“This is what you asked for!” I remind him as we hastily wipe our hands on our pants.
“True,” he sighs. Glancing sideways at me, he adds, “It’s good tosee you like this. Happy again.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I believe I have a certain stubborn redhead to thank for that?”
My lips twitch upward. “Maybe.”
He’s right. One mention of Meredy, and I’m already thinking about the next time I’ll get to see her. The smile is because I know how good it feels just being around her.
The morning breeze ruffles my hair as Simeon and I lapse into an easy silence. I rest my head on his shoulder, watching a rainbow of fish scurry around the pond near our feet. If only the peaceful morning could make me forget the rebellion brewing in the city.
Simeon hums something, a catchy tune, so soft at first that I almost miss it over the breeze rattling branches overhead. After a moment, he adds words to the melody under his breath:
“Should’ve stuck to dancing
And combing his hair
All the ladies used to find him quite fair
Our king for a day.”
I blink at him as I try to process what I’m hearing. There’s a song about Hadrien already? It’s catchy, like one of Kasmira’s sea chanteys, the kind sailors howl in off-key voices when they’ve ventured too deep into their pints, though Simeon can actually carry a decent tune.
Seemingly oblivious to my incredulous stare, he continues to sing:
“He had a silver tongue
And a golden spoon
He gave us death when he promised the moon
Our bloody king for a day.”
Someone sniggers under their breath. I glance sharply in the direction of the sound, toward the glass courtyard doors. The tall, broad-shouldered boy leaning against them—Karston, the one who fought with Jax—covers his mouth with his hands in a poor attempt to stifle his laughter. The cut beneath his left eye seems shallower now that he’s washed the blood away. There’s another cut on his slightly crooked nose, though it looks older—perhaps a scar. He’s brushed the carpet fuzz and dust from his close-cropped dark hair, too, I see. The sight of his simple black necromancer’s uniform makes me miss Evander in a swift, painful rush, the strongest one I’ve had in days.
Karston doesn’t seem to notice me staring, all his attention on Simeon’s song. I focus on my friend’s voice again as another verse begins:
“With a head far too big
To fit in his crown
He—”
The rich sound of laughter gets louder, drowning out the words. Simeon falls silent. A faint flush creeps into his face as he takes note of his growing audience.
“Forgive me, Master Simeon,” Karston says, squaring his shoulders and moving toward our bench with long, purposeful strides. “But after what happened with Master Jax in there, I needed a laugh. I came out here to get some air, and heard—” Swallowing another bout of laughter, he grins and shakes his head. “Sorry. Again. What’s that song called? It’s brilliant.”
Simeon’s face and neck glow red as he answers, “‘King for a Day.’”
“It’s great. I’m surprised I haven’t heard it before.”
“You couldn’t have.” In almost a whisper, Simeon confesses, “I made it up.”
Karston gives a low whistle, impressed.
“Forget teaching. I think you have a future as a bard,” I add, mustering a smile to show Simeon how much I enjoyed the melody despite the reminder of Hadrien. “Have you thought of writing Danial a song for—?”
“Whoa!” Karston’s yelp of surprise cuts across me. He blinks a few times, and when he speaks again, it’s with a hint of a slight drawl whose province of origin I can’t place. “You’re her. Sparrow. The king-slayer!”
I wince at that name and hastily roll my sleeve down to my wrist. “Please, don’t call me that.” I wish I could sink to the bottom of the fish pond here and now.
