Page 255 of The Mercy of Dawn

Walking out of her room that day gutted Mikael in a way he hadn’t been prepared for.

He knew Cyril would be well tended to with his mother and Wren, and every working member of the palace at her disposal. But Mikael also knew he hurt her when he left, and that still didn’t sit well with him. The needs of another were never a factor in his decisions before, so duties always came before all else.

That was going to have to change.

When he and Ari finally made it into the royal stables, silence greeted them. Not surprising given just how late—or early—it was, but the lack of conscious stable hands meant another delay.

“Just go,” Ari said as Mikael stared despondently at his saddle and travel bags. “I’ll deal with all this and dump your things in your office.”

Mikael cast him a sidelong glance.

“That hardly seems fair.”

Ari shrugged as he started working through the fastenings of his own saddle.

“If it means I don’t have to watch you pout anymore, I’d say it’s perfectly fair.”

“Pout?” Mikael stared at him. “I have not been—”

“Oh, you have,” Ari chuckled, “So get your ass moving and go see her. I’ll take care of this.”

That nagging pull was far too strong for Mikael to resist.

“I owe you, Ari, seriously,” he said, his feet pulling him halfway down the aisle.

Ari just waved him on and laughed, and Mikael took off running.

He ran from the stables, through the pathways, and straight into the palace. It felt like a wicked form of torture to run right past her room and into his own, but he had days’ worth of travel clinging to his skin that felt prudent to deal with.

His clothes clung to his still-damp skin when he was back at Cyril’s door, knocking with as much patience as he could muster.

The door swung open on his third attempt, his hand still midair.

“Hi, wrath,” he said.

Cyril’s dark, tired eyes went wide, and a long second of silence passed.

“You’re back,” she breathed, like she didn’t quite believe what she was seeing in front of her. The smile that bloomed on her face made his legs feel unsteady.

“I am.” He smiled at her as he leaned against the doorframe. “Can I come in, and can we please go to bed?”

That shook Cyril out of her half-asleep stupor.

She blinked, laughed a bit awkwardly, and stepped aside to let him in.

“Gods, it feels good to—”

The door had barely clicked shut behind Mikael when Cyril collided with him.

Her face nestled right into his chest and her arms wrapped around his midsection, squeezing him tightly. A remarkably emotional noise left her.

“I missed you, you arse,” she grumbled, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

And just like that, Mikael felt like he was finally home.

“I missed you too,” he whispered.

And for a while, they just stood there.