Page 34 of The Prince's Captive

He gestured to her curls that had only gotten rattier and sadder the more time they spent on the road. She and the soldiers were all ragged and all absolutely reeked, but of them all she was probably the worst.

He said, “Look similar. Meant to be caught. Demon’s sister?”

“I don’t know why I look like her, only that I do.” She huffed. “You’d have to ask Asentai, but I’m assuming it was for this reason I resemble her.”

When she said that, Gavril stared at her like she had two heads.

Right. He was Inimicus. He didn’t believe Asentai did anything anymore.

But instead, he said, “Your people… aren’t they going to come for you once she is safe?”

That’s what baffled him?

Marcella could pretend like someone might come for her, but she wouldn’t. She was tired of pretending to be someone when she was no one.

The Inimicus were going to do to her whatever they wanted, and she kept up her prayers and watched for an opportunity to escape but every day they got closer to the capital where she was either going to die or go on a table. Not even a commander like Gavril would be able to stop that from happening.

If he was sincere.

“No.”

“Your family?”

“No.”

“Who is coming for you?”

Marcella turned so she faced him directly. “No one.”

“They do not value you?”

“There is no value.”

“You… were meant to be thrown aside?”

She blinked at him. “You’re a soldier, aren’t you? That’s what we’re made for.”

“I… don’t understand.”

Marcella huffed and kept eating.

He just stared at her. She ignored him.

The next day, while his front was flush against her back in the saddle, she jumped when his thumb brushed over the scar on her waist as he murmured, “Convincing fake. Did not know… capable.”

She had no idea what he was trying to say, and she tried to shift to put some distance between them just so she could think clearly, but he just tightened his grip and held her in place. She said, “You underestimated my people.”

He adjusted his grip on her and the reins as he said, “Seems so.”

Two weeks after her capture and four days after Gavril revealed he knew she wasn’t Hypatia… Marcella spotted her miracle.

Gavril seated her at the edge of the camp; ever since he’d guessed the truth, he’d been moving her closer and closer to the edge. She’d spotted him eyeing the silenced mage on the other side of the camp every time he did so. When the men settled down for dinner, except for the ones patrolling the camp, Gavril started to head her way but was called over by the older commander.

She spotted the silenced Inimicus approach the mage closest to her and relieve him of his duty. Every muscle in her tensed although she wasn’t sure why. She just didn’t like the way he’d been looking at her.

But he didn’t even look her way once.

No one looked her way much anymore. It was a cloudy night too. They’d been using fewer light runes throughout the camp, likely what Gavril and the other commander were talking about. She didn’t entirely understand why they’d lessened the runes they cast. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their vitae on that in the event of an attack.

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