Page 124 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Are we sharing, or did you bring all of that just for me?” Cyril asked, maybe a bit hopefully on the latter, as she wrapped up in a blanket and settled down on one end of the sofa.

“All for you, I already ate.” Mikael took the other end of the couch, leaving an entire cushion between them. Maybe for the best. “I thought you might be hungry since you missed dinner.”

Gods, was she ever.

Cyril wasted no time plucking the bowl and fork from the table and digging in. The berries were fresh and tart, the cream light and sweet, and Cyril was a happy woman.

The prince slid one amused glance her way as he preoccupied himself with his tea.

“Who told you that cake is my favorite?” she asked, halfway through inhaling the plate. Manners be damned, it was delicious. She could probably live off of some combination of this and those meat pastries from Brynnhold.

“Dion did. Well, not directly. That would involve interacting with me, and that he does not seem keen on doing.” Mikael laughed dryly and shook his head.

Not surprising to hear, given the less than lovely things Bron informed her that Dion said about Mikael, but still disappointing. She would’ve apologized on his behalf if she hadn’t just shoveled another piece of cake into her mouth.

“But I heard him tell my mother how pissed you’d be if you found out you missed it, and she said, ah…”

Mikael trailed off and occupied his mouth with his tea.

He wore a hint of a grimace when he looked over at her and a knot formed in her stomach. If there was something questionable about the damn food and he was waiting until now to tell her? Fucking hells.

Cyril looked down at her now empty bowl, setting it cautiously back on the table as she asked, “She said what?”

“Ah, well, apparently it was your mother’s favorite as well? She was ecstatic about that. A little emotional too. But that might’ve been all the wine she drank with dinner.”

Oh.

Cyril wanted to laugh at his level of caution. Appreciated, but unnecessary.

“Well, your mother would know. I think they were quite good friends.” Cyril took a sip of her tea and cradled the mug in her hands. She smiled at Mikael as she said, “You don’t have to dance around the subject.”

He raised a brow at her and playfully said, “But you know firsthand now just how good I am at dancing.”

Cyril did not miss a beat.

“Mediocre, at best. You stepped on my toes twice.”

A flicker of surprise lit up his eyes and a warm rumble of laughter left him. It was a sound she was enjoying more and more. Among a couple of others that he made the night before that she was cursing her brain for surfacing.

Her cheeks warmed, and she forced words out of her mouth.

“Did everyone else make it to dinner?”

“My parents and Dion, all in pretty rough shape. Astor and Reyna are gone again though.”

Cyril blinked.

“Were they at the party?”

She couldn’t remember seeing the crown prince or princess at any point during the festivities, but much of the evening had a lockmead-induced haze hanging over it.

Mikael shook his head and sighed.

“No, they left a day or two before. Apparently, all the shit in the city spooked Reyna again.”

“Do they—” Cyril chewed her lip. “It’s probably not my place to ask…”

“Are they usually gone this much?”