Page 11 of The King’s Man #5

M egaera catches me at the gate and hauls me back by my cloak.

I try to rip out of her hold, but even without magic, she’s deft, and fights like she’s in a dance.

“Let me go, Megaera. Why are you stopping me?”

Her eyes flash, pain flickering behind them. “Because I didn’t stop myself before,” she murmurs, almost too softly to hear.

The words halt me for a moment.

“You’re putting on a risky act, Cael.” Her tone shifts, tightens. “I won’t let you get hurt. I owe you that.”

And if it isn’t enough she’s got hold of me, Lykos flies to her aid and bars the gate, spear in hand. I glare at him.

“What?” I snap, throwing my words like daggers. “Going to destroy more than my meridians this time?”

He flinches, but doesn’t move.

I whirl to Megaera, her grip on my cloak like iron. “Should it be her death then? Should my aunt pay for my mistake? ”

Her eyes darken, her jaw tightens. “I am not a good person,” she whispers, her voice breaking before it sharpens again. “But I will not let you die.” She glances at Lykos.

Locked in the woodshed, the hours drag like weights on my chest. I can’t stop picturing my aunt in that hall, ringing the bell to meet the king in my place. Prins Lief will be there, fighting for her, but how far can he go against his own father?

I whimper, “My mistake—my lie—will cost more than just my life.”

Megaera opens the door as if she’s been listening on the other side the whole time. Her face is pale but set. “Your lie also saved us.”

“Then help me,” I plead, my voice barely above a whisper. “Help me.”

The courtyard doors burst open and men march in, their voices cutting through the quiet like blades. “You are summoned to the castle.”

Megaera steps aside, her gaze lingering on me as I walk away, each step heavier than the last.

The castle looms ahead, its stone walls veined with runes that seem to pulse under the flickering torchlight.

Each step inside feels like stepping into the stories carved on the walls—stories of gods, kings, and battles fought in shadows.

My breath catches as I enter the grand hall, the fragrant snowendar curling in the air, lulling me with its false warmth.

At the far end, King Yngvarr sits draped in furs and gold, his fingers drumming a sharp rhythm on the arm of his throne. Prins Lief kneels at his feet, his posture rigid, while my aunt bows deeply beside him.

“Rise.”

Prins Lief casts me a commanding look as we stand, while my aunt grimaces and shakes her head. She doesn’t want me to admit I’m the one...

Which means, which has to mean, she hasn’t had the opportunity to lie yet.

The king stares at his son. “The one you requested came. Now explain why you stopped this woman ringing the bell?”

He narrows his eyes on my aunt. “Any bell-ringer without a reasonable cause will be imprisoned for one hundred days.”

My aunt shifts and I can feel her about to speak—

“Forgive me,” I say dropping to my knees at the same time Prins Lief steps closer to my aunt and holds her sleeve tight. “I asked her to ring on my behalf.”

My aunt snaps her gaze my way, while the king pins his glare on me. “On your behalf?”

“Please do not misunderstand, I had more important things to do than wait for your arrival.”

Air whistles sharply as nearby guards suck in their breaths.

King Yngvarr speaks softly, but each word feels dangerous. “My presence is beckoned, yet not deemed a priority?”

I bow again. “I, Haldr, was instructed by the goddess to make healing my priority, always. ”

I wait a tense moment while he digests this.

He laughs abruptly, and with great cheer tells me to get up. To his son, he beams. “I understand. You stopped her from ringing because there was no need to seek my audience. I have been awaiting this meeting.”

Prins Lief inclines his head. His knuckles on my aunt’s sleeve are white and strained.

King Yngvarr’s gaze on me is quiet, long, assessing. “You stopped the spread of poxies. You are deserving of reward. I’ll have statues built. You’ll live in fame and luxury.”

“I wish for neither.”

“Neither? You must want something. If not riches...”

“You see through me.” I bow again. “I do have one wish.”

“By all means; you’ve earned it.”

Prins Lief looks my way, face pinched in warning.

I feel his plea, but I’m desperate. “I wish to free a prisoner.”

Prins Lief slams his eyes shut, while the king leans back on his throne. “Saving someone? Nothing else?”

“I’d give up any reward for this.”

Curiosity has the king leaning forward again. “Name.”

“Constantinos Quintus Aetherion.”

The following silence is deathly, but I lift my head and meet the king’s rapidly darkening eyes. There’s a storm brewing in their depths and I brace for the first lash. I can feel Prins Lief’s gaze boring through me too, telling me I’m insane, why ever would I ask for this ?

But I can’t miss a chance—any chance, no matter how slim—to free him.

“Who is he to you?” It falls like scentless poison.

“I’ve been in charge of healing him.”

“ He was more important than ringing my bell personally?”

My aunt stiffens, and Prins Lief steps forward. “Father, he did so on my command—”

“Silence. I want to hear what Haldr has to say.”

“He is weak. He has no power, is hunted in his own land—”

“Sounds like he takes after his father. Manipulating others to do his will.”

“He’s truly pathetic. Releasing him wouldn’t harm your people—”

“I’d prefer the humiliation of his head paraded through the kingdom!”

I’m squeezing my cloak. “His throne has been usurped. Is that not embarrassing enough?”

“I want all of Lumin mortified!”

“I will provide a better way!” It’s an instinctive, volatile retort with no plan behind it except to promise something, anything .

It startles him, and he bangs a fist on his throne. “This is how you speak to a king?”

I’m still running on a temper, and fear. “I’m more scathing with him!”

He doesn’t expect this. He laughs, not sure if he’s offended or impressed .

“He’s stupid.” I pause. “Quite possibly the stupidest king to have lived.”

Booms of laughter echo around the hall and eternal flame torches flicker.

A ruckus at the door as the King’s attention turning sharply to it.

Two Skeldar soldiers make their presence known and come up the hall dragging a third person, dressed in serving robes. The soldiers deposit him on his knees. “Your majesty. A Lumin spy.”

The man spits on the ground and raises his head defiantly. “Took you six months,” he says on an obnoxious laugh.

King Yngvarr stiffens and stretches a hand towards Prins Lief, who steps forward and helps him rise. With a hardened face, the king strides with anger and purpose towards the spy.

“My regent learned enough!”

The king grabs the hilt at the hip of the nearest soldier, drags out the sword, and in one swing slices the spy’s throat.

My stomach feels like a boulder crashing to the floor and I barely hold myself from shaking.

King Yngvarr whirls towards us, blood dripping from the sword. “You,” he bellows to me, “you’ll return tomorrow morning. I haven’t finished with you yet.” He gestures for his soldiers to drag the body away. “I want to see his head on a pike!”

I keep up my frustrated pace until we reach the middle of the grand ice-and-stone bridge.

My aunt is a few paces behind me, and her gaze is tight on my nape.

A glittering frozen waterfall clings to the icy cliffs beside us.

It feels like it could tumble down and crush us, but I wonder if there’d be anything but bones left to crush.

I whirl around to my aunt. “ That ’s why you claimed I’d be alright? You were planning to sacrifice yourself? Have your head cut off too?”

She looks straight at me without the slightest hesitation. “You’re my responsibility.”

“ It’s my mistake. It’s mine .” My words echo off the deep blues in the ice, coming back crystal sharp. If the king discovers my deception, I will pay.

I tuck my shaking hands behind my back and clasp them, nails digging into my skin.

“What about your life? Your happiness?”

My aunt speaks softly. “You’re family. You give up everything for family.”

Our heated breaths are cloudy and the chill from the ice creeps up my legs. My aunt holds her chin high, adamant she’s right, and I shiver, because I don’t want her to be. She can’t be .

“We shouldn’t sacrifice our happiness for family,” I choke out.

But we do.

He does too.

Over her shoulder, Prins Lief is striding towards us in a cloud of anger as strong as my own.

I turn sharply and stride off on wobbly knees; I’m in the town square when I’m hauled around by the shoulder to Prins Lief’s glower.

“You’re impetuous. You lack patience. You’re lucky it wasn’t your head just now. ”

I swallow hard.

He continues, “How will you survive if you can’t keep your feelings in check?”

“Why are you warning me?”

He stiffens.

“You’re doing it for her. You dropped everything and rushed to her side.”

For a moment, his gaze softens, and the weight he carries becomes visible. “I made her a promise. I’ll see it through.” He plucks a pouch from his belt and stuffs it into my hands, holding it tight there. “These are my some of my father’s memories.”

I suck in a breath. This dromveske doesn’t feel as bulky as the one from the Skeldar ship. This is smaller, more elegant—deep green with the finest stitching. A small handful of pebbles shift inside. “I thought these were gifts between lovers? For pleasant dreams?”

“For most, they’re to share your partner’s intimate moments. To relive the evolution of their feelings. ”

I lift King Yngvarr’s dromveske. “Is this—”

“Dromveskes also trap memories. Inside this are those my father cannot forget. Those he enters far too often.”

My voice becomes hoarse. “Why are you giving them to me?”

“So you understand what you’ve become involved in by mentioning your captive king. To figure out a way to survive tomorrow’s meeting with mine.”

“Won’t he realise this is missing?”

“I’m hosting a welcome feast for him tonight. I’ll be sure he’s too drunk to notice.”

“What do I do?”

“Chalk the runes. Sleep next to them. Return the dromveske to the ice bridge, first light of dawn.”

He removes his hand from the pouch and I clutch it tightly.

“Some of his feelings are volatile,” Prins Lief says. “Force your way out of them.”

I step away, not sure I understand what this means, but he’d do anything to keep my aunt alive; he’d help me to keep her happy. These memories must be important.

“Go to him . He’ll help you.”

I double my grip on the dromveske.

He pauses and adds, “Find a way to stay alive.”