Page 10 of The Prince's Captive

Marcella fought the bile rising in her throat.

It was an honor.

It had to be.

That thought was the only comfort she was going to have for what was going to come next.

* * *

Two months later and the scar Hypatia had given her had healed in a near identical replica, only still a little visibly fresher despite the Desero healers doing their best to speed the healing and scarring process along. Their healing abilities were limited compared to the Inimicus, but better to be limited than to commit atrocities in the eyes of Asentai. Their healing abilities would always be tainted by the blood their heretics shed to get it.

Marcella would gladly take her people’s limited abilities and the lingering ache. Honestly, she felt worse for her fellow clansmen who’d had to hold her down. She imagined that was going to haunt them for the rest of their lives. Marcella wasn’t certain she had long enough left for it to haunt her.

The sun kept inching lower and lower in the sky, and all Marcella could see was the tops of the trees. She did wish they would have set her to sit upright so she could observe the camp better. She only had a limited amount of time to study the layout and what their security measures were.

It might be futile, but Marcella would rather that than give up completely.

Her faith demanded it.

A miracle could still occur.

Then her scar would have the chance to haunt her for the rest of her life.

Once the sun had long since set, and she could see the stars in the distance, she figured they were probably just going to leave her lying there in the mud for the whole night. She resigned herself to that fact, and honestly, she’d slept in worse places.

Her eyes were shut and she was doing her best to ignore the pain and take a little bit of comfort in the fact that they were leaving her alone when a voice ripped through the air. She startled and shifted slightly at the sound of the blond commander’s voice.

“—this?”

He sounded… angry.

From the corner of her eye she could see him coming right up to the Inimicus guards he’d assigned to her, a dark look in his eyes.

The Inimicus guarding her both started talking at once and over each other. The commander closed his eyes and lifted his hand up, and they fell silent. He snapped at them. “—time—what was going—obey your orders—commander—direct orders—”

The one that had hauled her out of the tent spoke. “Commander—orders by taking—let him near—him to death.”

The commander raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He said something else in a tone Marcella could only take as derisive and condescending. “—defy my orders—injured—worse—mud—”

The second Inimicus said something. “—clear—anything after that—tried—going to—”

The commander’s brow pinched and he took a deep breath. “—deal with you later. Go. Now—deal with you now.”

Marcella still couldn’t quite see well, but she heard footsteps. Was he chewing them out for not doing a better job of letting their heretic have at her?

Was he gone?

Hands were on her shoulder, pulling her upright, and she was no longer looking at the stars but instead bright green eyes. So the commander hadn’t left.

She gritted her teeth.

If she’d thought the heretic was bad—

But all he did was glance over her mud-stained face and hair in the moonlight and the firelight that was coming from somewhere behind him. Then he sighed and bent down. Before she could try to stop it, she was being pulled to her feet. Foot, rather. Her bad ankle was completely shot, so she didn’t dare put weight on it.

The commander pulled her with him, carrying most of her weight and ignoring the gazes of the other Inimicus in the camp on them. Marcella took advantage of her upright position to wildly look around, cataloguing the men patrolling the camp and trying to time their strides, but the commander was moving her so much she didn’t get an accurate enough count to do anything substantial with. Then she was being shoved into the largest tent in the camp, and she supposed she probably should have paid more attention to where she was being taken. It was the same one he’d disappeared into before with the older commander.

Outside was better. Outside meant the second vision that happened inside a tent wasn’t happening.

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