The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 14

I awoke before dawn and now I find myself poised and tense in Will's flat while Jules fusses with the hem of my skirt. She has dressed me in a linen toga, dyed the palest of blues and cinched at the waist with a gold belt. My hair has been combed, with a few unruly tendrils springing loose around my face, the remainder braided into a thick rope that hangs down my back. The final touch is a sweep of kohl around my eyes and a simple jewelled headpiece laid low on my head.

As Jules works, I practice drawing up my posture and reciting the names of the nobility. I haven't been this nervous since I first started breaking into courtly homes five years ago.

Losing myself briefly in the memory, I recall a modest townhouse on the fringes of the Court. I had crept in through the unlocked back door, grabbed the first item I could get my grubby hands on and scampered back out. I managed to swipe only a single serving spoon, but the heart-pumping excitement fed me more than the score ever could.

Will emerges from his bedroom, pulling on a leather vest over his shoulders. He is dressed in a white collarless shirt, which is tucked into a pair of soft trousers and rolled neatly to his elbows. His boots and vest are made of the same quality leather—strange to my eyes as I have only seen him wear scuffed and travel-worn apparel. A green kerchief is tied loosely around his neck, useful against the coarse sand blowing in the street.

As I take all this in, I almost fail to notice the biggest change of all.

"Your beard!" I exclaim.

He laughs as he rubs his jaw, "Yes, it's gone. I thought I should polish myself up a bit for your big debut."

I grin, my nervousness easing somewhat. "How considerate of you."

"You look fantastic," he says.

For the moment, I can't manage to formulate a reply.

"Jules, you're a miracle worker," he finishes.

I turn away and roll my eyes. Of course, the compliment was meant for Jules. Though I will admit, it does take a considerable amount of talent to turn a gutter rat like me into a lady to be presented at the Palace.

"I think you're all set." Jules steps back and regards me, her dark head tilted as she considers me.

I draw my shoulders back and throw her my most haughty look.

She giggles. "You've nailed it."

Will is leaning out the window, his long fingers threading the silver buttons on his vest through their holes. "The carriage is here," he announces, drawing back inside and nodding to me. "Are you ready?"

I bite my lip. "Let's go."

Jules reaches over and pulls me to her chest in a tight hug. I squeeze her back, pulling away quickly when something itches behind my eyelids. Ducking my head, I busy myself gathering my dress away from my feet.

I follow Will down the stairs and into the street. A wooden carriage drawn by a large silver gelding waits patiently by the curb. The driver is dressed smartly in a grey vest and cap, which he doffs at me while he holds open the door of the carriage and gestures us inside.

I am about to step up when I feel Will grasp my hand, supporting me as I climb aboard. He offers me a reassuring smile before disappearing around the side of the carriage. I breathe out a nervous sigh between my teeth, sitting stiffly while Will settles himself on the bench next to me.

My stomach lurches when the cart rolls forward; the movement feels unnatural.

"Are they expecting us?" I ask quietly, not wanting the driver to overhear our conversation.