Page 210 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Absolutely not.” Mikael threw his hands up in defense, shaking his head.

“How radical are the purists in the Forns?” Cyril asked, the words just tumbling out of her far too quickly.

Runa’s dry laugh had an undercurrent of relief to it.

“Gods. They’re about as bad as they come. Why?”

Cyril’s heart felt like it was about to beat right out of her fucking chest. But she looked at Mikael, and his single nod was all she needed.

“Let's just say…” She swallowed thickly. “If someone of great value to them fell ill, like a…princess. Would they resort to desperate measures to try and bring back balance? Would they deem anything necessary to tip the scales back, to cleanse whatever wrong they deem responsible?”

The next few seconds felt like some of the longest in Cyril’s life, but she saw the exact moment the terrifying realization skittered through Runa’s body.

The queen’s scrutinizing eyes went wide, and she breathed, “Good gods…”

Cyril could only nod.

“Where is Reyna right now?” Mikael asked quietly.

“I-I…” Runa blew out a shaky breath. “We don’t know. Astor was confused, thought she was here at first, then he said she was at their house in the city, but no one could find her.”

“Fucking hells,” Mikael sighed. “She’s gone crawling back to the Forn’s already. We’ll never track her down.”

“Can’t we send someone there for her?” Cyril asked. “I mean, her husband is lying in there—”

Runa shook her head.

“Not that simple, my dear. The Forn’s are heavily warded, and the only way in is by a boat across the harbor. And even then, we will be turned away at the docks. They do not want outsiders in their lands.”

“Outsiders in their lands?” Cyril scoffed. She had little control over how her voice raised as she bit out, “Who gives a fuck about what they want? They are killing innocent people in the name of their bullshit beliefs! They fucking killed B—”

Runa stepped forward and grabbed the hand Cyril started waving in the air.

“Lower your voice now,” Runa whispered harshly. “If there is any chance that we are wrong, these sorts of accusations would spell disaster. There are eyes and ears loyal to the Forn’s all over the damn palace, and we cannot risk anything right now.”

Cyril took a slow, shaky breath.

“So what do we do?” she asked, and Runa turned her attention to Mikael.

“I hate to ask any more of you…”

“Our resources are already stretched so thin.” He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes before he raked his hands through his hair. “I’ll have to see if some of the boys working in the city can pull a few days of double duty, see if they can get a pulse on anything from the docks.”

Runa reached out to rub his arm. “Discretion, please, until we have something more than a bad feeling. We can’t afford to cause any sort of panic right now.”

“Of course,” Mikael sighed as he nodded.

“Your father is going to need your help too, you know, while Astor recovers…”

Whatever else Runa said to Mikael, something or other about lords and dinners, Cyril didn’t quite catch.

She couldn’t get Reyna’s face out of her mind. Her soft voice, her kind smile.

Bron was dead because of the purist princess, and Cyril wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to forgive herself for that. Cyril had shared meals with this woman. Held conversations with her, if only briefly. How many times had Cyril looked her right in the eyes and not thought twice about the quiet way Reyna observed everything around her?

Maybe Cyril was just desperate for someone to blame. Maybe she was drawing wildly out-of-place connections. But she was confident Reyna destroyed everything she ever loved and ripped the one pillar of strength and stability from her life.

A quiet noise left Mikael that sounded awfully like defeat, and Cyril blinked over at the prince and his mother.