Page 205 of The Mercy of Dawn

Mikael’s shoulders sagged, and he nodded.

“At the temple near the harbor, someone found them this morning. A priestess and a midwife. It’s…I mean, it’s fucked up beyond belief. They helped destitute women, ones that came stowed on ships from the mortal lands wanting better lives for their unborn children.”

“That’s awful…” Cyril said quietly.

More good people, more senseless deaths.

She was certain she should have felt something, anything, but her heart didn’t feel like it even beat enough for herself anymore.

“It is. And the temple, it’s…” Mikael rubbed his hands over his face again and blew out a slow breath. “None of that is for you to worry about, other than to please be mindful. We—”

“We need your help,” Kaia cut in, giving Cyril a rueful smile.

Mikael stared at Kaia and shook his head before he looked back at Cyril.

“Not in the city or anything like that, so don’t worry,” Mikael said, because he must have known what sort of tension was already creeping its way back into Cyril. “We need help here. Most of the King's Guard is being dispatched to the city on top of the royal contingents because it’s a fucking mess. But there just isn’t enough space at the city station, so everyone will be rotating through here. So…” His smile was half-assed at best. He looked as drained as she felt. “I need help here. Servicing weapons, keeping supplies stocked, directing traffic, and the like. I know it’s not glamorous, but—”

Not glamorous.

Cyril was certain he’d said those same words to her in some fever dream of a different life.

“Of course I can help,” she said. “Back home, I used to…”

It stung, just saying that, but a little sigh of relief swept through the room.

Gods, Cyril could do those kinds of tasks with her damn eyes closed. It felt like an eternity ago now, but she was useful once, playing her part in running a thriving, bustling place.

“I know.” Mikael nodded. The softness in his eyes carried words she was glad he didn’t say.

Kaia didn’t let her linger on that for long. She tapped Cyril’s leg with her foot, wearing the most pleading grin as she said, “You, uh, have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? We have so many travel packs to put together.”

“No plans, no.” Cyril forced a smile, and it felt tight, foreign. “I’m all yours.”

“Fuckin’ right you are.” Kaia grinned. “I knew we could count on you.”

“She means thank you,” Ari sighed and started steering Kaia out the door. “We very much appreciate the help. Everything is set up downstairs, so come join us whenever.”

Cyril went to follow them out, but only made it a few steps before Mikael hooked her around the waist and hauled her back. He tipped her chin up and chuckled when Kaia made the quiet gagging noise she seemed fond of making whenever Mikael got affectionate with Cyril.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“No.” Cyril winced. “I…I haven’t been up long. But it’s fine, I don’t need—”

“I’ll go fix her up something,” Ari called out from the doorway. “Just head to the assembly room with Kaia, and I’ll bring it down to you.”

Cyril turned to thank him, but only caught his back as he disappeared down the hall. Kaia stood in the doorway, watching the two of them with a raised brow.

“Thank you,” Cyril said as she turned back to face Mikael, and he tipped his head curiously. As if he didn’t understand why she would thank him.

“Thank me? Gods, no, thank you.” He clasped her face and kissed her forehead, then her lips. Kaia gagged again from the door. “You are a remarkably useful person to have around, I hope you know. And…” He leaned in, brushing his lips to her ear, and he whispered, “I’ll probably be stuck in here all day if you want to come by when you’re done. Just you.”

For as tired as his eyes seemed, just a hint of mischief flickered in them.

“See you then, Commander.” She smiled at him, probably more freely than she had in a while, and followed Kaia down the hall.

“You two are disgusting,” Kaia chuckled to her.

That haughty solo visit to Mikael’s office never ended up happening. Midnight had long passed when they finished the last of the packs to send out with the guard at first light, and Cyril only had a foggy memory of actually leaving the barracks afterwards.