The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis
Chapter Forty-Five
The velvet curtains of a carriage pressed into my cheek as I laid my forehead against the window. They were pulled back, as they had been since we left the safe house.
The minute we’d arrived from the castle, guards rushed the two of us into this unassuming carriage and ordered us out of the city. We hadn’t even been able to change. Cass still wore his bloodstained coat, and my once beautiful golden gown, now torn and splattered with blood and dirt, sprawled over the carriage floor.
We’d traveled for too long. If my entire appetite hadn’t left me, perhaps forever, I might have been starving. The daylight sneaking under the curtains was starting to fade. How long would we ride without stopping? All the way to Aurell?
“Do you think he’s dead?” Cass stared blankly ahead.
I knew he was talking about his father, but I thought of Luke and Gilow.
“I’m sure he made it out,” I whispered.
Cass nodded, but I think we both knew it was doubtful.
The bumpy trail beneath us gave way to smoother ground. The now-familiar sound of wheels over cobblestone seeped through the floorboards. I peeked outside.
A new city stared back at me. Streetlamps lit the tall shops, a mix of pastels and deep but vivid paints coloring them. We had to be in Morra still.
Our carriage drew to a stop. Cass and I waited for the guards that had been traveling ahead of us to open the door. When they did, we were quickly ushered into a wide door. Ordered to keep our heads down, I climbed the flat stone steps alongside Cass before entering through the back door.
A wave of voices washed over us. Women in with ripped skirts and torn sleeves. Men missing their coats with disheveled hair. Guards stood by every door and window. A few servants, some just as dirty as Cass and I were, meandered about. Others sat with their head in their hands in scattered chairs.
The din of the conversation intensified as we entered a large sitting room. A few dozen survivors, all still donning their party attire, bit their nails and rested with heads in their arms. A few of the women were crying, but I saw none of the men trying to comfort them.
“Cassian?”
We both turned at the call of his name, just in time to see Lady Lilith rising from a small bench pressed against the wall behind us. She smiled weakly, keeping her eyes on her prince. I’d never seen them so soft. “You’re alive.”
“Have you seen anyone else?” he asked. “My father?”
“Your father is alive,” she said. “He left for Aurell not a half-hour ago. Percy and Kaya went with him.”
Cass let out a small breath.
The bastard had lived, and so had Percy and Kaya. We’d failed. The enemy was still in power. It was even worse than what I feared might have happened if I’d only tried to secret Cass away. Instead of the chance that Cass would follow in the footsteps of his late father, the father was still alive.
And the failure was nearly entirely due to me.
“Who else made it?” I asked.
Lady Lilith nervously flicked a ring on her middle finger. “Donestan is here. He was hit during the onslaught, but he’ll live. West is upstairs with him now.”
“Who else?” Cass asked.
Lady Lilith winced. “Bundy and Anne are dead. I saw it myself. They got Anne leaving the courtyard, and Bundy would not leave her.” She took a deep breath. “Irene escaped. She’s readying a carriage to leave now. It’s so late, I doubted I would even see you again.” For a moment, I thought Lady Lilith might break into tears, but she held her composure. I’d give her one thing, she was resilient.
Cass clenched his jaw. “How did they get the servant’s uniforms? How did they know the entrances to sneak into?”
I searched his face for any doubt in me, but his eyes were steady and trusting. I suppose saving his life had, for now at least, earned me his unyielding faith.
“Does it matter? It happened.”
“When are you leaving for Aurell?” Cass asked Lady Lilith.
“First thing in the morning, I suppose,” she said. “So long as Donestan can be moved.”
“Can I see him?” Cass asked.
Lilith smiled. “Of course.” I wanted to visit Donnie too. I was beyond grateful that he’d managed to survive, both he and West. But another familiar face peeking out of a darkened hallway ahead and demanded my attention.
“I follow soon.”
I slipped away from Lilith and Cass. They barely noticed, and I drifted into the narrow hall.
“You couldn’t do it.” Bridgette leaned back against the wall. The light of a distant candle flickered across her face.
“And you couldn’t stay away.”
“Thanks to you, I’m not out of a job yet.” Her clothes were crisp and fresh—not a spot marred the billowing fabric.
“How do you know what I did or didn’t do?” I folded my arms. “You weren’t there to see it.”
“Didn’t have to, but I knew if you arrived here, then that meant you couldn’t go through with it.” She smirked. “To be honest, I had a feeling you wouldn’t. Saw it in your eyes this morning. The fire you had all the week before, I don’t know what changed, but it was gone.”
“You’re surprisingly chipper about all this. I thought you’d be angrier. Aren’t you frustrated that Gilow’s revolution failed? The king is still alive. And the prince. Most of their court. Nothing’s changed. If anything, things are going to get worse now.” I could only imagine how furious King Dreux must be. His rush to return to his capital was not a good sign.
Bridgette shrugged. “I would be if we had lost. But I happen to know for a fact that things are just getting started.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”
Bridgette slipped her hand into her apron. “I received another note this morning. With instructions to give it to you if somehow you and the prince both made it out alive. I couldn’t help but read it.” She handed me the paper. “Tell me if you need anything, Miss Evelyn,” she said, then smugly slipped out of the corridor.
Left alone, I unfolded the note. The dim light was just enough to make out the flowy script.
Gilow is dead. See you in Aurell.
-J
I clutched the parchment. Jace knew. Jace knew all along I wouldn’t do it. And it was exactly what she’d pleaded with Gilow for. She wanted me to go to Aurell and take this assignment further and deeper in some other direction.
So, how was it a coincidence that the one time I ever knew her to break in alignment with Gilow—and on something as important as this— it was the same time he just so happened to disappear?
The answer choked me. If Jace left this note before the attack, how would she know he would fall today?
I crept up to one of the distant candles and let the paper burn away in its flame. I was right where Jace wanted me.
Was the Jace that send this message the same one I thought I knew? Even if she wasn’t, I didn’t have anyone else. If Gilow was dead, then she was our leader.
Jace was the rebellion.
And if I wasn’t with her, then I was against her. If I wasn’t with her, then I was alone.
No, I’d worked too hard for us. Even though I’d saved Cass’s life, I was still a rebel.
I had to keep going until we got what we wanted, no matter who was in charge. If I was in the rebellion’s bad graces now, I’d prove myself worthy of being with them again. Whatever it took.
Bridgette was right—things were just getting started. A real war was about to begin.
And I was right in the middle of it.
END OF BOOK ONE