Page 95 of The King's Man 1

A shiver races down my spine. The festival. It’s been hard to focus on the excitement of that with the examinations, but... it’s happening. I’m meeting Nicostratus—tonight, at Bell Bridge. I could go there, now. I let out a shaky breath—

When I look up, that little group of scholars has drawn close—surrounded me, in fact. “So. You passed.”

“So I did.”

Heads cock. “Ready for tomorrow?”

I instinctively feel for the pouch containing my Poison Halting Miracle, and meet their gazes. “We’ll see.”

I smile politely and back up a few steps, bumping into a fellow guest as I go. I murmur an apology and turn, but whoever I trod on has been swallowed by a fresh crowd of arrivals.

The bells are chiming six o’clock in the distance when I squeeze my way outside. I’mlate.

I race down the darkening street. Roll my ankle jumping over an icy ditch. I try to spell it—fail. That one drink mocks my magic. I hobble down the snowy length of the canal, past the busy thoroughfares to a quieter, antique bridge at the edge of town.

A hooded figure paces the crest, breezes ruffling his cloak behind him, glorious and mysterious in the burgeoning moonlight.

I smile at the sight and climb the bridge, out of breath.

Nicostratus whips around, relieved. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I just... I passed the first day. We all had a drink.”

He moves to the railing and stares down at the half-frozen water. “I understand.” But he adds softly, “It’s difficult for me to find time for us.”

I tug on his sleeve. “Sorry.”

He pulls me in and sighs against my forehead. “You’re here, that’s what matters.”

His lips linger, tickling my skin. He pulls back slowly, but only an inch. My breath catches, and his eyes drop to my lips. I rock back on my heels, breaking the connection, unsure of his expectations. Further down the canal, dozens of couples are holding hands along the bank. He steps closer, tucking his mouth against my ear. “I don’t expect anything. Don’t be nervous.”

A deep breath leaves me.

I grab at the pouch on my belt, draw out the armband I carved for him and slip it over his wrist. “This is for you.”

He angles his arm against the moonlight and slowly twists the wood around. “You made this yourself?”

“With the wood you gave me. The first time we met.”

He furrows his brow as he inspects the carving. He twists it around once more, resting his elbows on the bridge railing, and glances at me softly.

I lean against the railing and pause a moment as I gaze down at the cold river. Is this what it should feel like?

A flash of a memory—Maskios andthatyear—has me gripping the rail.The escape into the boat. Landing on his lap. Lovelights speckling the sky above us.

I shake off the shivers and yank my head determinedly to Nicostratus.

He smiles, but it soon fades. “I’m moving back into the palace.”

I frown. “Isn’t that the most dangerous place you can be?”

“Sometimes the most dangerous place is the safest. I’m under threat no matter where I am, much to my brother’s exasperation. He wants me closer, to protect me better. If I hand in my military seal and weaken myself visibly in front of the court, my uncle might just keep a watchful eye on me instead of trying to eliminate me. It’s only a little over a year before Constantinos can announce his son as heir to the throne.”

“Will it be better for you after that?”

“Better for me.” His lips twist downwards. “Worse for Constantinos.”

“Why?”

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