Page 89 of The King's Man 2

“You know this isn’t right. You feel it like me, deep in your bones.”

He looks into my eyes and there’s no hesitation, only understanding and determination. “I know.”

* * *

Sleep is a luxury I can’t afford for the next four nights.

The hours blur together in a haze of herbal teas, bursts of magic, and relentless rounds of constructive criticism.

Slowly, the spells Florentius and I craft come together with more precision, each attempt feeling smoother, more refined. I even begin to sense the subtle weight differences in the compounds I stack.

We’ve progressed from swapping toenails to toad kidneys. On the exam day, though, we’ll face an even greater challenge—live human subjects. So now, Makarios and Mikros stand bravely before us in the classroom, volunteering.

“We’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Mikros says.

“I was thinking a tattoo,” Makarios says, gulping, “But having one of your eyes...”

Mikros nods. “I’ll have a green eye from you, and you’ll have my blue one.”

“Y-you... you don’t think this will affect our marriage prospects?”

“Who’s marrying you?” Mikros swats the back of his head. “We’ll serve here a few years, then travel together and raise some abandoned child to be a medical genius.”

“I was thinking we should raise a girl.”

“Thenshe’llbe a medical genius. And letting Caelus here practice on us is leading the way for a girl to have a chance. Eyes open!”

We’ve practiced this; our spells are correctly stacked. This is no time for trembling hands. I steel my emotions and move with practiced fluidity, in sync with Florentius, and once we painlessly extract a left eye from each, Mikros and Makarios stop crushing one another’s hand and we move on to the trickiest part of the spell. The entire process takes less than half an hour, and once the painkillers have worn off and the curtaining layer lifts, Mikros and Makarios can see again.

They laugh upon seeing one another and then fall into a tight hug that brings tears to their new eyes.

“This is...” Makarios turns to us, choking on tender emotions.

“Yes,” Mikros helps him out. “You’re frightening geniuses. I already knew it of you—” Mikros nods at Florentius and takes a turn around me, inspecting me with squinted eyes. “But when I saw your first stacking attempts, I thought you were a dud.” He smiles brightly. “Seems I was wrong.”

“Thank you for your overwhelming vote of confidence in my abilities.”

Makarios laughs. “You thought he was a dud and you still let him gouge our eyes out?”

Mikros stretches and flings an arm around him. “As you cansee, he’s emerged a butterfly after our extensive tutoring.”

Florentius looks at me and tips his head in agreement. “Even with marks against you, you’ll pass this.”

Their support is a warm blanket, but it doesn’t stop the shivers of foreboding completely. I can do this. I can. The skills are there. Not only can I do it, I have to do it. For my dream, for proving par-linea can succeed, for the hope of the people, even... for standing triumphant in front of Quin when he returns.

I swallow and smile weakly, hand gripped unconsciously around my soldad. Makarios takes it from me and gives it a good polish with his robe. “This time tomorrow, you’ll have four stamps.”

* * *

Tomorrow arrives.

With a determined knot in my belly, I rise, force down a light breakfast, have tea in my room over my notes, and don my newest black cloak.

When I arrive in the apothecary, Florentius is already there, reading calmly, waiting for the examination to begin. Mikros and Makarios are lurking about with words of encouragement that they then throw my way.

“You’re not in your uniform.”

“Underneath.” I flash them the white robe and green sash. “This cloak is... for good luck.” Along with the golden feather Nicostratus gave me. Wearing both feels like a shield. I can imagine what each would say if they were here. Nicostratus would embrace me and wish me the best of luck, and Quin would hook my gaze with his and leave. He’d simply expect me to pass.

---