Page 92 of The Prince's Captive

“Yourhelpis not something I’m interested in,” Gavril scoffed. “You’ve made it very clear where you stand in regards to Marcella, and we are not on the same page.”

“Look, I’m just trying to tell you that it’s not too late to stop this madness.” Nikias sighed. “There are a thousand different ways we can make this marriage go away—and before you get all huffy, they don’t all involve killing the Sordes girl. You don’t have to stay married to her and you shouldn’t. You should be marrying Aimilia.”

“Oh, here we go…” Gavril muttered, burying his head in his hand, but his obvious disinterest did nothing to dissuade Nikias.

“Aimilia is a Runai. She comes from a good, respectable House. She’s a strong mage, easily placing first amongst your class. Really that’s reason enough. But even past that, she has been your loyal friend and closest companion since you started on the command track together. You were meant to marry her.”

“Meant? By whom? Our parents? You?” Gavril raised an eyebrow at his brother. “I know you don’t believe in Asentai caring enough to direct anyone’s lives.”

Nikias paused. The shift in his expression ripped the air out of the room and Gavril was perfectly still. He’d never seen his guarded, reserved brother be so open and genuine in over three years. In a softer voice, Nikias said, “She loves you. Trust me, I’ve watched the two of you for years, and there is no doubt in my mind how much that girl loves you.”

Gavril didn’t need to be told that. Of course he knew how much Aimilia loved him. And he loved her. Of course he did. As his best friend. Not as his wife. Not the way he loved Marcella.

But it did explain why Nikias was so invested in this.

“It doesn’t matter.” Gavril lowered his gaze. “I’m married to Marcella, and it’s done. I’m not looking for a way out. I don’t want one. What was supposed to happen according to you, Aimilia, and our parents isn’t happening. And you’re all just going to have to live with it.”

“You want to be married to a girl who hates you?” Nikias scoffed, something darker entering his gaze. “Idiot. I am trying to give you a chance to be with someone who already loves you. What greater agony is there than to be married to someone who doesn’t love you? Especially when you love them?”

“I would rather she be alive to hate me than dead. Besides, why are you suddenly Aimilia’s champion all of a sudden?” Gavril scoffed. “You hate her. You’ve never gotten along. There is no one she hates more than you.”

Nikias laughed, but it was steeped in bitterness. “She doesn’t have to like me for me to realize the obvious. I like her more than I like the Desero demon’s lookalike. Aimilia would be a good wife for you. A good future queen since I have no plans to…” Nikias trailed off, his left wrist twitching. His black sleeve was tied down to his wrist. He cleared his throat. “At the bare minimum, at least you speak the same language.”

Gavril was working on that. When he wasn’t sparring with her or working on the rock, he was trying to study more of her language. He had a lot of things he had to deal with.

“Let it go. Because I’m not letting Marcella go.”

If Nikias wasn’t going to leave, Gavril would have to make him. His eyes darted down to Nikias’ left wrist. The edge of the scar could be seen. “You of all people should understand. I love Marcella. More than I could have ever thought possible. You were gone on—”

Gavril didn’t even get the first syllable out before Nikias was backing away from the table, snapping, “Don’t youdare.Don’t you dare speak her name in comparison—like she was anything like that she-wolf who is the spitting image of the demon and speaks with the same voice.”

“So your wife was the only one who gets any respect?”

“I married a woman worthy of respect. Not a filthy she-wolf,” Nikias spat, heading for the door. That was when Gavril noticed the bags under Nikias’ eyes he hadn’t before. “I came here to try to help you and a girl you used to call your closest friend try to fix the mess you’ve made. I even came here to help you find a way to let the she-wolf live, but fine, have it your way. You’ll get nowhere. You’ll get nothing from her. And you’ll fail to uphold your end of the vow, and that she-wolf is going to go back up on a healer’s table where she belongs.”

Gavril shot off his stool, but Nikias was already at the door. “We’ll see about that. I swear, Nikias, if you have anything to do with a hair on her head being harmed, you will not live to see another day! I will challenge you. Iwillwin. I am not like you. I willnotlose my wife.”

“Oh, little brother, it’s not up to me. What happens to your she-wolf is entirely up to you and her. I can’t say, though, that I won’t find some enjoyment in seeing the Desero demon’s lookalike suffer. At least now I know she screams and cries in agony the way the demon would. She’s worth nothing to anyone but for that. You will lose her.” Nikias opened the door and threw over his shoulder, “Well, frankly, you never had her.”

Then he was gone.

Gavril sighed and slumped against the table.

All in all, not the worst reaction he’d been expecting when he started to bring up Faustina. The last time Nikias had heard anyone say anything about her that wasn’t glowing, it had taken two other commanders to stop him from gutting the Runai.

That had been two years ago. Everyone knew better than to mention her in front of Nikias.

Still, no one was affording Gavril’s wife even a minuscule amount of respect. Not that she understood the insults.

Or was even aware of the fact that she was his wife.

Or that Gavril was scrambling to find something he could use to buy more time to keep her off the tables.

Nikias had been right about one thing. Gavril had made a massive mess.

The wife he loved had no idea she was his wife, and he was absolutely petrified of telling her because she already cursed his name and prayed every day for his suffering for what he’d done to her.

“Nunc scio quid sit amor, mea spes, et excrucior.”

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