“Kit? Is that true?” says Helene, baffled.
“Not necessarily the hero part, but the rest of it,” he admitsreluctantly, stepping up beside me. “Since I was already…associated with Fox Rex, Agent Singh asked for our help in finding a rumored list of ABR members. We agreed, and Evangeline has been with me in Oxford since I left London. We’ve been using our connections to infiltrate Guy Fawkes’s inner circle. Seems she did a better job of it than me,” he adds with a glance my way, and I look at the puppy again, scratching her soft black fur.
Ben leans down to whisper something in Maisie’s ear, and they both glance at me before exchanging another whisper. I try to ignore it, but the assignment I gave Maisie before I left for Oxford slithers through me, leaving a trail of nausea behind.
Keep him close. Let him think he’s won. Let him think you hateme.
Nicholas’s jaw twitches. “You had no right to ask that of them,” he says to Singh, who nods in agreement.
“I wouldn’t have done so unless it was of the utmost urgency, Your Royal Highness. By agreeing, they saved our investigation months, possibly years, and my agents ensured they were protected at all times.”
“Ah, yes, because nothing saysprotectedlike a purple jaw and a swollen lip,” says Nicholas, his scowl deepening.
On the giant screen, Doyle clears his throat. “So…you’re telling us that they aren’t terrorists. That they are, in fact, the reason the arrests happened in the first place?”
“Indeed,” says Singh, and Doyle rubs his face with his meaty hands, clearly forgetting his audience.
Ben shifts his stance, his foot tapping erratically on the polished floor. “I for one am pleased that justice is served,” he says in what has to be the bullshit statement of the century. “Butpictures are pictures, and the public will always assume there was a palace cover-up to protect them.”
“You’re right, Your Royal Highness,” says Singh in a deceptively light voice. “The chances of the public accepting that Miss Bright and Lord Clarence are completely innocent of all charges leveled against them are nonexistent.”
“It’s a disaster,” bemoans Doyle. “Unsalvageable. The king’s daughter and the queen’s nephew, caught up with terrorists—even if they’re innocent, His Royal Highness is right. There’s simply no way we can coax the public into believing them—”
“On the contrary,” says Singh. “I believe that if we go public with the story—thefullstory, mind you, or as much as we can declassify in a timely manner—then we’ll have a real opportunity to win over the British people. There’s little more that buys loyalty and compassion than allowing someone in on a secret, and what bigger secret is there right now than what Miss Bright and Lord Clarence have gone through, all in the name of protecting their family and country?”
One, two, three seconds of silence, and then chaos erupts.
“You want to gopublic?” explodes Nicholas.
“Have you any idea how vulnerable that would make Kit? And Evangeline?” says Helene, and I’m impressed she remembers to include me, even as an afterthought.
“Tell the people the truth?” gasps Constance, like this is the most absurd thing she’s ever heard.
“Do you have any idea how many ways this could backfire—” begins Doyle, but they’re all drowned out by Ben’s guffaws.
“You want to turn them into heroes?” he says over the shouting coming from the crackling speakers. “Evangeline can’t evenbe trusted with a solo appearance, and Kit—” His entire body shakes with laughter now. “We all know you’d rather be holed up in a cave somewhere than have a camera pointed in your face.”
The shouts die down as everyone yet again turns toward Kit and me, because Ben might be the biggest arsehole in Britain, but he’s hit the nail on the head. Kit and I are exactly the wrong people for this. If it had been Maisie in Oxford instead of me, she could polish this shitstorm of a situation into a diamond that would redefine history. A new age of Great Britain would rise up in her making, and the monarchy’s future would be secured for at least another five generations.
But my biggest contribution to this country has been my ability to sell salacious tabloids. Even on days when the public likes me, I’m only useful as a laughingstock or some long-running gag. Calling me a hero, or claiming I’m some superspy who helped take down one of the biggest domestic threats to British soil since the real Guy Fawkes himself—it’s a joke. And everyone here knows it.
But because it’s Ben who pointed it out, and because it’s his laughter that echoes around the room as the rest of the volume dies down, I look at Kit. He’s looking at me, too, and though there’s still an enormous distance between us, a space I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to fully cross again, I shift the puppy into my other arm and touch his hand.
“If there’s a way to make it work,” I say, “then I’d rather have the truth out there than let everyone think we’re traitors.”
Kit swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I agree,” he says quietly.
Doyle frowns. “It would take more than just a statement fromthe palace. The public would expect interviews, appearances, perhaps even a book or…or a ceremony of some sort.”
I blanch at the idea of a ceremony, or anything celebrating weeks of me sitting around and one night of sheer recklessness. But I can’t admit how little I really did, or how much I don’t deserve the credit. Not in front of Ben. “We’ll do what we have to do,” I say after the slightest of nods from Kit. “Just…release a statement, and we’ll go from there.”
Ben scoffs again. “Ridiculous,” he mutters. “No one will buyit.”
“Maybe not,” says Singh. “But let’s give it a try, shall we?”
Chapter Twelve
“I would like to personally thank Lord Christopher Abbott-Montgomery, Earl of Clarence, and Miss Evangeline Bright, daughter of His Majesty, for their vital aid in the fight against the Army of the British Republic. Without their courage and daring, yesterday’s arrests of more than three dozen suspected members of the ABR would not have been possible, and we owe them an enormous debt of gratitude for placing both their lives and reputations at great risk to help us find those responsible for the terrorist attack on our nation and our king.”
