Page 31 of His Noble Ruin

I was alone inside my head, but without the peace of solitude.

There was no escaping this crippling pressure if I stayed in the streets. The noisy crowds would continue for hours, gossiping about the unprecedented news. I longed to find a quiet place, free from the masses.

Just before I was swept through the gates, I acted on impulse and cut through the human current, back inside the darkening square. I ran along the iron fence, toward one edge of the U-shaped Academy. The rain partially blocked my view, but at least it would help me remain unnoticed.

The need to be alone drove me. When I reached the building, I didn’t stop. I took hold of a column on the ground level and pulled myself up to the second-story balcony, gripping the seams in the stone with shaking fingers.

The long, covered walkway was deserted. Doors were set into the exterior wall, but I didn’t intend to go inside. I only wanted to go up.

Up above the rest of the world was where I’d find peace.

I climbed another pillar and pulled myself onto the wet roof. The firelights in the windows below were smudged and indistinct as if my eyes refused to focus. I collapsed onto the shingles, dropping my head into my hands. Breathing deeply, I tried to lighten the pressure threatening to force its way through my skin.

This can’t happen.

In the dim light of the full moon glowing behind the clouds on the eastern horizon, the expanse of the city appeared to stretch on endlessly, without the entrapment of the wall. The rain fell hard, drowning out all other sounds.

This changes everything.

I raised the hood on my coat, wishing it could shut out the world completely. The rain pelted my back until my skin grew numb in defense, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of thoughts smashing through my mind.

This is my fault.

Because of me and my father’s journal, Graham had found a reason to want the throne. He’d stood up to his mother and refused to give her what she wanted.

This was her retaliation.

Images of Graham flashed between my fears. Sad blue eyes. His defeated posture. We must have been vastly different in character or he would’ve strangled his mother by now. Maybe it would be a good thing if he were more like me.

What would my father say? How could I succeed if this power-hungry monster wrapped her tentacles around everything?

My plan required me to remove the future king, not some rejected nobleman. The attack would still happen if Maeve got her way, no matter where I took Graham. As long as the Brennins remained in power, the islanders would launch from Tramore the morning after the next new moon. In only sixteen days.

Thousands would die.

Graham would die.

I needed to send a message to my father. Cael would have to make himself useful.

As the rain quieted and faded away, my mind cleared with it and I began to panic for a new reason.

I shouldn’t have come up here.

I held onto the edge of the roof and lowered myself down to one of the pillars. My boots slipped on the wet stone, but my fingers gripped the grooves. I dropped onto the balcony and swung my leg over the railing.

“Halt!” shouted a voice from behind.

I froze with one leg on each side of the railing and peered out from under my hood, trying to keep my face hidden.

A tall figure in a green and black tailcoat stood on the balcony watching my every move. The familiar creases in his face stood out even in the shadows.

I would’ve dropped to the ground, but without the crowd to hide me, the guards would catch me before I took ten steps. If there had been a convincing enough lie, I would have told it, but the First Immortal wasn’t likely to believe a word I said. And one glimpse of my face would make things a whole lot harder.

My eyes darted to the door behind him and I slowly brought my leg back over the railing, still keeping my face down. I bowed as if I intended to apologize and surrender. Instead, I lunged and sprinted past him, yanking open the door. I slipped inside a dim room and locked the bolt.

The Immortal pounded at the door and shouted for the guards, but I was already running through a candlelit study. I dashed past a desk, between chairs and bookshelves, and through a door in the opposite corner. I found myself in a long hallway with doors lining both sides and sconces flickering against the dark walls.

I crept forward. Any one of the twenty-six Immortals could be waiting behind each door.

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