Page 90 of The Prince's Captive

So he was less miserable than he would be if she was dead.

Gavril ran a hand through his hair—if he kept this up he was going to make himself bald—and took another look at what he’d recorded in his notebook from his most recent test. The ridiculous glowing crystal sat on the worktable in front of him, taunting him. The runes he’d been using to examine it and gather information about the vitae levels within had given him nothing the academics hadn’t discovered when they’d done their first tests on the rock after Gavril brought it back.

He didn’t know how yet. He especially didn’t know how because he didn’t have any new information about it, but he was certain he could use it to prove his theory.

Despite the fact he already had, no one else was willing to believe the evidence he had that Marcella’s Sordes vitae was compatible enough to form a marriage bond and he had her vitae under his skin—exactly like any Runai’s vitae.

There was no corruption in the Sordes vitae. They were no different than the Runai. They were all Runai.

The healers had said it was a miracle and a testament to the strength of the royal line that her corrupted vitae hadn’t killed him or even damaged his own, and that the corruption was contained to just the lines on his wrist.

So since they wouldn’t believe the proof he already had, then he would have to find something stronger.

A rock that seemed to emanate pure vitae that was in Hypatia’s entourage surely had to be helpful. Gavril… just didn’t know how yet.

He’d been alternating between sparring with Marcella and studying the rock for three weeks now.

His parents were… expecting something.

Gavril pulled his hand out of his hair and shifted on the stool. He would need to avoid backed chairs, or at least be careful not to lean back in them. At least until the bruise on his back wasn’t as tender as it had been earlier.

He’d still hidden it under an illusion just in case.

He’d learned what happened when he trusted his clothes to hide such injuries when he’d been in the Academy and Aimilia had seen a bruise on his arm when his sleeve had come undone during a sparring match.

While Gavril wanted Marcella healthy and strong, he couldn’t deny he was a little bit grateful she had yet to land a hit on him in a way that would expose his illusions.

There hadn’t been many to hide yet, but the bruise on his back was a risk.

Aimilia was still avoiding him after their last fight, so she wouldn’t be close enough to pick up on Gavril’s tells.

It was fine. Gavril always was.

It was just… hard to focus.

And if he wanted it to just be the bruise on his back, he needed something to report back to his parents soon. He’d been hoping for a little more time. Mostly because right now he only had one goal in his sessions with Marcella.

“Interdicimus mors tua.”

“I forbid your death.”

Make her want to live again.

So he needed the rock to provide something useful instead.

But it just sat there. Gavril cast rune after rune, gathering readings of its vitae and running through all the diagnostic runes he remembered from the quarter in the Academy they’d spent on the subject. And still, he got nothing.

There were no runes etched into it that he could find.

But how else was it overflowing with a level of vitae that couldn’t be found even in the most powerful mages they had on record?

Gavril looked over at his copies of physicals, fifty of them actually. Fifty physicals from the commanders who had placed first in the last fifty graduation tournaments. The best and the strongest mages the Inimicus had.

Gavril’s physical was not among them.

His year, the most recent graduating class, was represented by Aimilia.

Nikias’ physical from six years before was, of course, there for his class.

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