her a look that said he was just relating what he’d heard, and then walked away, leaving his parents arguing about where the baby was going to be born.
It would keep them busy for a while. Possibly long enough for him to put his plan into action.
The short walk back to his apartment passed quicker than he’d expected. He locked the door and went to his wardrobes. A rifle through them made it clear that he had nothing to wear that wouldn’t make him stand out from the crowd wherever he went. He needed clothing that was a little more common looking if he was going to get off the planet unnoticed.
None of the servants’ clothes would do. They were all too recognisable as well.
He took the purse of gold Lynans he kept in his desk drawer and went back to the wardrobe. He stripped off his jacket and his boots, swapping them for a pair of worn riding boots and an old riding jacket. A glance at himself in the mirror made him realise he was even more noticeable now. He growled in frustration, removed the jacket, and went back to the wardrobe. There was just nothing suitable.
At the back of it, he found a moth-eaten cloak that he’d had since forever. His parents had insisted that he throw it away, but he’d always refused. He was glad that he hadn’t now. He wrapped it around his shoulders and went back to the mirror. It was better. The old brown cloak would hide his crisp white shirt and tight black trousers. It went perfectly with the scuffed boots. He looked at his face. He had to do something about that. Everyone on Lyra Prime knew what he looked like.
He stared at himself, into his almost jet-black eyes, and ran his fingers over his short black hair. A hat? It was the quickest method of disguise that he could think of. Unfortunately he didn’t own any hats.
He was too clean as well. The people using the public freighter transports were likely to look more worn and dirty. He went to his balcony, stuck his hand into the nearest plant pot and rubbed the dirt across his face and neck and into his hands. A look in the full length mirror made him smile. That was better, but he still could be recognised.
A quick ruffle of his hair made him look less like himself. He smiled at his reflection. He actually looked better than he had before. He liked this new hair style. It was wild and rebellious. Exactly how he felt right now.
Deciding nothing else could be done to disguise himself, he went to the balcony and looked over the edge. He made the short drop to the larger balcony below and ran to the steps that led down into the garden. In the far corner, he found the gate he’d stolen the key to years ago but had always been too afraid to use. He unlocked it and walked through. A sense of freedom swept through him when he locked the gate and then turned to face the wide open road that led down into the city.
He was sure there would be a transport leaving tonight. He didn’t care which one he got on. He looked at the star-filled sky. He just wanted to be up there.
Running down the road, he kept the cloak closed around him to hide his finer clothes, and tried to remember whereabouts in the city the port was. He stuck to the winding side streets, avoiding the large square at the front of the palace. There would be guards there and he wasn’t about to get caught. For the first time in his life, he was going to see how others lived and taste the freedom they did.
He slowed to a walk when the palace began to grow small and distant. His eyes scanned the dark shop windows, running over the displayed goods in fascination. He’d never thought the world would be so colourful and interesting. The shops sold all manner of things, most of which he’d never seen. There were tools in one, material in others, and flowers. He stopped to look at them. He’d never seen such delicate and beautiful blossoms before. They were splendid white irises spotted with rich purple. His eyes fell to the card in front of them. Apparently