Page 8 of The King's Man 3

“It’s a simple question. Do you?”

I nod.

“A lot?”

I narrow my gaze.

“So you like her, and having her here was like having me here.” His arrogant smile is infuriating. “That means you like me a lot.”

I shove at his chest. “You’re insufferable.”

Quin catches my hands mid-shove, holding them firmly for a beat too long. His gaze flickers to mine, steady but guarded, before his voice drops to a near whisper. “Did it hurt, hearing I continued south?”

The question steals my breath. I dart my gaze away.

“It was the right move,” I manage, though my voice wavers.

Quin studies me. “I’m sorry, Cael.”

A lump rises in my throat, and I aim a few heated blows at his chest. His hand halts mine, gripping it against his breast, and I look away.

“Explain,” he murmurs.

I pull free, my voice cracking. “There’s no point. I’m trouble to you now.”

His expression stays maddeningly unreadable. “You’ve always been trouble to me.”

I look away.

“Listen,” he says, his tone resolute. “I thought acting as if you were unimportant would stop my uncle from using you. But he called my bluff. He held out on my mother’s antidote to lure me back, so that through you, he can get to me.”

“Why me, when he has your mother?”

Quin’s jaw tightens, his eyes dark. “Presumably he wants you to do something she’d rather die than do.”

My fingers tremble as they grip his cloak. “He’s threatening me. With Akilah, Lucetta—my entire family.”

“Do as he asks,” Quin says, his voice measured.

Anger flares, sharp and hot. I shove at his chest.

His gaze sharpens, but the sound of approaching footsteps halts us both. I clutch at him instinctively, half shielding myself behind him. He smirks faintly, shaking his head as if to say,You’d have no problem feeding me to the wolves.

“There you are,” Casimiria’s voice cuts through the moment, and we snap our heads toward her. She stands at the edge of the coffinweed, her gaze flicking between us. “The high duke is searching for you,” she says to me, her voice tight with urgency. “I told him you were in the kitchen and I’d send someone to fetch you, but he insisted on going himself. You need to get there first.”

A groan rises from my throat. I was really hoping not to face him today. Or any day.

Quin pushes me to my feet. “Go.”

I race to the kitchen, snatching Akilah’s bucket of well water as I pass and hauling it to the outdoor cookfire. I tip the water into the pot, stirring as though I’ve been busy for ages.

The duke’s entrance is greeted by the shuffle of fleeing prisoners and the heavy tread of his boots. I keep my head down as his crimson and gold cloak sweeps into view.

“You.”

I still immediately, keeping my gaze fixed on the rippling surface of the water.

“My scouts tell me my nephew will reach the royal city soon.”

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