Page 67 of The Mercy of Dawn

She needed a few minutes to herself, even if it was nearly impossible to collect her thoughts with the way her ears rang. Laughter and yelling and the clattering of tableware filled the air all around her, ebbing and flowing in cresting waves of volume.

If Cyril hadn’t been worried about it coming off as rude, she would have eaten outside. Having all her meals alone recently left her a little sensitive to distractions, never mind forty-odd living and breathing ones.

Mikael definitely hadn't helped either.

And she still couldn’t place where his overwhelming hate for her stemmed from. Sure, they hadn't gotten off on the right foot, but...

Just a show of dominance, maybe?

But that seemed wholly unnecessary.

Cyril had thought they made a bit of progress when he walked her to her room the other night, with that half-cordial conversation they had.

Apparently, she was wrong.

There was something about these authoritative men she’d never—

“Too good to sit with the rabble, hey?”

Cyril gave a start and grazed her knee on the underside of the table. She cursed quietly as Kaia sat down beside her, leaning back against the table.

“Sorry.” She gave Cyril a wry grin. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright.” Cyril slid her bowl aside and tossed Kaia a sidelong glance. “And no, nothing like that. I usually eat on my own, and besides—”

She glanced over to where Mikael and the rest of the King's Guard were still sitting. Not high on the list of places she wanted to spend her time.

Kaia nodded.

“I understand completely.” She rolled her shoulders and settled back on her elbows. “The rest of the afternoon will be hand-to-hand practice, but don’t feel obligated to stay if you’ve got more important things to do.”

Cyril blinked.

That felt like a thinly fucking veiled dismissal if she’d ever heard one.

“If I’m not welcome anymore, you can just say—”

“No! No, no.” Kaia shook her head and sighed. She shot a glance back at the guards’ table. “It’s just that… Well, the boss doesn’t think it’s a good idea for you to take part in these sorts of drills, you know”—she waved her arms around—“distraction and novelty, and all that. But you’re welcome to stay and watch if you want. Just might not be the most interesting afternoon you’ve ever had.”

So the asshole was trying to get rid of her now.

Cyril insulted his fragile, pathetic masculinity, and now he thought he could just push her out of the way. Fuck that.

“Oh, I’m happy to just stick around and watch.”

Cyril looked at Kaia and grinned.

The wicked approval that crept across Kaia’s face in response was enough to carry her through the next couple of hours of sitting on a rickety and worn bench in the barrack’s arena.

Chapter 17

Her ass tingled with pinpricks and the ache of that morning’s run had settled fully into her legs, but Cyril watched, and watched, and watched as the guards worked their recruits through hand-to-hand drills.

Grappling and disarming. Where to and not to punch. How to pin and hold.

All afternoon, the entire arena echoed with shouts of profanities and laughter, and Cyril would be lying if she said she wasn’t pissed this was where Mikael drew the line for her. From spending all of her time training with men much larger than her in Helia, she had developed a useful set of skills. Ones that she would have enjoyed being able to impart to a few of the female recruits.

From her periphery, she saw the arrogant prick of a prince make his way along the edge of the arena. Coming to tell her to leave, no doubt, and maybe to never come back.