Page 116 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Or would you prefer I find you off-putting? Because I’m certain you aren’t looking for compliments.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

A smile tugged at Mikael’s lips, and she desperately wished he would stop doing that. Cyril was sure she had yet to find a smile so distracting.

“Because, Lady Cyril, you get flustered whenever anyone gives them to you. I’m also confident you are aware of how good you look tonight, and don’t need me telling you that.” His gaze and that stupid, knowing smirk lingered long enough to see Cyril’s eyes go wide. “Did I miss anything?”

Did Cyril get flustered by compliments? Absolutely.

She spent her entire life being taught to be wary of unsolicited praise and flattery, and what their bearer’s true intentions might be. Even when one of her uncles dished out something in good faith, she wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Just like she wasn’t equipped to deal with Mikael’s less-than-subtle compliment in any sort of dignified way.

She knew she looked nice, of course. Her dress was flattering, and a bit of makeup never hurt anyone. Even Dion’s nonchalant words of approval had told her she looked as much when they came down to the party.

But there was a certain amount of…ardor and interest in the way Mikael said she looked good, and her entire body reacted to it. Her breath came in an unsteady wave and she warmed from head to toe. Cyril felt the overwhelming urge to be closer to him, if that was even possible with his arm hugged flush to her body.

Was this when she was supposed to tell him he looked good too?

That he always seemed to look handsome in that wild and wicked way she found herself inexplicably drawn to? It didn’t matter if he dressed in his finery and badges, or if he was mostly disheveled tracking her down in the stables. With the surety and confidence—and just a touch of arrogance—in the way he carried himself, there wasn’t a chance the prince was ignorant of any bit of it.

There was also the very real possibility that all the damn lockmead had loosened Cyril up just a hair more than she’d expected, and her mind was running freer than it had any right to.

“This is you?” Mikael asked, an abrupt alert to the fact that they were stopped in front of her door. Cyril nodded. “Do you…need anything?”

Her attention bounced between Mikael, her door, and the grip she still had on his arm. She let go of him and took a step back.

“I—uh…no, I don’t.” She swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

Cyril’s attention hooked on Mikael’s glacial eyes and her mouth went dry. Something impulsive was clawing its way up her spine.

“Of course.” Mikael dipped his head in acknowledgment, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His sudden neutrality sent a wave of unease through Cyril.

“I mean it. Thank you…for walking with me. And for keeping me company.”

For being one of only four people who seemed interested in giving her the time of day. One of only four people who attempted to acknowledge her existence outside of necessity.

“And I…”

Oh, fuck it.

Cyril’s heart felt like it was going to burst straight out of her chest as she stepped into Mikael’s space and gripped his arm, using it as leverage to lift onto the toes of her boots.

She brushed her lips against his cheek and quietly said, “Thank you.”

Even though he schooled his face into nothing but casual curiosity as fast as lightning, Cyril caught the flicker of surprise that lit up his eyes like fine blue crystal as she eased back down.

And when his arm slipped around her waist, tugging her closer? Confidence surged through Cyril in wildly unhealthy measures.

“You are very welcome, Cyril,” Mikael said softly. His gaze roamed her face, from her eyes to her mouth and back, for what felt like forever, before he added, “Is that all you want from me?”

Cyril knew if she said yes, that would be it.

The prince didn't seem like the kind of person to take what wasn't willingly offered. Mikael would probably bid her goodnight and they’d have an awkward encounter in a day or two at dinner. Cyril could handle that, of course, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

So she met his gaze and shook her head, riding that wave of confidence.