Page 85 of The King's Man 2

“We lost.”

He stops me making a mess of knotting my cloak back on and takes over with careful fingers.

I scowl across the arena at studded-belt Aklo. And then scowl deeper at the most irritating responsibility I’ve accepted yet, with his stupid fake voice, mysterious mask, and questionable morals.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you all the clasps.”

I look at Nicostratus’s beautiful, sincere face, and my frustration ebbs. “You really are the kindest person I’ve met.”

“Decided.” He bops my nose. “You’re not allowed to meet anyone else.”

I’m laughing when a redcloak rushes up to Nicostratus, message in hand. Nicostratus reads the note and stiffens. “Has this been verified?”

“We’re waiting on official confirmation, but it should arrive tonight.”

He nods sharply and looks at me. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I understand.”

I watch him march off with the redcloak, then I slink towards the canal in the quickly cooling air. Even summer is not on my side today; it would’ve been cold in the woods, and even colder on my own. I huddle into my cloak as I watch the last boats taking spectators back to their quarters, then sigh and trek along the canal.

Someone clears their throat—I jerk my head up to the black knight, still masked, in a two-person dinghy. “Come on,” he says, his voice his own again.

For a few moments I stare, stubbornly resistant. But at a cool, possibly manufactured gust of wind, I shiver and reason I have nurturing duties to fulfil. I climb into the boat opposite Quin.

“As your light in the tunnel of darkness,” I say, and Quin’s gaze fixes firmly on mine. “I have things to say. You may not like them.”

His lips twist upwards at one corner.

It pours out of me in a big rush. “It’s not right being all flirtatious with your uncle’s aklo. Not only is it questionable on a moral level, your wife wasright there—also, youhavea wife. Additionally, it’s a risky choice. He might be a ploy of your uncle’s, luring you in to turn on you. Then what will our future look like?”

“Our future?”

“Your people need a wise, compassionate ruler.”

Quin pulls the oars and we glide towards a sparkling bend in the canal. “It was just another act. He showed interest, and I used that. A name. A lead.”

I blink. For Quin, this wasn’t just a game. Each of his moves was a calculation. The pitch had merely been a stage where alliances were tested, power asserted, and secrets ultimately whispered. “You did all that for information,” I say simply.

“When my uncle kills all my other leads, what choice do I have but to stoop to his level? Every move feels like a betrayal of what I should stand for... but if I don’t act, I lose everything.”

Boxed in a corner, what else could he do?

At Quin’s contemplative gaze on me, I shift and swallow. “What did you find out?”

“Under the cover of the chaos after the earthshakes, he brought the wyverns into the caves beneath the royal city.”

“If that’s true...”

“Those earthshakes likely weren’t natural.”

I recall the injured lined up at Frederica’s estate; the bodies of those who didn’t make it in piles beside the rubble; Quin using all his power to hold the dam and keep it from killing an entire village. “All that death and loss...” My voice breaks and I stare Quin directly in the eye.

He pulls the oars hard. “All I have now is hearsay. I need proof before the officials will concede to my orders to strip him of his title and exile him.”

“Proof?”

Quin nods. “I need to find the mages he used to do this.”

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