Jacob removed an oversized woolen cloak from his leather satchel. “I’ll wrap this about myself. Hunched over with my face hidden, I can pretend to be Graham’s pregnant wife. If anyone sees us, I moan alarmingly, he looks appropriately panicked, and we scurry out in the confusion.”
“That is a ludicrous idea,” Kuni said.
“We’ve done it dozens of times,” Graham assured her. “Nothing scatters grown men faster than the thought of witnessing a strange woman giving birth.”
“And we’re Black,” Jacob added. “The browner your skin, the less inclined people are to help you.”
“What a dreadful country. In Balcovia—”
“—only white kings rule,” Graham finished dryly. “Your country was founded by abolitionists, which is enviable, and you are practically royalty yourself, which is…frankly, also enviable. But can you honestly say the color of a Balcovian’s skin does not affect how they are treated?”
A thousand overheard comments and “politely”—as well asimpolitely—worded slights flashed in her memory. Usually from visiting dignitaries…but not always.
“Of course she can’t say Balcovia is a perfect utopia,” Jacob said. “She lives in a palace. She has no idea what life for common folk is like.”
“But I do know what my life is like,” Kuni said quietly. “And you are right. Both of you. It’s a terrible truth and a feasible plan. I will do whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
“It is my honor.” In fact, her blood was already rushing at the prospect ofdoingsomething to help another. Not standing sentinel in silence but diving in headfirst as her great-great-grandfather Willem had done all those years earlier. “Who shall I pretend to be if we’re stopped?”
“You can be the midwife,” Graham said. “I have no idea what we’d all be doing visiting a menagerie when my dear wife ought to be resting—”
Kuni tried not to picture him doting on a pregnant wife. She wouldn’t be here to witness it. Some Englishwoman would be the one to welcome children into Graham’s life. Kuni would be glad to miss the happy tidings.
“Well, my baby is coming early,” Jacob said. “The midwife insisted I exercise my legs, and I have a fondness for animals.”
“Will the antbear stay calm?” she asked.
“Ralphie’s asleep already. He’ll be as quiet as a—” Jacob moved away from them and hurried toward another cage. “Look what they’ve done to Lady Leonatus!”
“No,” Graham said. “We are not taking an eagle with us.”
“They clipped her wings,” his brother said in outrage. “Clipped aneagle. She lives to hunt and fly! And she’s stuffed into a cage the size of my armoire. We cannot leave her behind to wither and die like this.”
“And you cannot strap a bird of prey to your chest,” Graham said.
Jacob already had tools in hand to open the cage.
“Stop him,” Kuni hissed.
“It’s a lost cause,” Graham whispered back. “He adores birds and is always rehabilitating and releasing injured ones. There is no chance of Lady Leonatus staying here.”
“But she will eat Ralphie if they are strapped next to each other,” Kuni protested.
Graham sent her an expectant look.
“No. You are an unmitigated parsnip if you think for one second…” She swung her gaze toward his brother.
Jacob gazed back at her plaintively.
“Oh, all right,” she grumbled and inched closer to the open eagle cage. “Give me Ralphie, and you take Lady Leonatus under your cloak. We are Wynchesters, here to help the helpless.”
Which was how Kunigunde, companion to the princess and future noble Royal Guardswoman, found herself creeping out of a British fortress after nightfall with an antbear strapped to her chest.
They were spotted only after unlocking the gate. The trio took off running down the dark street, a lone guard trailing far behind.
A groom leapt down from an unmarked carriage at the corner. He made rapid hand signs. Graham answered in kind. Grinning, the groom rushed forward to bundle Kuni inside the coach. Graham and Jacob were beside her before she could blink.
