Page 34 of The Mercy of Dawn

“Which was…”

“That her parents are dead and that she is an unremarkable person.”

“Mikael,” his mother hissed. Her chair scraped on the stone tile as she pushed it back and started pacing. “What in the hells compelled you to do that?!”

“The woman is abrasive and rude.”

“Good gods, so are you!” She set a hand on her hip and pinched her brow. A groan of exasperation left her. “Gods forbid a woman doesn’t throw herself at you the moment she meets you…”

Now it was Mikael's turn to stand.

He gripped the back of his chair with one hand and pointed the other back inside. “So that miserable woman gets to show up and be rude in our home, but I’m the one—”

Runa set her hand over his and lowered it.

“Be patient with her, Mika,” she said in a soft, near pleading tone, that biting edge nowhere to be found. “Cyril is far from home and has had an…unusual upbringing. I…I think she could use a friend.”

Mikael barked a laugh.

“You cannot be serious…”

“I am.” The look she leveled at him spoke volumes to the truth of that. “In fact, the training of the new guard starts soon, doesn’t it? Invite her to join you for some of it.”

This had to be a joke.

“My last statement stands. She”—he gestured vaguely inside again—“does not belong anywhere near the training grounds.”

“An entire guild of rogues raised her, Mikael. There is nowhere better for her to be than there. And I don’t care if Ezra’s briefing said she was unremarkable. I think you’ll find she is anything but.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. Arguing with his mother was always so fucking fruitless.

“Would you prefer I run it by your father first, get his thoughts on the matter?”

Not a question, but a threat under a thin veil.

Lars rarely gave two shits about what Mikael did, or about his existence at all, unless word made it back to his father that he had done something unfavorable. Then there was some sort of fresh hell to pay.

“No, gods, please do not,” Mikael groaned.

He walked over towards the terrace’s edge, running his hands on the polished moonstone cap of the railing. He just needed a second to think, and the cool night air was settling.

His mother followed a few moments behind him. “Well?”

He eyed her reluctantly.

“It’s not like I have a choice, do I?”

Her silence served as confirmation.

“Against my better judgment, I’ll invite her. But if you expect me to go knocking on her door now...” Mikael did not need a repeat of tonight anytime soon.

“No, no. Give her a few days to settle in and find her feet here.” Runa smiled up at him, rubbing his arm. “Thank you, my boy.”

“…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

Mikael hesitated—he had to tread lightly here. Careful words.