Page 209 of The Mercy of Dawn

Had to trust that he was the one person she could voice anything to.

So Cyril looked up at him, at those weary blue eyes, and asked, “Did Astor say how long Reyna has been sick for?”

Mikael’s brows pulled together.

“Many months, I think.” He sighed. “Astor was spotty on that, but it sounded like it’s been a really long time.”

Cyril nodded, slowly.

“And when…” Gods. The words just didn’t want to form. “Mika, promise me you won’t think of me any differently for asking this?”

His head tipped, and he squeezed her hand.

“Of course I won’t. What is it?”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“When did the murders start?” she said hoarsely.

“The murders?” Mikael blinked, and Cyril watched as something wholly uncomfortable crept into his body. “Cyril, what do you mean…”

His narrowed eyes and tense jaw made Cyril want to curl in on herself and disappear, but she couldn’t fold, not now. She drew on every fleeting strand of courage and said, “I think the timing might not be a coincidence, Mika.”

The disbelief Mikael stared at her with was sickening.

He shook his head slowly, his lips parted, but the infirmary doors creaked open before he could put whatever was in his mind into words. Mikael kept staring straight through her, but the sight of Runa hooked every ounce of Cyril’s attention.

Never, in all of Cyril’s months in Reykr, had the queen ever looked so normal. Her sweeping mane of gorgeous, copper waves? Tied up, and rather haphazardly at that. Her clothes? No robes, or embroidery, or exquisitely crafted brocade in sight. Just a pale gray tunic and dark, loose pants.

A woman thrown from her element and frazzled.

Runa’s attention fell to Mikael and Cyril. Her whole body heaved with a sigh.

“Gods, you two, I’m sorry. We can’t catch a damn break…” Runa’s tired eyes turned scrutinizing in a heartbeat. “My boy, you look pale. Maybe you should go get some rest. I know it’s easier said than—”

“Can we talk to you?” Mikael’s voice was hoarse, but he finally pulled his eyes away from Cyril and looked up at his mother. “Privately.”

Cyril took a slow breath.

This conversation was going to happen.

Runa glanced between the two of them before she nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”

Chapter 51

How many small offices and sitting rooms this damn palace had, Cyril couldn’t even fathom. But after a couple of twists and turns down from the infirmary doors, Runa led them into a room that looked like it hadn’t been touched in Cyril’s lifetime.

The queen willed an orb of faelight into existence, and none of them risked the worn wicker furniture. Mikael scrubbed his hands over his face from where he leaned against the wall. Cyril stood in the center of the room, her sweating palms clasped tightly together.

“I shouldn’t leave Astor for long,” Runa said, her eyes darting toward the door she’d just closed. A worried mother was breaking through her calm regality. “But what in the hells has the two of you looking like you saw something crawl out of the lake?”

“All you,” Mikael said, waving a hand at Cyril.

The fucking arse.

Runa turned all of her attention on Cyril, and her tongue suddenly felt like lead in her mouth. Her lips parted, but she had no words.

“Oh, sweetheart. Out with it, please. Whatever it—” Runa inhaled sharply and her eyes snapped back to her son. She hissed, “Mikael, did you get her—”