Page 51 of The King's Man 2

“I don’t want you here for me.”

Aaaand honest to a fault.

“Why not?” I ask.

He’s quiet.

“Because I’m par-linea?”

“Yes.”

I open and shut my mouth. Frown.

No, this isn’t the Florentius I’ve quietly observed. He keeps using this excuse, but there is something behind it. I feel it. I lean forward and pinch his chin. “When will you learn I won’t be pushed away like that? I’m par-linea. So what?”

His sigh slides over me, spiced with fear. “Most of the kingdom’s officials are against you. You’re only safe from their schemes to get rid of you because my father believes you’re a joke. If they saw what I’ve seen...” He looks me in the eye. “You’d terrify them.”

“You don’t want me to be here for you, because you think—”

“What I want will only bring you more to their notice.”

“What do you want?”

Florentius rises from the bed and touches the teapot.

“I found a matching teacup,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing the handle as if it might shatter under his touch. “It’s part of a set I gave my older brother when he moved to the palace.”

My stomach tightens—was that the teacup I broke in the market?

Florentius hesitates, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought finding it was a sign he’d be alright, but...” He swallows as he stares wistfully at the pot.

I ask softly, “Why was it left in my room?”

“Because it was his room. Before he was taken away.”

I imagine his brother mid-cup of tea, focussed on his books, when redcloaks invade. “Why? What did he do?”

“He dared to suggest women be allowed to study vitalian arts. He taught the high duke’s daughter in secret.”

My chest feels heavy.

“The daughter saved a life.” Florentius’s fist squeezes around the teapot handle. “The high duke found out. He cast his daughter out of the royal city, and Lucius to that cold, sickly island. I want... to save him.”

I slump into his chair with a profoundly touching realisation. I look up at him slowly.You’ve constantly criticised my knowledge, publicly doubted my abilities... to shield me.

While also worrying about his older brother, wishing to help him.

“Florentius,” I say on a sigh.

He steps back, brows quirked with sudden discomfort.

I reach out to capture his hand and he rears back like a startled rabbit. “Whatever you’re doing, stop.”

I slide off the chair onto my knees before him. “I mean it. You have me as a friend, forever. I will help you however I can. I will—Where are you going?”

He’s a blur of swishing robes as he vanishes through the door. The thunk of it closing jolts through me, and I murmur a fond tsk-tsk-tsk. “Florentius, dearest, this isyourroom.”

After I’ve discharged my duties for the day, aklos escort me away from the scholarly precinct, and it’s to my shame I don’t figure out where I’m headed until I’m entering the queen’s private chambers. The resplendent tea room. And, waiting before an elegantly laid table, Queen Veronica.

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