Page 87 of My Noble Disgrace

“The city believes Pearce died of natural causes,” said Cael in the tone of a reprimanding parent, one hand on the armchair he stood beside. “But Sir Brennin told me what he witnessed. Were you and yourfriendsresponsible for Pearce’s death?”

I sat down, discretely tucking the radio behind me. I’d have to make sure Cait stayed out of Cael’s reach now that he knew about her presence in the city—no thanks to Graham.

“Can I have a bite to eat before I’m interrogated?” I said. “I’m starving.” I reached for a croissant. I was glad Graham had thought to bring them. I wasn’t sure Cael would’ve even remembered that I had any needs of my own.

I took a bite of the buttery bread, taking my time to chew as I formulated a response.

The croissants reminded me of the days Graham had hidden me in his bedroom while feeding me decadent pastries and other goods from his kitchen. As restrictive as that had felt, I wished I could go back to those days, a time when Graham smiled warmly whenever he saw me. Today, he only looked at me with repulsion. He sat on the far end of the sofa from me, as if getting too close could be dangerous.

“Are you ever going to swallow that mouthful and answer the question?” asked Cael. “Are you responsible for Pearce’s death?”

I leveled my gaze at him and kept on chewing, trying to decipher how much he wanted me to say. We’d agreed that Graham shouldn’t know anything about the order to kill Pearce since he clearly wouldn’t approve of it. Now I’d be forced to straddle the line of keeping both Graham and Cael satisfied with my answers.

I swallowed my bread, preparing to speak a combination of truth and fiction. “By accident, yes, I am responsible,” I said. “But he was alive when I last saw him, and I expected him to stay that way. I was as surprised as you are to hear he was found dead.”

Cael groaned, burying his face in one hand.

Watching his act made my blood boil.

“Why did his grandson’s voice come through that . . . radio?” asked Graham. “What did you want with him?”

Cael dropped his hand, his face now genuinely surprised. Apparently, Graham hadn’t told him this detail. “Dominic Dunn?”

“Yes,” I said. “We were trying to prove to Pearce that he was alive and to convince him to use his resources to retrieve him.”

“What resources?” Cael said, his voice dripping with fury. Considering I’d ignored his direct orders to simply assassinate Pearce, I knew he was even angrier than he was letting on.

I hesitated, observing Cael closely since his reaction could tell me how much he knew. “Rumor has it that there’s a secret arsenal of weapons and technology that’s been hidden for years, and only Pearce knows—knew—how to access it.”

Cael showed no signs of surprise, but his face reddened.

“Doyouknow how to access it?” Graham asked Cael the question I’d been leading up to. “The Enforcers sent to arrest Mara brought enormous guns that couldn’t have come from anywhere else.”

Cael pursed his lips. “It was a mistake for those guns to be taken from the arsenal, as we learned after Fi—the Enforcers’—cruel and senseless murders.”

“Was it Pearce’s mistake?” I asked, hoping to find out for certain what Cael knew.

He paused, eyes shifting.

I waited, fully expecting him to keep himself blameless.

“It was mine,” Cael finally said, his voice solemn.

I covered my mouth. I never thought I’d witness Cael admit to an error.

Graham leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. He looked as surprised as I was to see Cael having a moment of vulnerability.

“But it was a mistake I won’t make again,” said Cael, his shoulders squaring. “The rest of the weapons from that arsenal will never see the light of day as long as I remain First Immortal. There are things inside that could destroy us all. ”

Graham nodded gravely. “I agree.”

Of course, Cael would find a way to turn his mistake into a point in his favor. He knew Graham would support his proposal for peace. But also, unfortunately for me and my hopes for freedom, he seemed to mean it.

“What do you want with the weapons?” Cael snapped at me.

He didn’t sound likely to help me get into the hoard if I made it about getting weapons, not after what happened toFiona Merrick. I had to appeal to his grief over her death and that of the Enforcers who’d died beside her. I had to make him think there was a way to redeem his mistake—the one display of remorse I’d ever seen from Cael.

“The weapons were only a means to an end,” I said. “Our goal was to bring back Dunn.”

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