Page 176 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Mikael, get the fuck out.” Cyril’s voice shook, and Mikael knew he had fucked up in such an immeasurable way. All this time spent earning her trust, making her feel wanted and important, and he squandered it with a couple of poorly thought-out words.

She looked moments away from violence.

“Alright.” Mikael nodded slowly and made his way to the door. Nothing productive would come of pushing this any further, not with her so consumed by her anger. They needed space, and a lot of it. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

And he left.

The pained sob that traveled through the closed door hit Mikael like a physical blow. He took a slow breath and mustered up every bit of resolve he had to walk away.

He needed a fucking drink.

Chapter 43

Cyril didn’t know what force of nature pulled her out of bed.

Guilt, maybe, that it was at least three or four days since she last took Attie for a ride. She knew the stables would see all her base needs well tended to, but they certainly didn’t have time to run every horse every day. And it didn’t feel right for the poor animal to suffer just because Cyril’s life had come apart in every way possible.

That was a trail of thought she tried not to dwell on as she bathed and dressed, making a half-assed attempt at making herself presentable.

Her eyes were still sore from just how much time she’d spent dwelling on miserable things since Mikael became the last in a long line of people to rip her fucking heart out.

The guards manning the residential wing door gave her the same sad, pitying smile as all the various housekeepers who came by her room. It was hard to not tell every single one of them to fuck right off with their pity, but a scant bit of manners felt like the only bit of sanity Cyril had left in her.

She mustered up a smile, waved back to the two guards, and trekked down the main stairs.

After breathing in nothing but the stale linens of her bed for days, the light waft of flowers and fresh air that swept up the staircase was almost overwhelming.

Not unpleasant, but it was stark.

For early afternoon, the atrium hummed with far more activity than usual. It didn’t look like it was busy for a good reason either. Not with the masses of guards standing about and the tension hanging in the air between them.

Not Cyril’s problem.

Or at least that’s what she tried telling herself until she noticed the density of guards and tired faces increased tenfold towards the archives and its wide-open doors. She’d never seen the doors left open like that before, or that volume of people moving in and out of the archives for that matter.

Cyril was halfway there before she realized it.

She wove through guards and lords and chittering courtiers, keeping her head down. There was a long list of people she did not want to see or risk making eye contact with. Kaia hadn’t been a factor on that list, but that didn’t stop Cyril’s eyes from going wide when the guardswoman stepped in front of her.

“Hey, stranger.” Kaia’s smile looked tentative at best, but her hazel eyes were appraising enough that Cyril felt uncomfortable.

A stranger, indeed.

It had been, what, a month?

An entire damn month since…

Since…

Cyril clenched her hands at her sides as she said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I just…”

Kaia’s expression softened, and she shook her head.

“Don’t apologize. We were all at the pyre, and Mika said you haven’t been feeling great since then, understandably.”

Mikael didn’t understand the fucking half of it.

“It’s been…hard.” Cyril didn’t know what the fuck else to say, but she desperately needed to change the topic. “Did something happen in the archives?”