Page 20 of The Prince's Captive

MARCELLA

She startled, jumping back on the log she was sitting on when Commander Gavril appeared out of nowhere, grabbing the Inimicus by the shoulder and ripping him away from his task. The man’s eyes widened as his face went whiter than marble while the commander’s darkened and he snapped at him in a dark, guttural tone.

Marcella only caught one word.

“—saying—”

The man sputtered as he stumbled while the commander jostled him.

“Your—commander—just—didn’t mean—”

“—you think—didn’t mean—disrespect—commanding—undermine—didn’t mean—” Commander Gavril backed him toward the center of camp as all the men stopped what they were doing and watched. With each word the commander’s voice rose and his face turned redder in his fury. “—following my orders—leave—clan territory—drag every scrap—missing—end your—way you spoke—prefer—orders—you think is too soft?”

The man raised his hands defensively and continued to sputter, “No—course not—meant no disrespect—”

At that, Commander Gavril gave him a cold smile. “Good—you’ll have no—it.”

The man continued babbling. “—have my deepest—commander—won’t happen—”

But the commander shook his head, and Marcella jumped again when he threw the Inimicus at her feet, standing to the side of him, barking again in his tongue. “No. Not to—to the—”

The man landed on his hands and looked up at her. “—demon—to Desero demon?”

She stayed perfectly still, not entirely sure what was going on. Was this another scheme to try to make her trust the commander?

The fragments of their conversation she had really didn’t help her one way or another.

Commander Gavril also looked at her, and she did not like the sharpness in his gaze. Like he was looking right through her. Like he knew something about her she didn’t.

Or something she didn’t want him to know.

“—demon—we—prove—respect—anyway.” Commander Gavril did not break her gaze as he spoke even though he wasn’t talking to her.

The man said something, practically choking each word out, and Marcella couldn’t make sense of any of them.

Commander Gavril rolled his eyes and said something. “—her—soldier.”

The man looked up at Commander Gavril and sputtered again. “—don’t know—”

“—after me.” After he said that, the commander stood up straighter, and to her surprise, switched to her tongue. “I am sorry. I ask your forgiveness.”

Marcella wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for—other than maybe having kidnapped her in general, but if he was actually sorry for that, he’d just let her go. Considering he called her a demon and thought she’d committed some crime worth death, also unlikely, but then she realized he still wasn’t speaking to her.

The man kneeling in front of her choked on her language, butchering it worse than the commander, but it sounded similar enough she got the gist. “Sorry. Your forgiveness.”

The only reason the commander would be doing this would be to make a big show of it to try to make her think she could trust him. That he was a good man and the only one she could trust in the camp.

She wasn’t stupid.

But she wasn’t going to let him know she was onto him.

She looked up at Commander Gavril and said, “For what?”

He startled slightly and blinked down at her as the man looked between the two of them. That sharpness returned and her heart stuttered. Why did he keep looking at her like that?

Then it was gone.

He spoke slowly, brow furrowing as he fumbled through the words. “He… insulted. You… are here. Despite past, still treat with respect.”

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