Page 83 of The King's Man 1

His jaw tightens and his gaze drops to the fading flicker of his flame. “Some days. Other days... I think of how she taught me to read and write, how she sang songs to me before bed. It’s hard to separate my feelings.” He sighs deeply. “Is it wrong to love someone despite what they’ve done?”

“No,” I say softly. “People are neither wholly good nor wholly bad. We’re complex. You can love and hate someone at the same time.”

The silence between us deepens as we move further into the caves. Nicostratus’s flame reveals glistening fungi and craggy walls. I spot the telltale glow of amorous fungi and warn him, “Cover your face. The spores—”

He cuts me off with a smirk, tying the cloth around my nose and mouth with gentle, ticklish precision. “Like this?”

I’m about to gulp when a low growl rumbles through the cave. My pulse spikes. Eyes glint in the shadows, and wolves step forward, their teeth bared. They pause, growls vibrating through the air, forming a wall of teeth and muscle.

Nicostratus mutters, fire blooming in his hands.

“Don’t hurt them!” I plead. “Just keep them back.”

As he raises a shield of flame, one lunges forward, claws scratching down the barrier. Nicostratus shifts his stance, fire blooming brighter in his palms. Another wolf leaps forward, and Nicostratus pushes out his fire shield. The wolf collapses mid-air, yelping as it falls to the ground.

“Careful!” I call as I kneel by the wounded wolf, murmuring soothing words as my magic flows. Its wounds close, the skin knitting cleanly. Behind me, Nicostratus is a series of swishes and the snapping of boots against stone.

Wolves growl, desperate, until they’re reduced to mournful whines.

In the corner of my eye, I notice a steaming crack and the cocoon husks nearby. I reach for the blackened lump, but my stomach sinks—just fungi. Not immortal bone. Still. Valuable. Useful. As I pocket it, Nicostratus steps close, grabs me by the waist and soars us out of the cave. Silhouetted trees blur beneath us, their branches scraping under my boots. My stomach lurches, the ground dizzyingly far down.

“Was it worth the risk?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” I reply, trying to meet his gaze but being rather preoccupied by the long drop below. “It’s not Immortal Bone, but it’s rare enough. And I owe someone a debt.”

“Someone?” Nicostratus asks.

“He saved my life. Could we...” I point earthward, but Nicostratus doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s frowning.

“What’s the name of this hero?” he asks.

“Ground!”

“Name?”

“Quin!”

“Family name?”

I laugh and clutch him when my footing slips from the thin branch. “We’re not that close.”

“You’re giving him amorous fungi!”

I shake my head wildly. “He owns a dance house!”

Nicostratus relaxes and in a gliding rush he sweeps us from the treetops to the blessed ground. “I am, of course, grateful he saved you.”

I side-eye him. “Are you?”

“Yes. However...” His knuckles bump along mine with a lingering touch that sends my heart skittering. My breath catches, and the world tilts with a panic in my chest that I can’t explain.

Panic? Or excitement?

His lips find mine, and it’s distracting, but questions churn just under his touch. Is this what I’ve run away from my marriage to find? Is this a truth unmasking itself?

Or is this an illusion; something to trap me again?

Ikeep touching my lips—until, the next morning, Akilah’s sharp snap of fingers drags me back to reality.

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