Floris blinked. “You what?”
“The knave who was supposed to be guarding them was not. He will now face repercussions. The Wynchesters installed someone they trust to obey the law. Someone with a heart.” Her own swelled at the memory. “Workers no longer need toil sixteen-hour days. Small children no longer climb sleepily through dangerous machinery. Lost wages have been restored. And that’s just the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“They took the case to Parliament,” she said with pride. “Because of the Wynchesters, lives are beingsaved. Even the reading circle is preparing a five-point methodology for training future inspectors. They’re coordinating with Graham’s growing network to find qualified, ethical individuals to replace those who are losing their posts.”
The Wynchesters were not the Royal Guards of one specific family, but rather the unhesitating guardians ofeveryfamily that required their help.
“So, no.” Kuni kept her gaze on the rough water. “I am not done. I will stand out here as I promised I would and stare at Graham until England is a tiny speck on the horizon. And when that is over, I still will not have time for your lectures. Save your breath and my patience. There’s no sense talking about something you’ll never understand.”
Reinald gave a derisive sniff. “You think defending the defenseless is noble? What do you think Floris and I have been doing for you all these years? You’d be lost without us to guide you. You didn’t even notice Prince Philbert’s attempts to woo you until we pointed out—”
Perhaps Kunicouldpeel her fingers from the railing.
Just long enough to toss her brothers overboard.
Floris and Reinald loved her, but they did not see her as a full person. They loved her like a pet, to be locked in a cage for its own safety. An eagle with clipped wings inside a golden cage. They thoughtshewas a soft, scared little princess to be protected and spoiled and kept from having any thoughts of her own. Much less to be respected on the same level they were.
But she was nobody’s princess. She was a warrior who would never stop fighting.
A commotion was visible at the far end of the pier. Two carriages had almost crashed into each other. No…the coaches had arrived together.
Seven figures burst from the two carriages and ran at speed up to the end of the dock. It was Marjorie, Elizabeth, Jacob, Chloe, Faircliffe, Philippa, and Tommy. They crowded around Graham, who pointed in Kuni’s direction.
They all turned to look.
The ship was now far enough away for the Wynchesters’ faces to be blurry. Or perhaps that was just Kuni’s eyes.
Had they come to take Graham away? Bundle him off, rather than let him stand there watching Kuni leave?
Marjorie rushed to the edge of the pier, touched her fingers to her heart, and raised them to the sky.
One by one, all the other Wynchesters followed suit. Not waving goodbye, but letting Kuni know that part of her would always stay with them. Hands to their hearts, fingers to the sky.
42
Wynchesters,” Reinald said in disgust.
Kuni didn’t even turn around. “Say one more word against them, and it will be your last.”
Floris leaned against the railing, unconcerned about the Wynchesters or the threat of violence against his brother. “Well? Did you learn your lesson?”
She gripped the railing even tighter. The clouds were darkening overhead. Rain would come at any moment. “Lesson about what?”
“You said you spent the past weeks on holiday.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Obviously you now realize you were not cut out for the life of a Royal Guard and decided to amuse yourself some other way. It’s all right, Kuni. Reinald and I always knew you wouldn’t be able to gather any useful intelligence. How could you? You’re a—”
With one arm wrapped around the railing, Kuni tugged her own extensive journal from her bag and slapped it into Floris’s hands, then shoved Graham’s meticulously crafted album into Reinald’s.
“That’s all I had time to gather,” Kuni said. “Feel free to show meyourlittle reports when you’ve finished reading mine.”
Her brothers paged through the volumes in shock. Even the violent gusts of wind rocking the ship didn’t rattle them as much as the compilations in their hands.
“Holy bog-popple,” Floris breathed. “You did all of this yourself?”
