Page 25 of The King's Man 3
But there is a tired, hurting man underneath.I leap to my feet. “Slander.”
Heads swing my way, and someone calls. “What’s he done for you that you defend him?”
“He . . .” I glower at them. “You’re wrong.”
“The last earthshake released a poisonous miasma through the forest. That area was the livelihood of at least six towns from Kastoria to Hinsard. People are struggling, and the king did nothing.”
An older man thumps the table in vicious agreement.
“Even the caves we mine for fungi have been affected. Our most valuable herbs are found there, but—if we don’t die first—each step inside is like fireants tearing through your body. Death is better.”
“And death is what we’re getting.”
“The king didn’t help. We can only hope the regent will.”
I meet Quin’s dark eyes. He subtly shakes his head.
Frustration clenches my fists. I want to shout, to make them see—“The king wants the best for you.”
They laugh darkly.
The loud scholar speaks up again, “The regent has redcloaks travelling to all corners of the kingdom plastering the way with wanted posters. The first time his face is revealed to the public.” He shakes his head. “What a way to garner fame.”
“What do you mean, wanted posters?” I ask.The regent already has control over the throne.
“There’s a reward for finding him.”
“Ha! Both vespertines and crusaders will be after him. He won’t have long.”
My stomach twists sharply. “You—”
Quin picks up his cane and crosses between me and them. “Enough. Let’s go.”
He jostles me up to our room, and as soon as the door closes, I drag him to sit. “Didn’t it bother you, what they said?”
Quin pulls away from a brow-crunching thought. “Youused to despise me like that.”
“I . . . but . . .” I throw my hands up. “I didn’t know better!”
Mild amusement sparkles in his eyes. “You were so fervent in your hatred. Passionate.”
I bury my face in my hands. “Anytime I think of what I said, what Ididback then...” I drop my hands, meeting Quin’s gaze with a pained scowl. “If you’d told me who you were from the start, you wouldn’t have heard those things.”
“You’d have simply thought them instead.”
“Exactly.”
Quin flicks the side of my head and I rub it as if it hurts.
I sigh. “Listening to them made me feel frustrated. And ashamed. Theyareme, only half a year ago.”
“Three months ago.”
“You’re not helping.”
Quin tilts my chin and holds it as he observes me. “You asked me earlier why I didn’t want you to go to that island.” His expression is a mix of earnestness and bitterness. “Shame.”
I frown, and his fingers glide off my chin.
