Page 29 of The Prince's Captive

“Well… usually for a miracle. Or maybe to voice gratitude for one.”

“You—your people believe Asentai will just—” he made a gesture in the air. “—miracles because you ask?”

The skepticism in his voice held no condescension.

“I—” Marcella blinked. “Uh… yes? Why else would we do it?”

He hummed and nodded. She waited for some kind of derisive, superior laugh or comment, but it never came. Instead, he said, “You do it often. Different miracle? Same miracle?”

“Same miracle.”

“What miracle?”

Marcella couldn’t help her lips from curling up into a harsh, ironic smile. “What miracle do you think I’m praying for right now?”

A light entered his eyes as understanding flickered across his face. He laughed. “Ah. I see.”

It wasn’t funny.

“Commander!”

Gavril sighed and lifted the flap so he could look over his shoulder. He turned back to her and said, “Duty calls.”

Marcella just stared at the now dark tent as he left. That had been… unexpected.

And it was likely all just part of him trying to lower her guard and loosen her tongue. Problem was… it had worked.

But… he hadn’t killed her. And he hadn’t handed her over to the heretic…

Maybe her miracle had been granted.

At least for a day.

Commander Gavril seemed determined to figure out who and what she was since she wasn’t Hypatia.

But now… Marcella was starting to think she needed to do the same.

Why hadn’t he told the other commander they had the wrong girl? Why hadn’t he told anyone she was worthless? Why was he still treating her like she wasn’t?

Chapter11

GAVRIL

Gavril dealt with the issue—a misunderstanding of assignments for the evening—as quickly as possible. Now that he had—well, he didn’t actually know who he had, but whoever she was, she was talking to him, and he didn’t want to give that up.

He knew he didn’t have Hypatia.

Oh. She made for a near perfect replica, and it had taken him too long to determine the truth for himself. Of course, he still had a thousand questions about how it was even possible he had the wrong girl, but maybe if he could keep her talking, he’d get some answers.

And maybe a solution to the problem she now was.

He stopped by the supplies to gather their nightly rations when he spotted Commander Cyprian approaching from the corner of his eye. Gavril resisted the urge to groan as he turned to face the other commander.

Cyprian said, “Is your idiotic scheme finally working the reason why you’ve hidden the demon away in her tent so early in the night?”

There were several reasons Gavril decided to hurry her over to her tent and keep her there for the night. One of which was Mage Hirtus. Gavril might have silenced him to make an example of him on the second night of traveling, but that didn’t mean Gavril believed for even a second he didn’t still need to keep an eye on him. He’d noticed the way the mage simultaneously glared and leered at the girl when he thought Gavril wasn’t looking. Mage Hirtus’ assignment that night would put him in the vicinity of where Gavril usually sat with the girl, so Gavril was going to forgo it entirely. Besides, the privacy seemed to make her more inclined to speak to him.

“You’re awfully concerned about the results of something you think is just a waste of effort,” Gavril said.

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