Page 141 of The Mercy of Dawn

The archive doors had creaked open a moment ago, but Cyril hadn’t bothered to look up from where she had her forehead rested on her fingertips, staring down at her half-legible notes.

“What— Oh! Your Highness.”

Isa’s squeak of surprise had her eyes darting up though.

Mikael.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here for Lady Cyril.”

He flashed Isa a polite smile as he strode straight down the row of desks, and Cyril thought the poor woman might blow right over. If only the scribe knew he was a prickly, insufferable arse beneath the uniform that he had no business looking that good in.

Cyril leveled the prince with a flat, unimpressed stare as she rose and tried to shuffle some order into her papers.

“None of that lady shit in here,” she said, and a half a smile tugged at her lips. “I’m surprised the wards even let you in.”

Mikael huffed a dry laugh.

“That makes two of us. I was worried I was going to have to knock.”

“Oh, but that would have been—”

It was Cyril’s turn to squeak as Mikael came to stand flush behind her, caging her against the table. He pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck as he leaned over to peer at the books and parchment spread out in front of her.

So much for discretion.

Isa was still planted at the end of the row she emerged from, staring wide-eyed at the two of them. She looked…happy. Maybe? Cyril wasn’t sure.

“Mikael,” Cyril hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Well, Cyril,” he said softly, “when two people are attracted to each other, they tend to display this thing called affection, and—”

Mikael groaned when Cyril elbowed him in the stomach.

“I know that, you arse. What are you doing here?”

“I…” His amused expression turned scrutinizing. “Why are you reading books about…purists and the…Forn Peninsula? Did my mother put you up to something?”

“No, she didn’t. I’m just…educating myself, that’s all.” Cyril stepped away from him to stack the tomes and tuck her notes between the two volumes. He didn’t need to see the evidence of her failed attempts at usefulness. “Did you come to bother me, or do you actually need something?”

“Such hostility from you, wrath.” Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he leaned against the desk behind them. He was quiet, though, as he said, “I wanted to see if you were alright, after last—”

“I’m fine.”

They were not going there.

“Noted. I also need you to come eat dinner, so you have a fighting chance at keeping your feet under you when we go to the barracks.”

Dinner? Cyril blinked.

A cursory glance towards the other end of the archives told her that the sun no longer filtered through the stained glass window. She’d been at this stupid tome for hours.

“How thoughtful of you.” Cyril flashed him a tight smile. “Does anything other than drinking happen at the barracks, or…?”

Mikael shrugged. The arse.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

That felt like a no to her.