Page 98 of The King's Man 1

He. “How did you know...”

“So he abandoned you.”

“It’s not like that. He was summoned by the—by his brother.” I sigh and it clouds into the cool air. “My potential future brother-in-law will be the worst.”

Quin glances at me, one eyebrow lifting.

I laugh. “I’m sure you’d give him a run for his money. Why were you riding the streets alone?”

“I wanted to sneak a look.”

“At the lights?”

“My brother has fallen for someone.”

“Love. Must be in the water.” I throw him a bright smile. “Were they happy? Were they sharing their lights?”

He sighs, feigning grief. “I lost track of him and found you instead.”

“By all means...” I gesture to his horse below.

He doesn’t budge. “I’ll have my curiosity sated soon enough. This way you get your thankyou gift. For saving me.”

I nod. “I absolutely love sitting on this icy roof with you. You, too, excel at gift-giving—”

Sharp laughter. Quin curls an arm around my shoulders and pulls me atop his extended cloak, soft and immediately warming under me. He says, “I haven’t given you anything yet.”

My gaze jumps to his. The subtle weight of the gift I’m carrying for him shifts against my thigh.

His eyebrows quirk and he pulls back, admiring another dazzling spray of lovelights below. “Tell me about the exam first. Were you nervous?”

I let out a shuddery breath as I think back on the day; how much has happened. “There were a few questions where I feared, for a moment, I’d let everyone down.”

“It’s by no means an easy examination. I fear they made last-minute amendments to make it especially difficult.”

“Especially?”

“Knowing you’d be taking part.”

“A self-taught commoner with a measly magic root.” I laugh coldly.

“You represent change. That’s what many of them fear most.”

We stare at a couple on a boat, their hair swirling around their heads, tangling as their lovelights whirl around them.

“If you hadn’t taught me how to leech magic so I could wield the pen, I would have failed at the first diagnosis.”

He looks at me blankly. “If you’d failed over a technicality like that, I’d be up in arms, demanding a redo of the whole thing.”

“Nevertheless, it’s thanks to you I passed.”

“Thank yourself. You’re the one who has come up against, and overcome, everypossible obstacle.”

My throat aches and I swallow thickly. With a shaky finger, I poke Quin’s arm. “Where’s my gift?”

From an inner pocket of his cloak, Quin draws a rolled piece of fabric. It shimmers blue and silver in the moonlight. The colours of river pearl; the colours that border my soldad.

His fingers slide over my wrist and mine jump. He pauses, fractionally, then tugs my hand toward him. The fabric unfurls, breaking into two fingerless gloves. He slips the soft, thin fabric over my hand, steers the thumb into its neatly sewn slit, and unravels the glove up my wrist. My palms are instantly warmer. My head snaps up. “Mountain pearl-reed?”

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