Page 24 of The King's Man 3
Quin moves his vitalian.
“Us, in the future.” The vitalian topples over and Quin quickly corrects it. I continue, “Not king and vitalian, but closer than that.”
“Closer?”
“Mm. I’m around to annoy you daily.”
“Close indeed.” His lips twitch, probably at the thought of how he’ll make me suffer in turn.
I move the prince. “I always thought you’d be a difficult brother-in-law, but now I think the frustrations will be worthwhile.”
He huffs.
“Did you dream?” I ask.
“Definitely not about you being my brother. Make your move.”
I shift a pawn to the middle board. “When I woke it made me think of all our past interactions. There’s one I don’t understand.”
“One?”
“Why didn’t you want me to go to that island?”
He studies me for a moment before his eyes drop to the board.
“Your whole face drained when I mentioned wanting to go.”
“You’ve experienced it now.”
“The conditions are atrocious, but I don’t understand...”
He corrects the move I made with an instruction about reading the board a few steps ahead. “I have something of yours,” he says. “Hold on for five moves, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Something of mine, and I have to earn it?”
“Yes.”
I grumble under my breath and start calculating possible moves and countermoves.
A group of travelling scholars enter, calling for the best beer. Locals shift to make space for them, doubling up on smaller tables.
“Have you heard?” one says, “Our king has abdicated!”
It takes a full second before locals start whispering their shock.
The scholar continues, “He left his son to take his place.”
“At four years old? What kind of father would abandon his child?”
“What will this mean for the kingdom?”
“The high duke is regent until the boy’s old enough.”
“Can’t be worse than it was with the king.”
Quin sits stoically, expression hardened against the slander, a confident king who easily dismisses such trivialities. But at each hurled insult, I recall him exploding for the sake of his brother before his aunt Frederica; recall his pained roar to the heavens.
This is another act. The act of pretending not to care what others say of him.
