Page 127 of My Noble Disgrace

I instinctively pulled forward, wishing I weren’t gagged so I could add my opinion. I didn’t want my father to speak, but I didn’t want Cael to keep talking about Graham either.

The guards kept me tight in their grasp, their fingers twisting and bruising the skin of my arms, forcing me back.

Anton Byrne spoke again. “Though I second the request to hear from Sir Stroud, I insist that Immortal Ruskin first disclose what he overheard. What information does Mara Stroud possess that might impel her to blackmail the heir?”

Cael’s mouth twisted in a subtle smirk.

Maeve’s eyes became glossy and distant as she shook her head furiously.

Graham sat beside her, his brows furrowed more deeply than I’d ever seen, memories of his brother’s tragedy swimming in his eyes.

“Sir Byrne,” said Cael, speaking slowly and deliberately, the smirk still on his face. “Your request for me to continue with my exposition—is it anofficialentreaty?”

Byrne’s dark eyes met Cael’s and he nodded solemnly. “It is, sir.”

Cael looked as if he was suppressing a smile.

The sight made me sick, though I didn’t know what their communication meant. I only knew that when Cael smiled like that, bad things followed.

“Very well,” said Cael. “It is with great regret that I must inform all of you what I overheard.”

Maeve covered her mouth with both hands.

Cael looked straight at Graham. “The unfortunate truth is that Ewan Brennin’s death was not an accident. Graham Brennin is in fact responsible for his elder brother’s death.”

Chapter

Thirty-Five

A collective intakeof breath filled the Assembly Hall, but this time, there was no clamor, just a solitary wrenching sob from Maeve Brennin.

Graham stared blankly forward, his breath visibly erratic. He’d spent a lifetime hiding and berating himself for this secret. Hearing it spoken aloud publicly had to be breaking him open.

“Do you deny it, Sir Brennin?” asked Cael.

Graham kept staring, but his head shook ever so slightly.

I wrenched an arm out of the guards’ grasp and pulled down the cloth covering my mouth. “He was a child and it was an accident! This is not fair?—”

Before I could finish my sentence, the gag was yanked back up, silencing me again. The guards pulled me back farther, slamming me into a chair and securing me with handcuffs.

Maeve looked at me, tears shining on her cheeks, but she didn’t speak.

Why was Cael willing to destroy Graham if it meant he’d lose his title? That was all he’d wanted, so why would he give it up now? The worst possible answer, and the reason goosebumps of dread covered my arms, was that it wasn’t an outburst of passion but another scheme—a dark, devious means to an end.

“In between these irreverent outbursts, I believe there was another request,” Cael said. “A petition to hear from Sir Stroud.” He looked at Maeve. “You are correct that one Stroud’s testimony isn’t enough to paint an accurate picture of the alleged treason.”

I couldn’t begin to understand Cael’s aim. He’d always protected my father, genuinely cared for him, and kept his confidence. Was he betraying him too? What defense could my father possibly have that didn’t implicate either him, me, or both of us?

The one thing I could rely on was that my father would fall back on his usual strategies and lie to protect himself at every turn.

Like Cael, he refused to be beaten.

I expected they’d adjourn the meeting while Cael went to get my father from his underground hiding place, but instead, the doors behind me opened.

My head turned.

There he was—Evander Stroud.

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