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A change of clothing wouldn’t be enough. My hair was matted and tangled, and my smell was sure to alert any Law Enforcer within a twenty-foot radius that there was a fugitive on the loose. I rested a shoulder on the brick wall beside me and tried to step over my handcuffs, struggling to bend my long legs enough to get them through.
I had one foot over the cuffs and my dress lifted up to my thighs when Graham returned with a long puffy gown, a feathered hat, and a purse.
“This might be hard to believe,” I huffed, “but this is the most disgraceful moment of my life.”
He covered his mouth and looked down, but the laugh made it through. “No, I believe it. Here, let me help.”
“I got it.” My voice was strained as I leaned against the wall and forced my other leg through, finally bringing my hands in front of me.
“I’m sorry this won’t have a custom fit, but at least your handcuffs shouldn’t be a problem.” Graham glanced back at the street. Fortunately, this alleyway was in a quiet part of the city with few pedestrians. He smiled and held up a dark blue strapless dress.
“I’ll be happy if I can pull it on at all,” I said. “Although, I’ve never seen a noblewoman with bare shoulders.”
“That’s why I brought this.” He pulled out a long shawl from inside the ridiculous hat.
“Well done,” I said. “But that feathered disaster? Would anyone under the age of fifty wear that?”
“You know a lot about noble fashion for a girl who has no record of being a Cambrian.”
“I’m observant. Now, would you mind helping me into that dress before we have company and this gets a whole lot more awkward?”
Graham pulled open the top of the gown. I stepped into it, holding up my cuffed hands. He lifted it up, over my filthy dress, and buttoned the back. My cheeks burned while he tucked my long, grimy strands into the hat and wiped smudges off my face with the shawl.
He stepped back and frowned. “Your sleeves.”
The dirty brown sleeves of my original dress wouldn’t be hidden by the shawl.
“Rip them off.”
He furrowed his brows.
“Come on, just do it.” I raised my arms and waited.
He grabbed the fabric and tore it at the seams until the sleeves were in shreds on the ground.
“I believe this will do.” I spoke with the dramatic accent of an elderly noblewoman as he adjusted the shawl over my shoulders. “However, I fear that the horrid stench has not been eradicated.”
“I thought of that, too.” Graham laughed and took a rounded glass bottle out of his pocket.
“Do you think dipping a rotten fish in perfume would make it smell fresh?” I asked.
“Not fresh,” he said, “but perhaps a tiny bit better?”
Sometime between lifting my arms to be doused with perfume and watching Graham position the straps of the satin purse over my wrists to hide my handcuffs, my dignity sank to a new low.
ChapterTwenty
It might’ve beenthe fading light, but as we approached the Brennin gates, I was sure Graham’s face grew more and more pale. I looked longingly down the Avenue of the Immovables and fought the urge to run and save myself. The house and its grounds were draped in the wall’s shadow. The golden light of the sun only lit the eastern half of the city now.
We’d received plenty of curious looks on the avenue between the A and B quarters, mostly from nobles eager for gossip. It gave me satisfaction to think they’d never know who I was. Now that we were at the home of the king, I gripped the purse awkwardly in front of my wrists to keep it from slipping and revealing my handcuffs.
Two guards flanked the gates. One was young with close-cropped black hair. The other had two massive sideburns dominating his face. They bowed when we were close.
Graham wrung his hands and took a breath. “Good afternoon.” He looked up and realized the sun was out of sight. “Er, evening, that is. We’d like to, well, I’m just . . . . returning. Home. As usual.”
The guards glanced at each other, then at me. I wanted to bury my head.
“Is something distressing you, Sir Brennin?” asked the young guard.
