Page 2 of His Noble Ruin

I looked back, the corners of my mouth lifting.

“Keep your knives sharp from now on.”

My smile fell, but I shook off the disappointment. I didn’t need to hear him say it; they were only words. Besides, once I showed him what I was capable of, he’d be too proud to hold it back. The one thing I was sure of was my father’s love for me.

No, that was a lie. I was pretty sure of myself too.

He reached out and patted my arm. “If you fail—”

“I won’t.” I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, put my hand on the stone wall, and took a deep breath.

* * *

When the sunshone high behind the clouds, I focused on calming my rapid heart as I slipped through the gray streets of Cambria, the wall far behind me.

I was glad to see it go. I’d spent too much time in its shadow.

My feet slowed as I passed a pair of gates with a sign that readQuarter B. Two guards in suits and ties greeted me with glares that would’ve successfully kept anyone away, even without the spiked iron fence and padlock between them.

I instinctively ducked my head as if looking a little shorter might make me invisible. Luckily, my destination was humbler, a place with family willing to bend the rules, but it would take hours to walk that far. I tried to watch the cobblestones pass by, but I couldn’t resist the urge to look up at every new face.

Some looked back at me, but their composed expressions hardly offered a glimpse of the truth behind the top hats and stifling corsets. Whatever went on behind the carefully chosen words and calm propriety wasn’t mine to know.

I hoped I could remain as mysterious.

With my simple, gray dress and light brown hair, I imagined myself blending into the scene. Under the soaring columns and high roofs on each side of the street, I almost felt small. I kept my stride purposeful and my face serious enough to make even my father proud. Looking too happy around here might earn more disapproval than wearing a sign labeling myself an outlaw.

Well, notquite. The Cambrians reserved a special hatred for the banished rebels outside the wall.

When I turned another corner, the cobbled path widened into a market. Citizens crowded the scene, along with men and women in black suits, white shirts, and overly large badges even a blind man couldn’t miss. The Academy Law Enforcers lurked in the crowd like sharks waiting for a kill.

If I’d been wiser, and less hungry, I wouldn’t have stopped, but my stomach twisted and I couldn’t help myself. Giant pink and silver tuna, black mussels and clams, and multi-colored crabs filled the stalls. I took a breath and tried to imagine I was on a boat again. Nothing brought me to life like the ocean breeze, but the city wall kept it from me, and the piles of dead fish couldn’t compare.

But it was the words, not the smells, that made my nose wrinkle. Posters spewing propaganda lined the market.Support schooling from infancy. Protect Cambria from destructive grammar. Abolish our dependence on outlaws. Long live Imperator Brennin.

I shook my head. We were the last civilization on earth andthesewere their priorities.

I moved on, my mouth watering as I left behind the seafood and found myself in front of a cart of speckled green pears. I reached into my bag and slid my fingers between some clinking cowry shells, tempted to spend them all on a few pieces of fruit. But then I noticed the letters stamped belowPearson the wooden sign: A and B.

My stomach rumbled in protest. Only the elite were allowed to let that delicacy touch their perfect tongues.

“Rank card, please,” said a man behind the stall, raising an eyebrow at my bland clothing.

I checked to make sure no Enforcers stood within earshot before I allowed myself to speak. “I’m just looking.”

He frowned and crossed his arms as if I’d wasted his time. “Then go look at something you can afford.” He gestured to the seafood stalls.

I shot him a withering glare, but when he dropped his eyes, I pitied him. He was a simple merchant who probably wasn’t ranked highly enough to eat the fruit he sold.

“Excuse me, miss.” Another man gestured toward me, his coarse gray hair sprouting out from under his hat. He stood behind an apple cart the next stall over.

I cautiously obeyed, wondering what I’d done to catch his notice.

“You’re in the mood for some fruit, aren’t ya?”

I shook my head. “Not unless you can make me a noble.”

He gestured for me to come even closer, then lowered his voice. “Show me your card.”

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