eyes never darted toward her, and she began to feel self-absorbed for thinking it. This was Sun and Ruby's moment, and Atticus respected that.

But when he was writing this speech, the similarities must have occurred to him. Right?

She held her breath, listening a little more closely to Atticus's words, wondering if he'd intended a meaning that went beyond this one ceremony.

Atticus reached into his pocket and pulled out two golden rings. He handed one to Sun, then took the bouquet from Ruby and gave her the other.

"In preparing for this ceremony," Atticus said, setting the bouquet on the mantel behind him, "I did some research and learned that the word Alpha has held many meanings across history."

A chuckle moved through the room. They all knew of the "Alpha Mate" relationship that Sun and Ruby had, and over the years it had developed into an inside joke among them. But Cinder also knew it was a joke founded on a deeper truth. Sun and Ruby took the designation seriously, in a way that even Cinder could admit was painfully romantic.

"Alpha can refer to the first of something," said Atticus, "or the beginning of everything. It can be attributed to a particularly powerful or charismatic person, or it can signify the dominant leader in a pack of animals, most notably, of course, wolves." His serious expression tweaked briefly into a teasing smile. "It has meanings in chemistry, physics, and even astronomy, where it describes the brightest star in a constellation. But it seems clear that Sun and Ruby have created their own definition for the word, and their relationship has given this word a new meaning for all of us. Being an Alpha means that you'll stand against all adversity to be with your mate. It means accepting each other, both for your strengths and your flaws. It means forging your own path to happiness and to love." He nodded at Sun. "Now I'll have you place the ring on your bride's finger and repeat after me."

Sun took Ruby's hands into his, as tenderly as he would pick up an injured butterfly, and slid the band onto her finger. His voice was rough and wavering as he recited—"I, Sun Wukong, do hereby claim you, Ruby Rose, as my wife and my Alpha. Forevermore, you will be my mate, my star, my beginning of everything." He smiled down at her, his eyes swimming with emotion. Ruby returned the look, and though Sun's expression teetered between proud and bashful, Ruby's face contained nothing but joy. "You are the one. You have always been, and you will always be, the only one."

Ruby took the second ring—a significantly larger version of the same unadorned band—and pressed it onto Sun's finger. "I, Ruby Rose, do hereby claim you, Sun Wukong, as my husband and my Alpha. Forevermore, you will be my mate, my star, my beginning of everything. You are the one. You have always been, and you will always be, the only one."

Sun folded his hands around hers. From where she sat, Cinder could see that he was shaking.

Atticus grinned. "By the power given to me by the people of Anima, under the laws of the Remnant Union and as witnessed by those gathered here today, I do now pronounce you husband and wife." He spread his hands in invitation. "You may kiss your—"

Sun wrapped his arms around Ruby's waist, lifting her off the floor, and kissed her before Atticus could finish. Or maybe she kissed him. It seemed mutual, as her hands wound through his disheveled hair.

The room exploded with cheers, everyone launching to their feet to congratulate the still-kissing couple. Ruby had lost one of her red shoes.

"I'll get the champagne," said Neptune, heading toward the kitchen. "Those two are going to be thirsty when they finally come up for air."

Cinder collapsed onto the stairs and leaned against the rail, where the crepe paper wrappings had come unstuck and were slowly unwinding themselves as the night went on. She was exhausted. Her right foot was throbbing and her left leg felt like it was filled with lead. She'd never danced so much in her life, not even at last year's ball, when she'd been too self-conscious about everyone staring at her to spend more than a handful of songs on the ballroom floor. But this felt different. Valerian had somehow compiled the perfect list of songs, and every time it seemed the party was dwindling, a song with just the right beat would come on and everyone would be up again, laughing and spinning. Atticus and Weiss had even taught the others a few basic waltz steps, and Emerald had made it a point to steal multiple dances with every person in the room. She, of course, was tireless.

There had been feasting, too, though mostly on the croquembouche, which had so far contributed to both the lunch and dinner of the day, and was probably going to become a late-night snack as well.

And there was laughter. And teasing. And nostalgic remembrances of their many adventures, and the times when most of them had been crew members aboard the Poseidon.

Atticus appeared before Cinder, running a tired hand through his hair, and slumped down on the stair beside her. "Well? How do you think we did?"

She settled her head on his shoulder and watched Emerald and Jaune waltz across the foyer, not really sure who was leading who. "I'd call it a brilliant success. All those journalists are going to be so disappointed when they find out they missed it."

"They'll have plenty to report on still. They don't need to intrude on Sun and Ruby's privacy anymore in order to do it."

"Are you going to hold a press conference in place of the wedding in a couple days? Tell the world about your first foray into matrimonial officiating? Wax poetic about the historical importance of such a union?"

He turned his head and smirked down at her. "Nope. But I might tell them what an honor it was for me to be able to marry two of my closest friends, who happen to love each other very much."

Her grin widened. "That won't satisfy them at all."

"I know. That's half the appeal."

Cinder took Atticus's hand and squeezed it. "There's something I want to show you. Do you think anyone would notice if we slipped away for a bit?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Given that we make up a full quarter of the guest list, I would be a little insulted if they didn't notice."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Then by all means, lead the way."

She stood and headed for the back door.

Darkness had fallen and the fields were lit only by the moon and the stars, casting the world in a wash of silver-blue. Cinder paused on the short porch, listening for the sounds of voices or footsteps or android treads, but it seemed the paparazzi had gotten bored with waiting for their prey to emerge from the farmhouse and retreated for the night.

Still holding Atticus's hand, she led him across the drive to the enormous hangar that housed Ruby's airship. Not wanting to turn on the hangar's light and alert someone to their presence, she shut the door and turned on the flashlight in her cyborg finger, letting the thin beam of light guide them around the airship and a cluster of toolboxes stacked up on the floor. She found the cabinet at the back of the hangar, just where it had been the last time she'd been there. Releasing Atticus's hand, she crouched down and felt around the floor of the cabinet until her fingers brushed against the latch she knew was there. She yanked it upward, revealing an eerie blackness and a series of plastic rungs set into the concrete wall, disappearing into the shadows below.

Atticus grunted in surprise. "You have my attention."

Cinder shone the flashlight down into the hatch to see where she was heading before she grabbed the first rung and lowered herself down. Atticus followed fast behind.

As soon as she heard his feet hit the ground, Cinder said, "Lights on."

A generator started to hum, and overhead lights flickered to life, brightening the space that was as large as the hangar above, but intended for a much different purpose. Cinder swallowed as she looked around. Nothing had changed since she and Neptune had discovered this place two years before. She wondered if Ruby had ever come down here to see the room her mother had kept a secret for so long—if she was curious, or willing to let it lie abandoned and forgotten for eternity.

There was the suspended animation tank where she had rested for most of her childhood.

There were the machines that had kept her alive and stimulated her brain and monitored her vital signs, all while she went on sleeping her dreamless sleep.

The silence that engulfed her and Atticus was as thick as the metallic-scented air of the secret room until Atticus brushed past her and went to stand beside the empty tank. A blue gel in its base still showed the faint imprint of a child's body.

"This is where she kept you," he murmured.

Cinder licked her lips and glanced around. Part of her thought of the room as a sanctuary—the one place in the world that could have kept her safe for so long. But another part of her couldn't help picturing it as a dungeon. "I was down here for eight years."

"Do you remember any of it?"

"No, I was unconscious until the very end. I do have one faint memory of climbing up that ladder and leaving the hangar. It's pretty hazy, though. If Neptune and I had never come here, I would have always thought it was a dream."

Leaving the tank, Atticus paced around the room, scanning the screens on the wall but didn't try to turn them on. After making a complete circle around the room, he paused and said, "Imagine how proud she would be."

"Summer Rose?"

He nodded. "She'd be so proud of Ruby, and of you. I can only begin to imagine the sacrifices she made to keep you safe, and all so one day you could face Salem and end her tyranny. You not only succeeded, but you've changed the course of history in ways that I'm sure she never could have predicted, and now…" His mouth quirked to one side as he glanced up in the direction of the farmhouse. "…Now her daughter is married to a Faunus. Openly. Happily. When just a few years ago, that wouldn't have been possible." His smile turned to melancholy. "I'm sorry I never got to meet her."

"Me too," said Cinder.

Lacing their fingers together, Atticus lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. "Was there any reason in particular you wanted to show me this?"

"I'm not sure. I figured you know all about my biological family and the world I was born into, and you've of course had the great pleasure of meeting my adoptive family on numerous occasions, so this was the last piece of the puzzle." She waved her free arm around the room. "The missing link to my past."

Atticus looked around one more time. "It's pretty creepy, actually."

"I know."

After another moment of reverent silence, Atticus said, "I'm surprised Neptune hasn't asked if he can start leading guided tours down here. I bet you could charge a hefty admission fee."

Cinder snorted. "Please don't plant that idea in his head."

"Ruby would never allow it anyway. Come on." He started heading back toward the ladder. "It's my turn to show you something."

They could still hear music spilling out from the farmhouse, but Atticus passed by it and headed into the fields that surrounded them. They hadn't gone far before the mud from recent sprinklers sucked at their feet. They walked for a long time, stepping over the rows of sugar beets, letting the moonlight guide them. After a while the sound of music disappeared in the distance, and another sound took its place—the melodic burble of a small creek.

At the end of the field, the land dipped down into a narrow ravine that the creek had carved over time. There were a few trees scattered along its banks, the roots sometimes emerging from the tiny cliff side before plunging down into the soft silt. Atticus found a grassy spot where they could watch the subtle glint of moonlight off the foaming water, and they sat beside each other. His arm wound its way around Cinder's waist.

"All right, I give up," said Cinder. "How did you know this was here?"

"Sun mentioned it last night when he was showing us around the farm. The creek marks the end of their property. That side belongs to the neighbor."

"It's very nice," she said somewhat haltingly, "but…why are you showing me a creek?"

"We're not looking at the creek." He pointed up. "We're looking at the stars."

She laughed and tilted her head back.

"Also very nice," she said. "But believe it or not, I've actually seen these stars before."

"Well, aren't you hard to impress," he said wryly.

"Sorry. What I meant was, this is breathtaking."

"Thank you. I thought it would be nice to look up at the night sky with you beside me for once, rather than just wishing you were beside me."

Cinder felt a pang of guilt for being so flippant before, when the truth was …

"I do that too," she said. "I'll look out at the stars and pretend you're with me, or wonder if you're looking at the same constellations that I am, maybe at that same moment." She nestled her body against his and smiled when Atticus kissed the top of her head. It felt so natural. Like they'd done this every night for years, rather than having been separated for most of that time.

"I have a confession," Atticus mumbled into her hair.

She tilted her head to peer at him. "Careful. There could be paparazzi hiding behind these trees. Any confessions might end up on tomorrow's newsfeeds."

He pretended to consider this for a moment, eyes twinkling, before he said, "I could live with that."

She sat up straighter so she could turn to look at him. "Out with it, then."

"When I was figuring out what to say for the wedding, I kept thinking about you and me."

Cinder jolted. "I knew it!"

Atticus's eyebrows shot upward.

"I mean, there seemed to be a lot of overlap," she added. "Especially that part about defying race and distance and physiological tampering."

He cocked his head, grinning as he inspected her. "Actually, I was referring more to the part about finding someone who complements you and makes you stronger. And being with someone not because you have some political agenda, but because…you love them."

She gazed at him, and he gazed back for a long, long moment, until finally Atticus shrugged and admitted, "And, fine, what you said too."

"Thank you."

"Cinder." Atticus pulled one leg onto the bank, turning his body so they were facing each other. He took her hands between his and her heart began to drum unexpectedly. Not because of his touch, and not even because of his low, serious tone, but because it occurred to Cinder all at once that Atticus was nervous.

Atticus was never nervous.

"I asked you once," he said, running his thumbs over her knuckles, "if you thought you would ever be willing to wear a crown again. Not as the leader of Atlas, but…as my queen. And you said that you would consider it, someday."

She swallowed a breath of cool night air. "And…this is that day?"

His lips twitched, but didn't quite become a smile. "I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to marry you, and, yes, I want you to be my queen."

Cinder gaped at him for a long moment before she whispered, "That's a lot of wanting."

"You have no idea."

She lowered her lashes. "I might have some idea."

Atticus released one of her hands and she looked up again to see him reaching into his pocket—the same that had held Sun's and Ruby's wedding rings before. His fist was closed when he pulled it out and Atticus held it toward her, released a slow breath, and opened his fingers to reveal a stunning ring with a large amber ringed in diamonds.

It didn't take long for her retina scanner to measure the ring, and within seconds it was filling her in on far more information than she needed—inane words like carats and clarity scrolled past her vision. But it was the ring's history that snagged her attention. It had been his mother's engagement ring once, and his grandmother's before that.

Atticus took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. Metal clinked against metal, and the priceless gem looked as ridiculous against her cyborg plating as the simple gold band had looked on Sun's enormous, deformed, slightly hairy hand.

Cinder pressed her lips together and swallowed, hard, before daring to meet Atticus's gaze again.

"Cinder," he said, "will you marry me?"

Absurd, she thought.

The king of the Mistral was proposing to her. It was uncanny. It was hysterical.

But it was Atticus, and somehow, that also made it exactly right.

"Yes," she whispered, "I will marry you."

Those simple words hung between them for a breath, and then she grinned and kissed him, amazed that her declaration didn't bring the surge of anxiety she would have expected years ago. He drew her into his arms, laughing between kisses, and she suddenly started to laugh too. She felt strangely delirious.

They had stood against all adversity to be together, and now they would forge their own path to love. She would be Atticus's wife. She would be the Mistral's queen. And she had every intention of being blissfully happy for ever, ever after.