Page 125 of Kingmakers, Year Two

“You’re gonna captain our breakfast now?” Anna teases him.

“Absolutely I am. I will fork-feed you if it helps you perform better.”

“No thank you,” says Ares.

“You sure?” Leo says, picking up a big bite of pancake and pretending to airplane it over to Ares’ mouth.

“Don’t even—” Ares tries to say, and Leo stuffs the pancake in his mouth.

This results in a two-minute scuffle, during which Ares shouts something about non-consensual pancakes and Leo yells at Ares to quit wasting his strength while they both try to wrestle each other out of their seats.

The fight is the perfect distraction. I pick up my knife, which, like all the knives at Kingmakers, is heavy and serrated, with a carved bone handle and a tempered steel blade. It looks a hundred years old. God, I hope it’s not infected with tetanus.

Pathetically, this is the part of the plan I dread the most.

Under the cover of Leo and Ares’ roughhousing, I slash the knife down my own arm in one, quick swipe. The serrated teeth rip my flesh open, and blood pours down on my plaid skirt before I can jerk my arm away.

“Ouch!” I shout.

“Cat!” Zoe cries. “What happened?”

“My knife slipped,” I say, pouting out my lower lip. Said lip trembles. It’s not acting—my arm really does hurt, and I’m nauseated at what I’ve done to myself. I meant to make a nasty cut, but it’s bleeding more than I anticipated, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.

Hedeon is closest. He grabs a linen napkin and clamps it down over my arm.

“You’d better go see Dr. Cross,” he says. “That will need stitches.”

“Good idea,” I say.

I get to my feet, wobbling slightly.

“I’ll take you!” Zoe offers.

“I can do it,” Hedeon says.

“Do you want me to come?” Zoe asks me, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

“No,” I say, quickly. “You guys go ahead, I’ll be fine. The challenge is about to start.”

“Hurry back,” Leo says to Hedeon.

Anna slaps him on the arm for being inconsiderate.

“We need him!” Leo says. “But also, get better Cat. Sorry about your arm.”

“I’ll send him right back,” I promise.

I need Hedeon to leave, and quickly, so I’m only too happy to go along with Leo’s request.

Still, I’m grateful that I can lean on his arm on the way to the infirmary. I really was a little overzealous with that knife. I had to make sure I cut deep enough for stitches, but I overdid it.

“Went a little hard on those pancakes,” Hedeon says, throwing a sideways glance at me.

“I know, I’m clumsy,” I say, in my best sad baby voice.

Hedeon bites the edge of his lower lip, not quite believing me.

I’ve got a few things I’d like to ask him in return, but now’s not the time for sleuthing, or for antagonizing him. I really do need him to carry me along. Hedeon is nowhere near as big as his adopted brother, but he’s still 6’1 and strong. I kinda want to ask him to throw me over his shoulder because, like Leo said,I want to conserve my strength. For different reasons than theQuartum Bellum.

---