Two days later, my leg is feeling stronger than it has in years and I am able to leap from my attic window, sidle from ledge to ledge and shimmy down to the ground without issue. I land on the street and stroll toward the main road, aiming to pawn the remaining items I had lifted from Will's house, no longer worried about any impending consequences.

As I walk through the market, I dodge both courtiers and commoners, everyone intent on stocking up on the latest provisions. Our food and water are delivered to us at intervals, sometimes few and far between. Because our resources are drawn from the carefully preserved oases several miles outside the City, we have to ration a fair amount.

The families living in the Court are given a livable amount of rations courtesy of the City, but many of them will come into the market to stock up on extras. This leaves fewer goods for us commoners, but you can't blame a vendor for selling to the customer with the most coins.

I refill my flask near Harry's cart and spend a couple of minutes chatting with him, laughing when he pretends to sneak me one of the burned loaves of bread. I bid my goodbyes when an inquiring courtier couple steps up; I doff an imaginary cap to Harry's rich customers and slip away.

Several twists through the alleyways later, I find myself in a rougher part of the City. Here, the buildings are packed tightly together and appear to loom inwardly over the already-cramped streets. I pass several people huddled in doorways before I locate Mo's pawn shop and swing gaily through the door, glancing about at the new wares.

"Ah, there she is." Mo materializes seemingly from out of nowhere and situates himself behind the counter, drumming his nimble fingers on the knotted wood.

"How are you doing, Mo?" I untie my pouch from my belt and drop it on the counter.

"Been better, been worse. What have you got for me?"

"Straight to the point, as always."

"What can I say, huh? I'm a man of business. You haven't got any of that silverware, have you?"

"I have something almost as good!" I declare, turning the sack over and displaying the odds and ends with a flourish.

Mo pokes through the few scattered bobbins. "Is this it?"

"What do you mean, 'is this it'? I have some really great pieces, right here. Look, look at this." I locate the ivory hair comb and brandish it at him.

The old thief takes the comb from me and turns it over in his hand, squinting.

"Yes, this is quite a nice piece." Mo speaks slowly, ever calculating. "But I am afraid I can't give you more than ten silvers for the whole pot."

"Are you kidding me? That comb is worth ten alone!"

"It may well be, at some respectable shop up in your hoity-toity districts, but down here it's worth three." He doesn't bother hiding his yellowed grin.

"You're a regular burglar—you know that, don't you, Mo?" I sigh and rub my forehead. If there were a better place in the City to take these goods, I would have tried my luck there. Unfortunately, Mo is one of the few shops still operating as a not-so-strictly-legal business.

"I'll tell you what." I chew on my bottom lip, pretending to think it over. "Give me four silvers for that comb, and one for each of the rest. That's fifteen."

"Thirteen."

"Deal."

Mo hands over my pay and I make a show of counting out the coins. I scoop the earnings back into my pouch and wish him a good day, then spin swiftly on my heel and exit the shop.

Out in the alleyway, I look up and consider the bricks protruding out of the side of Mo's shop, plotting my path before I jump and pick my way toward the roof. The sunlight breaks through the shadows, creeping over my back and warming my skin as I climb ever higher.

At the top of the building, I situate myself and head toward the City centre, jogging lightly between each jump, enjoying the newfound strength in my leg and the comforting weight of the coins in my belt. I'm leaping from rooftop to rooftop, losing myself in the pure exhilaration of running, when the familiar sound of rattling jewellery interrupts my thoughts. I draw to a stop, standing stock still as I listen. After a moment, I turn toward the source and walk over to the roof's edge.

Peering into the alleyway below, I spy the top of two heads pressed tightly together, one brassy blonde and one dark. The girl's many bracelets are rattling together with each thrust the man makes between her legs. He shudders and falls against her, grunting.

I step back, my heart sinking and my stomach churning as I recognize Lara.

"Gordy, you can get off me now, you nasty bugger," she protests.

I nearly gag. Gordy?

"One more, Lara. C'mon, for me."

He is repulsive, even at this distance.

"I know you haven't got any more money, so that'll do for now. Off you get, then." Her voice strains and I peer over the wall in time to see her shove Gordy back.

My hands curl into fists at my sides. I am already mentally plotting the quickest path down to them. If he so much as lays another finger on her...

"All right then, gorgeous. I'll be off, but I promise to see you again, very soon." He stumbles as he pulls his trousers up. "'Til next time, then."

"Yea, next time." Lara waves her bracelet-laden arm absentmindedly, straightening her toga as he rounds the corner.

I swing over the edge and drop down to the street, gripping the window ledges to control my fall. When I land and turn to face her, Lara's lips are pressed tightly together.

"So what is it, are you spying on me now?" she demands, coldly.

"I was just passing above and noticed something caught between your legs." I don't bother keeping the disgust from my voice. "Him? Really?"

"Yes, Kay. Yes, him, and yes, any other man who can pay for my dinner." Her brow has cleared and she uncrosses her arms. "Do you really want to have this argument again?"

"As many times as it takes." My attitude softens. "That's enough now, Lara. You can't do this anymore." I fumble for the coins at my belt. "Here, look. Thirteen silvers, and it's all for you. I earned it and I'm not giving it away to the beggars. I want you to have it." I place the purse in her hands. "I can take care of us now, Lara. There is much more of this coming to us."

Lara regards the purse before she looks back up at me. "It's really a lovely thought, but we've talked about this before..."

"I know we have, but it's different now." My mind flashes back to the sight of Gordy pushing himself against her and I speak quickly. "I took a job, a big one. This one is going to change everything."

"What are you talking about?"

I grip her hands and the bag of coins falls to the street. "I'm talking about royalty. I'm going into the Palace and I'm going to pretend to be one of them. We're bringing them down, Lara. The whole vile, corrupt monarchy. We are going to bring them down from the inside and things are finally going to get better."

Her blue eyes blink rapidly at me. "You're...what? Going in? To the Palace?"

"That's right." I nod. "And while I'm there, I'll be able to send you anything you need. Think of it: one big job and at the end of it, everything will be different."

Lara doesn't say anything. She stares down at our clasped hands for a long time, eventually raising her head to look at me. Her eyes are moist.

"I don't want to do this anymore," she says finally, her voice breaking.

"You don't have to."

"I want to believe you, Kay, but this... it's too much. It's too risky, even for you." She releases my hands and swipes a stray tear from her cheek.

"I know it's a long shot, but what other choice do we have?" I kneel down to scoop up the coins, my fingers brushing hers as she stoops to help me. "This isn't a life. This isn't what I want for us. I can fix it. I can make it better." I deposit the last coin in the pouch and hand it to her, straightening.

She laughs wistfully. "Gods, you sound just like him."

I stiffen. "Don't talk about him."

"He used to go on like this as well, you know. How we would be taken care of; how they would unseat the King and bring down the separate sectors." She is ignoring me and her eyes have taken on a glazed, far-off look.

I speak through tightly clenched teeth. "I said, don't talk about him."

"We have to be able to talk about him. He was your brother and he was my..." Lara's voice catches in her throat. I sigh and gather her frail body into a hug, allowing her tears to wet my tunic.

"This is different. I know what he did wrong and I'm going to do it right." I close my eyes as I hold her, my heart breaking at the way her frail shoulders shake against me.

Eventually she draws her head up, keeping her hands clasped behind my neck. "I can see him in you, you know. You have the same eyes."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"Yes," I say simply.

She sighs as she trails her fingers down my cheek. "I don't suppose there is anything I can say to make you reconsider."

I give her a small smile. "I'm afraid not."

"Just promise me you'll be careful."

"You must make a promise to me as well." I dodge her request. "That you'll take these coins and get yourself a warm meal. Get rid of those godsforsaken bracelets and dump them in the gutter—I never want to hear them again."

She laughs lightly as she regards the bag of silver, shaking her head. "Gods, I feel like a courtier. Given an allowance and told not to work."

"I do have a very important job for you, in fact," I say, watching her tuck the pouch away into the folds of her skirt.

She looks up at me curiously.

"I need you to manage things here while I'm away. I'll try to send coins and items for pawning as often as I can, and you'll have to make sure that some money goes to Harry, and the beggars near the market, and yourself, of course, and..."

I am cut off with a firm kiss on the mouth. When she draws back, Lara is shaking her head and smiling.

"Dear, sweet Kay. Always looking after everyone else. Please remember to look after yourself this time, will you?"

"Don't worry about me." I grin. "I know exactly what I'm doing."