Page 114 of The Prince's Captive

Which was why Gavril was killing himself over this rock, trying to scrape together a shred of information to keep buying time and prove his theory. But he was not going to let Marcella take that burden.

The way she had been with him lately… When she’d looked at him and admitted she was not delighting in his misery, all of this gently fostered the smoldering hope in his chest. That maybe his wife wouldn’t despise him upon discovering she was his wife, and maybe even return his affection.

Maybe he could prove his theory, have peace with her people, and keep her in the process.

Marcella nodded, and he reluctantly pulled away as she did peer at the papers on the table that they both knew she couldn’t read since they were in his tongue. She said, “What do your people hope to gain from such a rock? You seek out and exterminate your void hearts before they even breathe.”

He thought it such a strange term they had for leeches,sanguisugae,abominations that took on human appearances.

“Void hearts, as you call them, are extremely rare amongst my people. That is because we exterminate the creatures before their corruption can spread, or worse, they can put us all in danger by expanding the Abyss.” Gavril shook his head and reached out, touching the rock. The second his fingers brushed the edge Marcella gasped. He looked back to see she had her hand half outstretched, and then she ripped it back.

She definitely knew more about this rock than she’d ever revealed.

He continued, “So no, we have no use for the vitae inside the rock. But it is a—” he didn’t know their word for phenomenon so he changed directions. “The rock is impossible. My people do not like anything to be beyond understanding. As for what I hope to gain? Peace.”

She scowled at him and crossed her arms. “Peace. The Abyss. Void heart. Corruption. Those are just your people’s excuse to exterminate mine just like you do void hearts. Your people will swim in an ocean of blood and call it peace.”

“I aspire to greater things. That is not my peace. This rock… I think can bring my peace,” Gavril said, eyeing it.

“How?” Marcella stepped closer, raising an eyebrow and never taking her eyes off the hand he had on the rock.

He was curious how long she was going to hold her tongue about whatever objection she had to touching it.

“This vitae… it is your people’s vitae, is it not? Similar to the way it is my people’s vitae that is in your cuffs.” Gavril nodded toward her limiting cuffs.

She just tilted her head. “It is vitae. But I cannot say it is anything like the way you people spit in Asentai’s face by using her gift to create such horrible things like cutting mages off from their magic or the tools your heretics use to manipulate our vitae against our will while we bleed and die on their tables.”

Fair enough.

“So your people did not make this?” Gavril asked.

Marcella immediately snapped her jaw shut and narrowed her eyes at him. Then she snapped, “I thought my safety was not dependent on me giving you information.”

Stubborn girl.

“It is not.” Gavril pulled his hand away. “I was simply trying to explain that I think it shows our people have more in common than not.”

“And you believe that is enough for your people to stop blaming mine for the Abyss? And for mine to forget all the clan mages you have killed on the field and on your tables?”

“I think it can at least get us to stop spilling blood long enough to discuss it.”

Marcella’s hands fell to her sides and she looked at him the same way she had when he had first spoken her tongue to her. Complete and utter bafflement with a little bit of wonder and terror.

She whispered, “You… I do not understand you. You are not Inimicus. You are not like your people.”

He recognized her statement for what it was. And that hope fluttering in his chest grew. He simply inclined his head and said, “Thank you.”

She shook her head. “Why do you care about peace? You are Inimicus. You should care about knowledge above virtue. My people’s spilled blood should be of no consequence to you in your people’s pursuit. You should not…”

But instead of finishing the thought, she just lowered the hand she’d been using to gesture at him and folded it back against her side.

“I should not what? Have hope? Believe in something? Is belief a practice reserved only for your people?” Gavril tilted his head.

“Inimicus believe in themselves first. You… You… that is still true. You believe in yourself as this bringer of peace. It is not that you do not have faith, simply that you place it wholly within your own hands.” Marcella sank her fingers into her chiton. “But human hands always fail.”

He stepped forward. “Mine will not.”

She shook her head and spoke as if she was the Desero girl with the ability to foretell the future.

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