Page 106 of The Mercy of Dawn

How fucking embarrassing.

“No, I just got back, and I…needed a minute.”

“I see that.” Kaia’s appraising gaze swept from Cyril to her bag and back. She tipped her head. “Why aren’t you on the hunt?”

“What hunt?”

“The solstice hunt? Did you not—” Kaia pursed her lips. “Mikael said his mother invited you all to go with them.”

“I had no idea.” The disappointing likelihood of why she had no idea about this hunt had her anger stirring to life again. Still, Cyril asked, “When did it start?”

“Oh, they all left yesterday afternoon. The family and their fancy guests”—Kaia waved her hand flippantly, oblivious to the turmoil that coursed through Cyril—“hunt all the game that we’ll eat on solstice night. They won’t be back until the morning of. It’s a shame that you didn’t get to go. It’s quite a production with the camp they set up for the guests.”

Fucking Dion.

“Sounds like it.” Cyril didn’t bother to mask the disappointment in her voice, and Kaia’s smile was empathetic.

“Well, I’m late for my meeting now.” She inclined her head across the atrium to where Captain Ari leaned against the wall. He waved, but did not look pleased. “Don’t be a stranger! I know His Highness isn’t around for you to kick his ass again, but you’re welcome to come down to the barracks if you have some free time.”

As much as Cyril appreciated the sentiment, if she was going to spend time at the barracks, it would be solely to get under Dion’s skin. But she needed the arrogant prince to be there for that, and for…

Well, there were other reasons, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that little kernel of interest right at this moment.

“I appreciate that. Thanks Kaia.”

Kaia offered her a grin and a half-assed curtsy before she went to join Ari and the two of them slipped down a hall to the royal offices.

Three days until Summer Solstice.

Three days that Cyril had to focus on keeping herself busy, and then she could indulge in a bit of fun. It was a good thing the archives were well stocked, and she had no shortage of research to do on purist uprisings in Reykr.

Dion be damned. Cyril would make herself useful.

Chapter 26

Cyril finished pulling the laces closed on the front of her bodice and twirled half a step in front of the tall mirror in her bathroom.

Things went so much better when she dressed herself.

The evening of Summer Solstice had finally arrived, and she picked a tried-and-true ensemble brought right from Helia—a minty-green dress with a fitted bodice, flowing skirt, and sheer sleeves that ended at her wrists in gold-embroidered cuffs. Simple, easy to maneuver in, and most of all? Comfortable.

She kept her hair and makeup simple too.

A hint of kohl around her eyes, a dab of rouge on her cheekbones, and she left her hair down. It desperately needed a break from the tight braid it’d spent the last three days living in while she wasted away in the archives.

Just once more—for good measure, not because she was preening—she ran a brush through her hair, from the crown of her head straight down to her waist, before she ran out to meet Dion and Runa where they waited in the hall.

Cyril hadn’t even shut her door all the way when Runa swept over, crooning, “Oh, you look lovely, sweetheart.”

The queen looked nothing like the conservative, matronly woman Cyril had grown accustomed to seeing.

A short-sleeved robe of sheer, midnight blue fabric clung to every single one of Runa’s ample curves, dipping to a dangerously low point on her chest. Cyril wasn’t sure if the geometric tattoos climbing up her sternum or her overflowing cleavage were more distracting.

“Thank you,” she said, looking Runa directly in her silver-blue eyes. “You look lovely as well.”

More like a gods damned vixen, but Cyril wasn’t going there.

“I told you Cyril cleans up nicely on her own,” Dion joked from where he leaned against the wall, looking…the same as usual. Fitted black on fitted black. Clean shaven, at least, and looking like he slept a few hours in recent days.