She thought of the revelations she held cradled against her chest, of how they could potentially serve up more discord, more upset and controversy. Would she be doing this society any good by revealing her new knowledge?
“I . . .” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Really, it’s nothing that can’t wait. Actually”—she stood up and extracted the scrolls from Noah’s hold—“all I wanted was, uh . . . help with some interpretation. But you are busy . . .” She rounded the peculiar triangular table as casually as she could while she spoke, even turning to back out of the room while giving them a bright smile that she hoped did not look as fake as it felt. “You know, there are lots of books down there, and I bet there’s a translation.” She reached up to smack her palm into her forehead, chiding herself for not thinking properly.
Isabella reached for the door and closed it even faster than she had originally opened it.
Noah looked over at Jacob, one dark brow lifting toward his thick hairline.
“Does . . .?” He raised a hand to point to the door, looking utterly perplexed. “Does she have any idea what a lousy liar she is?”
“Apparently not,” Jacob said with a long, low sigh. “I think that was my fault,” he speculated wryly.
“Your fault?”
“Yeah . . . it is . . . a long story. We better get her.”
“Relax,” Noah chuckled. “She’s leaning against the other side of the door, trying to catch her breath.
“I know. I just thought it would be funny if we opened it behind her.”
“I never knew you actually enjoyed being cruel,” the King remarked, humor sparkling in his eyes as they both stepped up to the exit.
Noah opened the door, and Jacob reached out to catch her, scrolls and all.

Author: Jacquelyn Frank