Page 97 of The Prince's Captive

As much Marcella wanted to sink into it and believe him, she could still feel the sharp cold air as that cloak had been ripped off her.

“If you can give them something useful, will it help? It will make it easier for you?” Marcella’s voice was so soft it was barely a breath.

Gavril sighed. “Yes. If I could give my family—a little piece of information, the pressure will ease. I will be able to better protect you.”

Marcella closed her eyes.

She’d managed to keep some things from slipping out when she’d been on the table even with the heretic reading her heartbeat. Mostly because they hadn’t asked specifically. But if this would help Gavril trust her after how thoroughly she’d pushed him away…

“There is a…” As she spoke, Gavril shifted closer, the hand on her shoulder slipping around to her back. She swallowed, lowering her eyes again. “My clan, we… We have a store of war chariots and supplies on the edge of our territory. For easy access and mobilization. It’s… um… that’s where I was supposed to go if I escaped. It’s close to the route we took back here. A few hours… uh… east, maybe southeast of the place we camped at on our third night?”

What Marcella wasn’t saying was that they’d already cleared it of the good supplies for their entourage to Clan Montis.

All the Inimicus were going to find were scraps. But that bought her time.

And from the way Gavril was gaping at her with wide eyes and parted lips, it had just bought her an ounce of trust.

Marcella held her breath, staying perfectly still and praying to Asentai that he didn’t see through her. That somehow he wasn’t suspicious of her offering information to him when she’d spit in his face time and time again. Could a Sordes girl create an illusion that would be able to fool an Inimicus illusionist?

His thumb brushed over her cheek and he whispered in her tongue, “Don’t give me this just to stay off the table. I promised I will keep you off it. That’s my responsibility. You can trust me.”

“It will help me,” Marcella whispered. “And…”

This was a risk. He was likely going to completely see through it.

But if his family was desperate to get her back on the tables, she didn’t have a lot of time either to win his trust and capture him.

“It will help you.”

He breathed out, “Contra spem spero.”

Marcella held her breath, but he just reached up and cradled her face in both hands. He then said in her tongue, “Thank you. Your people will not be hurt too badly by this?”

“They are just things. Clan Montis has plenty of supplies to compensate,” Marcella muttered, wishing she could extract herself from his grip but not knowing how. It was…

It was hard to think when he was so close.

It was hard to remember that the reason she wanted his trust was to make him suffer for everything he’d done to her and to win her freedom. And not because the way he looked at her was something she’d never seen before.

At least, no one had ever looked at her that way.

Not the way people looked at Hypatia. Awe. Wonder. Worth.

He was such a good liar. He was so good at making her want to believe it was real, but it had to be because he thought his scheme was working to wear down her walls and get her compliance. She needed him to believe it.

He whispered, “Then I shall use it.”

She lowered her gaze because she could not stand looking at his face anymore. His hands brushed her hair back and out of her face, ensuring he could still see her. He whispered, “You… You are willing to help me if it will help you?”

“To give up the secrets of people to save my own skin?” Marcella forced her voice to crack. She wasn’t entirely off. “Yes. I am sacrificing them for my own selfish sake.”

“I meant—” Gavril shook his head, frowned and spoke slower. “You want… You care enough about yourself to overcome your hatred of me?”

Marcella squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t wrong. “You make me sound the weakest of women.”

He would underestimate her if so. He had to. She needed him to.

“No. No. Not at all. I think—I think—” He took a long breath and pulled his hands back. She looked up as he sat back, finally giving her the space to think as well. He pushed himself to his feet and stretched his hand out to her. “I do not think you weak.”

---