Page 20 of The King's Man 4

“Is there any other way in?”

“Pay an exorbitant fee to the lady of the house. Or...”

I eye the dazzling group, and Sparkles the leader. “Or?”

Sparkles gestures to the women. They laugh and pull me into their dressing room where I’m stuffed into skirts, my hair pinned up with sparkling ornaments, my skin powdered and perfumed. Delicate silk cloth veils my face from the nose down. “Adds an air of mystique.”

Also veils the less feminine angles of my jaw.

The women sigh and gush, and shake their heads. “Unfair. That he’s aman.”

I give Sparkles the rest of my money. “That’s all I have. Don’t know how else to repay you.”

Sparkles smiles and lends me a performer’s token.

“Oh, don’t worry aboutthat,” another says. “Sparkles is more about giving back than she is taking. Why else do you help the eparch with all his donations?”

Sparkles flushes and there’s a special sparkle in her eye. The sparkle of someone infatuated. “You’re paying me in entertainment,” she says. “I don’t often get to play dress-up with men. Let’s get you a prop.”

My prop is a tray of wine. Balancing it, I quietly sneak upstairs. Hushed tones drift from an adjacent room. I set the wine on the table, and their words fall heavily on my ears.

“. . . send him south to the others soon,” the commander says.

Their conversation unfolds, revealing the precarious state at two of the kingdom’s borders, west and south. West is stable for now, but perhaps the greater threat, while the south has been thrown into disarray since the regent withdrew troops. “Territories are vulnerable to our foes. My additional ten thousand have helped keep up the appearance of strength, but it’s a façade. Lives hang in the balance.”

“How long can the units hold out?” Eparchess Juliana asks, her concern palpable.

The door snips behind me as the woman, Sparkles, enters the room carrying food. She passes me with a glint in her eye.

“Who’s there?” the commander demands, entering the main room with Eparchess Juliana on his heels.

I straighten the wine and set down the cups, and Sparkles announces their food. “Leave it and go,” the commander says.

“Should we not perform for you?” Sparkles asks with a lift of her eyebrow my way.

Is this her way of exacting payment? To witness me making a fool of myself? Or...

Thalassios looks like he’s about to bark for us to leave again, but a redcloak enters with a message for his commander. “Sir, there’s someone downstairs wishing to speak to you.” He steps up and speaks quietly at his ear.

The commander grimaces, and glances at Eparchess Juliana. She nods. “I’ll leave you to him.”

When I try to follow after her, he tells me to stay. One of us is to play the harp, the other to dance. “Make sure he’s entertained. Fully entertained.”

I stifle a frustrated sigh when the door shuts behind Juliana. I’ve discovered little about her, have no clue why she keeps showing up.

Sparkles quickly jumps behind the harp, leaving me to dance. I swallow tightly. At least I’m not behind the instrument. I eye the lazily watching commander. Perhaps I’ll learn something useful yet.

Music tinkers around the room, and I thank Akilah for her insistence on making me learn traditional dances. She, of course, got me to do it for laughs—but those laughs are saving me.

I’m mid-spin when ‘Constable Soterios’ enters. I hurriedly regain my footing and fling my arms elegantly in time to the music, battling a galloping heart. He’s here?Now?

The commander urges Quin to sit, take some wine, and it’s during their first toast that Quin scans the room. His eyes flow over me and snap back. His hand jerks, spilling wine across his knuckles. For a heartbeat, his gaze locks on mine, unreadable. Then he rips his eyes away, masking his thoughts with a laugh. “Excuse my clumsiness,” he says, lifting his glass. “I wasn’t expecting such... unique performers tonight.”

Outwardly, I’m a series of delicate steps to quickening music, hips sashaying, hands twirling in the air. Inwardly, I’m groaning at Quin’s untimely appearance.

“What brings you here?” the commander asks.

“I understand you donated oats to the incoming refugees yesterday.”

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