Page 11 of My Noble Disgrace

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, though I knew exactly what he meant.

His hands clenched at his sides, the knuckles whitening. “You may be angry that you were manipulated by your father, but you still manipulatedme. You had so many chances to come clean about who you were, but you didn’t. You could’ve admitted the truth to the Academy and absolved my mother, but you didn’t. You could’ve stayed on the throne and found a way to make life better for the people, but you didn’t.” He came even closer. “You could’ve told me the truth instead of avoiding it at all costs!”

My face burned, but I tried to hide how directly his words cut. “And now, I’m here to take you back to Cambria to fix all that.”

“You’re not understanding me,” his voice rose, drawing the looks of the nearby villagers. “You want me to go back and fix the problems you caused, but it’s not my responsibility! Can’t you see that?” His blue eyes flashed, brimming with anger.

“I was stupid and ignorant. I made mistakes, and I know that now!” I snapped, my emotions breaking free from my hold. “I can’t erase the harm I caused.” I gestured to the bruises on his body. “I can’t undo your pain, Graham. I can’t bring your father back to life.” I stopped, swallowing back my tears. “What else could I do but come back here and free you?”

He reached down and picked up his axe once more, his hands trembling on the handle. “You imagined I couldn’t possibly get myself out of trouble. I’m not incapable, despite what you think, and in case I didn’t make myself clear, I do not now, norever, need to be saved by you.”

I bit my lip. “I can see that now.”

“I was free,” he continued as if his words hadn’t already destroyed me, “until you showed up on these shores again.” Hehefted the axe and swung it into the wood, the sharp blade whistling as it landed with finality.

I wanted to argue and tell him he didn’t mean it, but instead, I turned and walked away before the ache in my heart could split me in two.

Hours later,I walked through the woods with a basket on my arm, foraging for mushrooms, berries, and anything edible I could get my hands on. The breeze brushed through the trees, making the leaves dance, but there was hardly a sound otherwise.

I’d grown tired of living on mostly fish. I didn’t want to admit it aloud and remind the islanders of my noble upbringing that allowed me a greater variety of food than they could dream of, so I’d wandered into the forest to take matters into my own hands.

Even more than food, I wanted solitude. I mulled over my thoughts, wondering if the only answer was to go back to Cambria and confess my crimes.

My thoughts kept returning to my father. With every shifting shadow across the forest floor, reminding me of the passing time, I grew more and more afraid for him and how he might react to my fake death. Would he really hurt himself and others, as Elin suggested?

I continued down the path, my footsteps noisy and intrusive in the stillness of the woods. I pushed past a thick bush and emerged into a place where two paths met. The sun’s rays filtered through the trees, highlighting the ground below. I stopped, recognizing it as the place I’d left Graham before making my fateful dash to the village where he’d ended up in his pit.

Being here brought back the feelings of that night. The pain. The desperation. The confidence that I was doing the right thing.

Graham’s anger had almost made me forget what I’d tried to do for him. I’d tried to save him, but he hadn’t allowed it. Like so much else, it seemed foolish in hindsight. He’d already landed on Tramore, far from home, his life in danger, his throne lost. I’d acted too late, and only once I was fairly certain I’d make it to the village before bleeding to death.

Maybe all I’d done was an act of self-preservation, even when I’d managed to convince myself I was doing it for everyone else. Maybe I’d been so willing to believe my father because I’d liked the idea of who I could become as queen.

Had I ever had good intentions? And did good intentions even matter?

I left the path and stumbled across a blackberry bush. Avoiding the thorns, I picked off a single berry and popped it into my mouth, eating greedily. I took a second, then a third, then more, until I’d devoured all the fruit around the perimeter. The bush still hung heavy with fruit, but most of the berries were nestled deep among the thorns.

I stepped away, not quite hungry enough to brave the thorns for another.

I only walked a few feet when I stopped and looked back with a reluctant sigh, realizing other people on this island could benefit from the blackberries. “Thorns be damned,” I mumbled to myself.

I reached into the depths of the bush, stinging red cuts erupting on my hands as I grabbed several blackberries and dropped them into my basket. I grimaced, but reached back for more, ignoring the pain.

As I filled my basket with scraped hands, I tried to find the resolve to return and fix the problems I’d caused. All I neededwas to say a few goodbyes. If I left, there was no place for anyone else in my plan—my surrender.

A sudden blast rang out from somewhere on the island—a gunshot.

I stood up straight, my ears alert.

Two more shots followed.

I dropped the basket and ran at full speed through the woods and toward the shore where the shots seemed to originate. If I hadn’t been so familiar with the sound of a pistol, I might’ve been able to believe it was something else. But my side stung with the memory of the bullet and the blast that had accompanied it.

When I reached the beach, there was a large boat anchored offshore and a rowboat in the shallows up ahead.

Without hesitation, I ran forward, my feet sinking into the sand and slowing me down. I turned the curve of the shoreline and found the source of the gunshots where the trees met the shore.

A Law Enforcer stood with his back to me and his arm raised. The pistol in his hand still smoked as it pointed straight up toward the sky.

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