Page 68 of The Mercy of Dawn

She stood and leaned back against the wall.

Mikael was silent as he came to a stop beside her, hands clasped behind his back like usual, his entire body drawn into a tight line. It was like she wasn’t even there, with how his attention never left the trainees.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Cyril drawled, turning her own eyes back across the arena.

He sighed.

“If I came off as rude earlier, I apologize.” Mikael’s tone was forced, as if apologizing was the least natural thing he’d ever done. “These early days of training are crucial to the long-term success of our recruits, and I have immensely high expectations of my guards during it.”

That much was obvious.

“I can see that,” was all Cyril mustered back.

There wasn’t a fucking chance she would give him the satisfaction of knowing she appreciated the apology, and the way he turned his attention to her sent any budding sarcastic remark she had skittering.

Cyril forced herself to look back out to all the training pairs, working their way through flows and moves. A few were wrapping up, limping, and hobbling back into the barracks.

“I was also informed,” he continued a bit more quietly, despite Cyril being certain their conversation should have been over, “that you are under the impression that I hate you?”

His words hung.

Cyril barely knew Kaia, but she was going to fucking strangle the woman after this.

Mikael sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“Is there a reason I should think otherwise?”

“It’s hard to hate someone I know so little about.” From her periphery, he shrugged. “Are you difficult to talk to? Yes. Are you abrasive? Incredibly. But I do not know you well enough to hate you.”

“But you know enough to think I’m, oh, what was it…” Cyril tapped a finger on her lip. “Unremarkable?”

She shouldn't have said anything at all. Just took his entirely forced apology and left. But if he already thought she was abrasive…

“Ah.” He nodded slowly, mouth drawn into a tight line. “Well, in the future, I’ll be explicitly clear about the difference between an intelligence briefing and my personal opinions. It may come as a surprise to you, Lady Cyril, but they are not the same.”

Enough of the guards were in earshot now, making their way over after sending the rest of their trainees in for the day, that Cyril decided to not indulge him with another response.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” he asked, like they’d just been talking about the weather.

“It depends.” Her voice was quiet as she rocked back and forth on her heels, the picture of casual ease. Kaia smiled and waved as she made her approach with a few others. Cyril waved back with a smile as she muttered, “If I’m just going to be forced to sit on the sidelines again, I’m better off trying to spend the day with Dion and the others.”

Cyril looked up at Mikael just in time to see the corner of his lip quirk.

Then, just loud enough for the others to hear, she added, “I’m happy to come back tomorrow, and for the rest of the week, if you’ll let me take part in all the activities.”

A sigh and sidelong glance told her the prince was fully aware of what Cyril was playing at.

“Come on, boss!” Kaia pleaded, hands clasped in front of her. “We never have enough women around, and capable ones at that. You know…” She tapped her cheek. “I think she might even give you a run for your money if it came down to it.”

The frustration that settled into Mikael’s features brought no small amount of amusement to Cyril. Like he, too, knew that Kaia was entirely correct.

“This isn’t a group decision, Gatlin. I will be the one who—”

“Kaia has a point on both fronts,” Ari mused from where he leaned against the wall.

Gunner nodded alongside him. “I’d pay good money to see the two of you spar, I’m sure it’d be a hell of a show.”

Mikael clenched his jaw, just the living and breathing embodiment of exasperation, but Cyril cut in before he had a chance to say anything.