The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 13

The following day, I sit with Will and Jules in Will's flat, my head aching from hours of regurgitating information. After nearly a month of learning customs, manners, names and history, there is nary a detail that I can't recall at the drop of a hat. As Will paces before us, I reach up a hand to touch the elaborate hairstyle I put together under Jules' supervision. Despite my complaints, I'm grateful to the Cains for all the work they've put into making sure I can pass myself off as a courtier. The skills I've learned in this shoddy flat may prove useless out on the streets, but Will has promised they'll be akin to an arsenal of weapons within the Court.

Will finally ceases his pacing, running a hand over his close-cropped hair before he sinks down into his usual place on the couch opposite. "We should go over the plan for tomorrow."

I suppress a sigh, twisting my hands nervously in my lap. "Go on, then."

"Kay, you will meet us here first thing tomorrow morning. Jules will be helping you get dressed and I have a carriage coming by to pick us up." Will transitions seamlessly from instructor to drill sergeant, his voice clipped and his gaze intense.

I nod my understanding. For once, his bossiness doesn't annoy me. Tomorrow I will be completely out of my depth and am more than willing to accept any offer of assistance.

"I have arranged an interview with the Princess' chief of staff. If she is satisfied with you—and she will be—then you will be brought straight into the ladies' quarters. I expect they will have some questions about your history and lineage." He speaks calmly, but I can sense the underlying tension. "Do you remember everything?"

"Yes." I recite confidently: "I am your cousin, Abby Fellows. After the tragic death of my parents, I spent a year living in a care facility, before moving on to study pre-Burn literature at the Outer City Academy."

"Perfect." Will nods his approval. "I have taken the liberty of having a friend forge your certification and release papers, so if anyone looks into your background, we'll have you covered."

"Good." I release a breath. "Is that everything? Any more last-minute lessons?"

"No, you're ready." His grey eyes search my face. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to be right there with you the entire time."

"Until they accept me," I remind him.

"I'll still be in the Palace. You can't get rid of me so easily." He sits back, raising his eyebrows. "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"You'll do wonderfully." Jules pats my leg. "The Princess' entourage is just a bunch of shallow kiss-ups, anyway. No one will suspect anything is amiss about you."

I know I couldn't be more different from those Palace nobles, but Jules sounds so certain that I find myself relaxing, ever so slightly.

After a warm dinner and several more forced recitations of tomorrow's plans, I manage to slip free of Will's apartment and run along the roofs to the depths of the Commons. My jog is slower than usual, with only the moonlight and my memory to direct me on a safe route.

I pause on the roof of the Beacon, ruffling my hair loose from its braid and smearing the leftover makeup around my eyes before I drop down onto the street and swing through the door.

The air inside the pub is thick with smoke and I have to blink to focus my vision in the dim light. No sooner have I gathered my bearings than a familiar, beefy arm is draped around my neck.

"There she is!" Harry's inebriated voice bellows in my ear.

I shove him aside playfully. "Get off, you giant oaf—you're spilling ale all over me."