Page 72 of The King's Man 2

“There’s more than enough evidence to prove this boy a thief—the shop owner, witnesses, the rare herbs in his hand. Losing his hands not only fits his crime, but serves to discourage other thieves. Having safer streets through punishment leads to overall good. I think you’ll find I’m a mouthpiece for Goffridus.”

The hilarity.

The judge sneers as I struggle not to laugh.

“I’m—I’m also a mouthpiece for Goffridus.”

“You—”

I catch my breath, my trapped laughter dying away. “‘All should be judged in a manner that is fair and proportionate considering the inherent inequality that comes through circumstance.’ Goffridus, theRights of a Benevolent Kingdom.” I gesture to the shaking boy. “A boy with nothing has no choice but to steal to survive. With no choice, can it be called a crime? And if it is, is it not the crime of a kingdom: not giving the weak, poor and vulnerable a choice?”

“Insulting our kingdom is treasonous!”

“You believe it’s an insult? That what I’ve said is offensive?”

“Mightily so.”

“Mightily. Only the defensive would be so offended; if you’re defensive, my words cannot be ignorable. If my words are not ignorable, there must be some truth to them. If there is some truth to them, this case cannot be so easily concluded.”

“I don’t have time for this drivel.”

“If you don’t have time, I have a suggestion.” I pluck a gold coin from the pouch Quin gave me and hand it to the herbal dispenser. “For those herbs.” I take the package from him. “Can we call this a misunderstanding?”

He blinks at me, grips the gold, and nods. “There—there was no crime. There’s no complainant in this case.”

The judge roars. “Spare his hands then, but he still owes me compensation for this cloak! It was hand-stitched by monks from the eastern kingdom! He can be my slave, spend his life on hands and knees. Aklo, bring him.”

Air stirs and an elegant figure descends from a window of the dance academy.Quin.He perches himself on a stall table between stacks of quality parchment, hood cast low over his eyes, shadows shielding most of his face. Gone is his aklo’s uniform, replaced with fine fabrics and shiny boots. His navy cloak is hemmed with gold ribbon.

Of the nobility, at a single glance.

Worthy of attention.

The judge hesitates.

Quin gestures towards me with the flick of a hand. “I felt compelled to interject after hearing such ear-prickling outspokenness.”

Quin, whose side are you on?

I raise my chin, hoping it hides the chaotic thumping in my chest. There’s still a boy to save.

The judge’s eyes twinkle and he prods my chest smugly. “Go, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I won’t leave until you let this boy go.”

“He must pay for his wrong,” the judge snaps.

Laughter again. The judge swivels towards Quin, frowning.

Quin directs his raised voice decidedly towards the judge. “Why do you see a rip in your brother’s clothes, but can’t see you yourself are naked?”

My breath catches.

He twists his hands and the judge lurches into the air. Quin reaches out and runs his fingers over the finely embroidered cloak. “Hand-stitched by monks from the eastern kingdom. This comes at an extravagant cost. Can your salary afford this? I’d be mightily curious to audit your accounts.”

The judge pales.

“Are you sure one mustalwayspay for his wrongs?” Quin asks, silkily soft.

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