Page 115 of The Prince's Captive

“You will.”

The resignation and peaceful sadness in her eyes made him want to pull her into his arms and curl himself around her, whispering into her ear until she finally looked at him with the faith and surety that she did when she prayed.

She continued, “Your truce… this chance for peace, it sounds like a beautiful thing, but are you willing to sacrifice for it? Faith does not come without the willingness to lose something for its sake. This peace and your ability to force it into being… If that is what you believe in, what will you do when you fail?”

He could not fail. He would not let himself.

He would have peace. He would keep Marcella safe.

It was not a choice between the two.

“I think we are all weary of paying prices in blood. As for what I am willing to sacrifice for it?” Gavril’s head was still pounding and he had to take care with every word not to open the split lip she couldn’t see. “I am quite willing to suffer for it.”

Marcella nodded, eyes narrowing. “Your girl. You have lost her because of this pursuit. All you two do is fight.”

She was right, sort of, just not entirely accurate in the details she knew. He had lost Aimilia, but not as his girl. For as much as she’d wanted to be, he’d never held that regard for her. Oh, if he’d never met Marcella… If he’d returned with Hypatia and Marcella had remained some Desero soldier he would never cross paths with, then he would have returned and proposed officially to Aimilia, and he would have married her. And it wouldn’t have been perfect, but he would have been married to his closest friend that he deeply respected who loved him, even if she loved him more than he loved her. It would have been companionable.

But it wouldn’t have been Marcella.

Now he had Marcella, and in doing so, he’d lose Aimilia even as a friend because she could not accept Marcella or a place in his life as just his friend. He blamed Nikias for getting into Aimilia’s head and planting ideas.

But Gavril had hope. So he opened his mouth to finally tell her. “Aimilia is not my girl.”

Marcella swallowed, and her voice was low. “Because of this?”

He did not know whether she meant because of her or if she was referring to his pursuit of peace. He supposed they were in essence the same thing.

“Yes.”

“I am sorry, then. You have already sacrificed. Maybe you do know something of faith.”

Gavril stepped closer, his arm brushing hers as he reached for her left hand. His head was still pounding, but he found Marcella’s voice too intoxicating to hear to care. She startled slightly when his fingers brushed her skin. “Is that what you meant? The other day on the way back to the palace? The rock is not for Inimicus because we have no faith?”

But before he could hear her answer, the door to the room was flying open. Gavril immediately pulled Marcella behind him to see Nikias standing in the doorway.

Somehow, he had lost even more color than the last time Gavril had seen him. He was whiter than the marble of the palace, which only made the dark circles under his eyes worse. His black mourning clothes didn’t help either. But even more, his hair was messier than usual and dingier as well. He did not look like a reasonable man.

The two guards who had delivered Marcella to him stood in the hallway behind him.

Gavril should have anticipated this. Of course they would go scurrying off to inform Nikias immediately. But then he felt Marcella’s hand in the back of his chiton, gripping the fabric.

He didn’t care if it was for her own comfort or his. The fact that she had, and that it was clearly instinctual, was everything.

Nikias snapped in their language, “What do you think you’re doing? Did I not just yesterday reveal to you that your she-wolf lied to you and made fools of us all? That she cannot be trusted? And yet here you are showing her where the rock with an unfathomable amount of vitae is kept?”

Gavril wasn’t sure how much of his language she knew—he hoped very little—but he muttered to her in hers, “Steady. I will handle.”

Nikias rolled his eyes, but Gavril knew he had no idea what he’d said; it was the fact he spoke to Marcella at all that annoyed him.

He turned back to Nikias and said in their language, “I am doing this my way. Not yours.”

“Your way is getting you lies. Father is getting antsy, and I know—” Nikias stepped forward, his eyes analyzing Gavril and looking for his tells.

He would find them.

“She didn’t lie!” Gavril’s attempt to distract Nikias by raising his voice failed as he felt his lip split open. He immediately reached up and covered his mouth to hide the blood that would slip past his illusion.

Nikias swore and rushed forward, grabbing Gavril by the shoulder and turning him, so the guards wouldn’t see as Gavril ducked his head, hiding his face from Marcella as well while Nikias pulled him out of her grip.

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