Page 151 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“And Finch?” he said, the air only barely shimmering.

She didn’t know where to look, where to find him.

“Yes?”

“If this all goes wrong, I hate you right back.”

She rolled her eyes, but she did lean in when she felt a phantom hand on her cheek. “I know,” she said.

He did not smear the ink until they were safely in her building, climbing the stairs to her office. Halfway up, Nore hesitated—she needed to say this, and when they were there with their bags and moving again, she didn’t know if she’d find the words.

She caught his hand, pulling him to a stop. “I’m going to give you a choice,” she said earnestly, unable to meet his eye. “And whatever you choose, I will follow through. But we should decide now.”

He frowned, catching her chin. “What is it, Finch?”

Nore didn’t meet his gaze. “I booked you passage to Nadira,” she said, the words rushing out of her, “should you choose to go. And for myself, the northern territories—there’s a mess I need to clean up.” She hesitated, trying to formulate the words. “But there is an extra ticket to join me, if…”

“Nore,” he said, the laugh catching in his voice. “You fool. I hope that Nadiran passage is refundable.” He leaned close to kiss her forehead, then the top of her head, then wrapped her in his arms. She held him as tight as she was able. “I’m not letting you out of my sight after this,” he murmured into her hair. “Who knows what prison you’ll end up in next.”

She poked him hard in the side. “You get caught far more than I do.”

“I only get caught when you’re involved.” He tipped her head up, pressing his lips to hers. “And usually, it’s your fault.”

“Only if you’re certain.”

He started back up the stairs, dragging her behind him. “Wasting time, Finch. Places to be.”

Nore snorted. Later—they’d have so much time later. She let them into her floor and then her office, where the yowling was audible through the door.

“Is that my cat?” Caspian asked, voice colored with glee.

“Our cat,” Nore said, pushing the door open. “Now, I need to finish something, if you’ll—”

She was interrupted by a plaintive yowl, and Nore braced for teeth—but Grimsby went right around her. He climbed the leg of Caspian’s trousers, then Cas was pulling him up. Nore looked on grimly as the cat curled into Caspian’s arms like a baby, immediately purring.

“My boy,” Cas said, the joy in his voice unmistakable.

Nore turned back to her desk, pulling a sheet of paper. “I risk my life to save you,” she muttered, “and I get half as much excitement as the damn cat.”

Caspian was too busy cooing to Grimsby to answer.

Nore focused, going back to her work. She had very little time left, and she didn’t want to implicate Kota in anything she was about to do. That was the trick—she had no desire for her clerk to get caught up in this.

She settled on a list of invoices to be paid and appointments to be kept, the information to access the company’s accounts in the merchant quarter bank, and a plea for Kota to be safe.

I understand if you want to leave your position, and I would not fault you for it. But I ask you to give me a few weeks and then take your leave—and if you do decide to stay, I can guarantee you a promotion to the head of my operations with the salary to match.

I’ll write when I can, she finished. And explain what I can then.

She hoped that would be enough.

Finished, she turned her attention to the bags she’d packed that afternoon. She grabbed Caspian’s bag and tossed it in his direction; she had every faith he would catch it while still holding the cat. “Cas, those are clothes. Might as well wash your face.” Nore shifted to the other bags, checking the contents. There was a low whistle behind her when she opened the two large bags full of money.

“I forgot how nice it was to have a rich wife,” Caspian said.

She threw him a glare over her shoulder. He was halfway through changing; he’d put Grimsby down, but the cat now just wound through his legs, purring happily.

Nore stood, turning in a slow circle, taking a final look at her office. How much she wished she could go to the girl who’d spent half her life behind that desk, to shake her. To make her think about what she was doing.