Page 2 of The King's Man 3
One man leans over to Akilah and presses a capsule into her trembling hand. “This might help,” he says kindly. Akilah thanks him profusely, her voice broken with pain.
The lie has my chest seizing. These people need real care, not false hope. I fumble for my soldad, desperate to gain their trust, but what can I say? A newcomer like me has no authority here.
The air shifts behind me. I turn, startled—
A sharp jab at the back of my neck.
Darkness.
I stir slowly, my body sluggish and heavy. Blinking, I take in a blurred, cone-like ceiling. Where—? Memories rush back: Lucius’s fraud, the warmth of someone landing behind me.
That wind.
Manmade. Magical.
My heart skips.Nicostratus?No—he wouldn’t knock me out. I push myself upright, voice thick with chastisement and lingering relief. “Quin?”
But it isn’t.
Across the small circular room, seated at a table strewn with wood shavings, is the curious woman from the cellar. She carves methodically, her expression unreadable.
I bolt off the sleeping mat, but the sudden movement sends me to my knees. I rub the sore spot on my neck. “You knocked me out?”
Something about her face—the mouth, the jawline.
The realisation hits like a blow. “You’re the king’s mother.”
Her lips twitch, almost amused. “Casimiria will do,” she says simply, without looking up.
I swallow hard, remembering the weight of Quin’s pain when we met near the canals. He must have been coming from here.
“You must be the one my son talks about,” she says, setting down her work and the knife.
My throat tightens. “He . . . talks about me?”
She arches an eyebrow. “What were you thinking out there?”
I glance at the narrow, arched window overlooking the courtyard, the fog-laden island stretching beyond it. “There’s so much sickness. It can be cured if we act swiftly.”
“You’re earnest,” she says, meeting my gaze. “You’re wrong.”
Her bluntness stings.
She folds her arms. “The duke forbids medicinal herbs here. If redcloaks find anyone trying to bring some in, they kill one of us as a ‘lesson’. Most don’t even know what rule they broke. What do you think would happen if they found out the herbs were never here at all?”
The weight of her words presses down on me.
“Hope,” she murmurs, “is all we’ve got. No other cure can grow on this forsaken rock. Magic might be mighty, but it’s nothing with no plants to feed it.” Her voice softens, but her gaze holds steady. “At least they feel better, believing they’re healing. Lucius is right about that.”
The capsules, the gambling, the smoke, the laughter—this is the only medicine Lucius has to work with.
I slump back onto the mat, her words twisting uncomfortably in my chest.
She smirks faintly. “Your intention was good. Your execution...” She lets the thought hang.
I push to my feet, restless. “But is this not... giving in?”
Casimiria looks at me, and lets out a single laugh. “He said you don’t hold back.”
