Page 23 of The King's Man 3

He sits on the bed and unravels a note. With a satisfied hum, he folds the paper and tucks it into his belt. Then he tosses the blankets to the floor. “You take those; I’ll take the mattress.” He stretches out, his head resting on a pillow, utterly at ease.

I watch him, curiosity gnawing at me. What could the note say? What news does it carry to leave him so relieved?

The moonlight spills into the room, casting long shadows across Quin’s sleeping form. He lies still, his dark hair loose and fanned across the pillow, his brow free of its usual tension. Asleep, he seems almost... ordinary.

The note peeks from his belt, luring me closer. Slowly, I shift, my heartbeat loud in my ears. My fingers curl, careful and quiet, as they slither between the folds of his clothes and the fabric of his belt—

I jerk around as he sits up, our faces inches apart. My eyes widen on a shiver rolling through me. “Sorry. Just curious.”

He pushes me back slightly, his gaze fixed on my fingers tangled in his belt. “About what, precisely?”

I pull my hand back, flustered. “The note.”

Quin retrieves it and hands it to me.

“That’s it? No ‘off with his head’?”

“I’ll consider two rooms next time. Read, then sleep. Your body needs to recover.”

“Are you my vitalian now?”

“Quickly, or I’ll knock you out.”

I unfold the note. “‘Commander Thalassios of Wyvern division, recently transferred, Hinsard outpost.’ Who gave you this?”

“One of my network.”

“You have a network?”

“My most loyal subjects. I gave them the name of the lead I got during our drakopagon game. Turns out it’s a name used for private affairs.”

“Did you meet him during your trip to announce a new general?”

“No. He and his unit recently relocated from the east river.”

“Will he help us?”

Quin frowns solemnly. “Uncertain. We’d be better to meet him incognito until we can be sure. If he’s a spy for my uncle...”

“Aliases it is. Can I be something other than a cook?”

“We’ll see.”

“I’m thinking something impressive.”

“Go to sleep.”

I slink to the blankets on the floor. “Yes, your majesty.”

Quin and his chess set are gone when I wake, but his other things are still here. I eat the breakfast left for me while readingGrandfather’s books, freshen up and head off to find him. He’s sitting at a table in the corner downstairs, all stubborn and perfectly graceful angles. Gridded light from a nearby window casts him in an ethereal glow, and once again I’m hit with the fact: he’s important.

He notices my approach and his gaze drops to the clasp I reset onto my cloak. His eyes lift to mine with an emotion I don’t have the time to identify. As soon as it’s there, it’s gone again, replaced with cool calm. He gestures for me to sit. “Play a round with me.”

We begin, but a few moves in, he grimaces.

“Your head is not in the game. What’s on your mind?”

“I had vivid dreams last night.”

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