Page 5 of The King's Man 2

“Sounds convenient.”

Quin’s eyes narrow. “Doesn’t it.”

“You make it seem like the king’s actions come from a place of concern.”

“Do you doubt that?”

“I’ve seen the state of his aklas. They’re in constant pain from standing all day.”

“Is that so?”

“He doesn’t even give them a day off for the spring gala.”

“I’m sure he has reasons.”

“If he weren’t... himself, I’d give him a piece of my mind.”

Quin’s lips curl into a half-smile as he places his bishop on the board. “You don’t hold back with me.”

“You’re not that intimidating.”

Quin’s head snaps up.

I turn the chessboard for him. “I mean, you’re moody, but not really terrifying.”

A pawn falls under his touch.

I pick it up, and Quin stares at me as he retrieves it. After a moment, he smiles. “You’re not even a little afraid?”

I pause. The royal city is certainly ruthless, and I fear the consequences of failure—whether in my studies or schemes. But I’m stuck in this game now and there’s no way out but to win. For that, I’ll use all my wit and confidence. I meet his gaze and affect a boisterous laugh. “Afraid of you? Not even a little.”

His eyes gleam as he drums his fingers on the table. “I dread discovering what you might do with this information, but there’s pearl heart in the king’s garden; it can significantly boost one’s energy. It could be a game-changer for the aklas.”

“Really?” I lean in. “Pearl heart? There’s some here?”

“One plant, by the king’s bedchamber.”

“Perfect.”

Quin arches a brow, suspicion sharpening his features. “And how, pray tell, do you plan to harvest this perfect plant from the king’s own garden?”

I lean closer, my voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. “When the moon’s my only witness.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “Foolish as ever.”

“Efficient,” I counter. “You should try it sometime.”

He leans forward, the air between us thickening. “Perhaps I will. Just to see how you fare.”

“Tonight. If you’re still here.”

“I’ll be here awhile, in fact.” Quin’s knight sweeps across the board, cornering the white king with merciless precision.

He leans back, hands folded, his expression unreadable save for the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth. “Checkmate.”

I snatch the white king before he can reach it, spinning it between my fingers with a grin. “You’re awfully smug for someone playing himself.”

“This is just a warmup,” Quin murmurs, his voice holding repressed laughter. His gaze locks with mine. “Next, I play with you.”

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