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“Yes.” I laughed. “Honestly, I’m more worried about you making it home on your own.”
“I’ll survive, I’m sure. Goodnight, Miss Yarrow.” Graham bowed as if I were a queen. The motion sent a stream of water down his hair.
“Goodnight.” I was soaked through, but somehow my voice still managed to feel as dry as sand. I watched him leave, unwilling to force my feet to step away. Moving forward seemed impossible, but I couldn’t stay in the storm.
A figure emerged from the rain after Graham disappeared. Cael sauntered over, his smug smile contradicting the anger in his eyes. “No kiss?”
I clenched my hands into fists and turned toward the gates. I could always count on Cael to ruin my good mood.
I entered the quarter and took a path around the back of the houses toward the Lenoxes’ kitchen door. An awning sheltered the back porch, keeping off most of the rain, and a tall picket fence bordered each side. Cael stopped and nodded, seemingly satisfied with escorting me back without incident. He grunted something much less nice than “good night” and disappeared into the rain.
Before going inside, I hesitated. Being cooped up in a small room with this much pent-up energy wouldn’t do me any favors. I took a knife from my bag and removed the leather sheath, my fingers itching to throw it.
My plan was for the good of everyone I loved, so why was I beginning to question it? Leaving power in the hands of the Brennins and war in the hands of the outlaws wasn’t an option. I gripped my knife tighter and nodded. This was what I wanted. More importantly, it was what my father wanted. I’d make him prouder than ever if I could manage to keep my emotions out of this.
Thunk. My blade landed in the fence bordering the porch. It let out some frustration, but not nearly enough.
I longed to talk to my father. I pictured him all alone, waiting for my return. He claimed to enjoy solitude, but he must’ve been secretly missing me as much as I missed him.
I crossed the porch and yanked my knife from the fence, remembering how I used to see him as intimidating and short-tempered when I was younger. But when I was twelve, and my mother was dying, I spent days crying at her bedside with my father, clinging to him with a trust I’d never lose. Our tears broke the boundary that used to stand between us, and from that time on, I understood him.
Small, insignificant details remained in my memory from that time, like the smell of lavender in the room and the pattern on my mother’s quilt. But the things I longed to grasp, like the sound of her laugh or the feeling of her kiss on my cheek, had become hazy and distant. I did remember her copper brown eyes, mostly because mine were the same color, but they lacked her warmth.
For the first time, I realized I had no idea what she’d think of the person I’d become. I had memories of her, but I didn’tknowher. What would she think of my mission? All the time I’d spent preparing? Would she have done the same in my place?
I studied my blade in the darkness, searching for a reflection that wouldn’t reveal itself. Whatever she might have chosen, it was too late to consider alternatives. I spun my knife at the fence one last time, lodging it in the crack I’d already made.
ChapterNine
Graham didn’t showup at the library the next morning.
My eyes constantly lingered on the front doors, but I was disappointed every time they opened. Maybe his parents had locked him in his room to punish him for yesterday’s rebellion. Or maybe I’d just scared him away.
At least my mind was back to its original resolve. I trusted my father and knew he’d never support a plan that wasn’t for the good of all Cambria.Just not for Graham’s good. The unwanted thought nagged in the weaker part of my mind. I pushed it away before the guilt set in again. No more doubts.
Mrs. Whitting seemed dead set on making my day as unbearable as possible. She followed me around, prattling on non-stop while I cleaned.
“Our children are exceptionally intelligent. My daughter even ranked in Class A. I wouldn’t be surprised if she becomes an Immortal someday. Just imagine how rich and respected she would be.”
I groaned and willed my ears to stop working.
“You missed a spot—yes, right there. One day, she could have a seat upon the balcony of the Academy beside the king and queen. My neighbor fears Imperator Brennin will be too ill to deliver his address tonight, but I assured her that he wouldn’t disappoint us. Oh, and the queen! Isn’t she the epitome of grace and intelligence? You could learn a lot from her, I must say. Did you see the gown she wore at the last address?”
I climbed higher up the ladder to get away from the sound, but Mrs. Whitting’s voice grew louder and shriller. The last thing I wanted was to hear about the queen’s wardrobe and all the ways she was better than me. Only the reminder of the king’s speech did me any good. I wondered if that was why Graham hadn’t shown up.
“I do hope the young heir marries soon,” she said.
I glanced back for the hundredth time when I heard the main doors shut, but it still wasn’t Graham.
“The sooner he has children, the better. Heaven knows the Strouds would be dreadful leaders. I hear they have no taste at all—not like our dear queen . . .”
I clenched my jaw and turned back to my dusty shelf, with no choice but to be assaulted by Mrs. Whitting’s gossip. I considered abandoning the library for good, but I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere else in case Graham still managed to come.
“Work quickly, Miss Yarrow! We’ll be closing early to make it to the Academy on time.”
That was the first good news I’d heard all day.
* * *
