Page 50 of My Noble Disgrace

He had plenty more to be concerned with than the safety of the girl who had betrayed him.

All of this passed through my head in the single second that we looked at each other, but then, just as quickly, he looked away, leaving me both thrilled and pining.

Beside him was Lachlan.

Cait squeezed my hand with a force that told me she saw him too. A grin lit up her entire face, making her look more like herself than before.

Even if I wasn’t recognizable, she certainly could be.

“Come on,” I tugged her.

She raised a hand and waved frantically, trying to get Lachlan’s attention.

I grabbed her arm, trying to keep my voice down as I reprimanded her. “No! We can’t!”

She dropped her hand, coming back to reality. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. But”—she motioned to the retreating carriage—“it’sthem!”

If I didn’t have to stay in character, I would’ve grabbed her hands and jumped with joy. Instead, I wiped the smile from my face. “Come,” I said in my deep voice, my heart still pounding from the glimpse of Graham and what his return meant—for me and for everyone. “We must continue.”

We continued down the street the carriage had come from, then turned west as soon as we could. We still had a long way to go, but now that Graham and Lachlan were back, we were enlivened with hope.

The streets weren’t as crowded now, so we were able to carry on a conversation with less fear of being heard.

“I can’t believe they’re here,” said Cat. “I hope Graham is protecting Lach.”

“I’m sure he is. Otherwise, he’d be in prison.”

“Yes,” said Cait with a frown, “but they’re heading toward the Academy. There’s a prison there, you know.”

“Graham has great influence,” I said. “You saw how excited everyone is to see him. He’ll get his power back in no time.”

She didn’t look convinced. “This isn’t the city you know anymore. Graham is no longer the shoo-in to the throne that he was before you blew up the line of inheritance—if he even wants it at all. If Graham doesn’t become king, Lachlan doesn’t have a shot at freedom. If the Academy wants him punished, he will be.”

I wanted to disagree to give her peace of mind, but she was right. I’d caused a huge disruption and I had to brace for the waves. The ripple effect of my actions was far greater than I could have foreseen.

Renewed anger for my father surged through me.

He must’ve known. He knew this kingdom well enough that he must have deliberately sheltered me from the reality that I wasn’t powerful enough to take it on. And yet, he allowed me, knowing perfectly well how catastrophically I could fail.

I wasn’t sure what I’d do when I saw him again.

Did I really want to save him? Or did I want to confront him?

I sighed, turning to Cait. “Then we better make sure Graham becomes king.”

A veilof clouds shrouded the sky as the sun dipped behind the wall and rain started to fall, releasing its scent with the burst of each drop on the sun-warmed cobblestones. Cait’s frilly parasol finally came in handy and she held it over both of our heads. I wouldn’t have been concerned about the water if I didn’t have a fake mustache stuck to my face. I needed to look sharp, fashionable, and above all, like a man.

Cait and I still headed in the direction of my house. My anxiety was rising as I mentally reviewed our half-baked plan. I assumed no visitors would be allowed in through the gates considering my father was under house arrest. I didn’t know how well-guarded it would be, but if we could just get over the fence, I could hide behind the tall hedges, the weeping foliage of the giant willow tree, and could maybe even get to a door or window.

When we turned the corner onto the Avenue of the Immovables, the iron fence around my house came into view, the spacious green grounds shadowed by the wall behind them.

The light was quickly fading, which would’ve been to our benefit, other than the fact that it meant curfew was approaching and the Enforcers would soon be doing a thorough sweep of this street. I could pretend to be one of them, but that wouldn’t work for Cait.

We sheltered ourselves under the eaves of a nearby building to assess the scene.

A couple of Enforcers stood at the chained and padlocked gates. One yawned lazily, and I saw no drawn weapons. They looked more bored than threatening.

I was surprised by the weak security. Apparently, they didn’t see my father as the most high-risk prisoner. I glanced at Cait under her parasol. I didn’t imagine she could manage much climbing and hiding in her puff of a dress, but we’d have to try.

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