Page 34 of The King's Man 1

The sound of the bell stops. Muffled voices. Quin steps back into the bedchamber, his expression unreadable.

“Akilah,” he says, calm despite the crackling tension. “But she won’t hold them long.”

Bjorn stirs, his lashes fluttering, and I sag with relief.

“He’s waking,” I tell Hrafn, who falls to his knees beside the bed, tears streaking his face.

A sharp knock at the door cuts through the moment.

Quin’s gaze snaps to mine. “Finished?”

“Barely,” I admit, my chest heaving. “But if they see me—”

“They won’t,” Quin promises, his voice firm. He glances at Hrafn. “Get rid of them. Say whatever you must. Send Akilah back in here.”

Hrafn stammers, his fear palpable, but he obeys, stepping out to greet the luminists.

Quin’s calm facade falters for a moment. He grips his cane tighter, his knuckles whitening. “Take Akilah and go,” he orders. “The back door leads to the river where we left the boat.”

“What about you?” I ask, my voice low.

Quin fixes me with a look that’s equal parts annoyance and something I can’t quite name. “Think I can’t handle a few luminists?”

His self-assurance is infuriating, but the weight of his tone has me ready to follow orders.

Before I can respond, Akilah bursts into the room, her face pale. The luminists must have frightened her.

“Not just luminists,” she says, reading my mind. “Frederica sent an aklo after us.” She trembles as she holds the paper. “Your niece—Lucetta, she was injured in the earthshake.”

The air leaves my lungs. My mind reels back—just last week, her bright eyes were laughing as she staggered through the courtyard with a basket far too big for her little arms.“Look at me! Picking herbs like Uncle Cael.”She was so proud, even though her basket held only grass.

“She’s alive,” Akilah says quickly, snapping me back to the present. “But your father... I’m not sure...”

I squeeze my hands into fists, my nails biting into my palms. My father would do what he could, but simplex spells might not be enough. Especially if the injury is severe.

My mind spins, but Quin steps forward, cutting through my panic.

“Take the boat,” he says steadily. “Go.”

I hesitate, my gaze flicking between him and Akilah. He strides to the back door, opening it to reveal the flatboat at the bank.

His dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, something unspoken passes between us. And I’m somehow more... confident.

“Thank you,” I murmur, stepping past him.

He doesn’t reply, but his gaze lingers on me as I help Akilah onto the boat, my mind already racing ahead.

* * *

Akilah and I yell over one another, trying to navigate the narrowing canal.

“Left.”

“Other left!”

We’re barely holding it together. A low-hanging branch scratches across my cheek, and I let out a frustrated laugh. My limbs feel heavy from manoeuvring the boat, from the night’s chaos, from the fear that I’ll be too late to help...

The trees along the banks deepen the dark with their shivery silhouettes. A breeze stirs, colder than the night itself, rustling the water’s surface and pricking at the back of my neck. Akilah glances behind us, her brow furrowing.

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