Page 66 of The King's Man 2

The knot at my throat gives way and my cloak plummets to my feet. I scoop it up, fling it over my arm, and rummage around the room for a fresh shirt and pants. Quin waits at my bedside, taking in the painting I made on the wall there. The violet oak, and two huddled boys in its hollowed trunk. The lids of his eyes lower like he’s lost in thought.

As he quietly soaks in each line of ink, I speak softly. “Your flutette is made from that tree.”

“My brother’s armband, too, I believe.”

I stare wistfully at the painting. “I wish he remembered.”

Quin turns to me, his focus broken. “Would it change anything?”

Would it? Nicostratus is... a genuine kindness, wrapped in strength, with a smile that warms my heart. I look away from the violet oak and meet Quin’s eye. “It doesn’t change anything.”

He nods and snaps his cane closer to the bed. “Take the floor.”

“You can have the whole room. I’ll sleep with Akilah.”

“What?”

“She’s stargazing on the roof. I’ll join her.”

“Wait.”

I pause, halfway to the door.

“You’re male, she’s female. It’s inappropriate.”

“We’re practically siblings. Plus, it beats the floor.”

“You—”

The door shuts behind me. I hurry across the yard, drop some extra blankets in Akilah’s room, and climb the ladder to the roof, where she’s lying starfished under the clear sky. I sit beside her, breathing it all in: that ticklish feeling of my forefathers and River looking down on us.

After a few minutes, I ask her to take off her boots.

She lifts one foot after the other and I undo them.

“I should probably ask why, but I figure I’ll end up without boots either way.”

“You’ve always been the best test subject. Now hold still—I’m going to practice swapping your toenails.”

She raises her head, looks down at her feet and my glowing hands, and reclines again. “Put them back in the right place after.” She lazily traces stars with her fingertip while I rearrange her nails—mostly successfully—and then she freezes and turns her head to me, whispering, “Why is he pretending to be an aklo?”

“Probably because he’s actually the king and doesn’t want anyone to know.”

She snaps upright. I slip on her boots and sigh a foggy breath into the night.

At the crack of dawn, I wake to Lucetta pummelling at the door for Akilah to get up and play. I dress, grab my cloak, and chase Lucetta all the way to Mother’s chambers. My niece sits glued to my lap while Mother fusses around me in delight. We breakfast together, and I escort her as she prepares, reluctantly, for her herb collecting excursion.

Akilah is serving Quin breakfast at an outside table, for once impeccably dressed with a respectful sort of countenance I’ve never seen on her before. I drift towards them and halt when I realise Mother has followed. She’s eyeing Quin curiously; there’s no way Mother will believe me if I introduce him as an aklo. Not with the way he angles his chin like that. Not with the way he looks at me.

“Who is this beautiful man?” she whispers.

Akilah’s perfect composure wavers as she chokes on a cough. I yank my gaze away from Quin and pull my mother in another direction. “Never mind him.”

“Is he courting Akilah? I’d happily welcomehiminto the family.”

“He’s already married. Let’s go.”

“Such a shame. Why is he here?”

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