Page 111 of The Prince's Mage

“But they have no use for it.”

Every eye in the tent turned back on Marcella. Her heart stuttered and her voice failed her for a moment. She cleared her throat as Hypatia tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

“High Priest, they have no care for anything sacred or religious.” Somehow her voice was still steady and strong. “What use do they have for what they see as a curious rock when we have their prince? They will gladly return it safely for their prince. That is why I chose the prince. Not because I have misplaced my priorities, but because I know theirs.”

High Priest Panagiotis sat back down, glaring at her but falling silent. Konstantin looked her over again with a sharp, analytical edge. Hypatia turned back to Marcella with a wicked grin. “You have been hiding your intelligence, little one. Not only were you blessed to look like me, you were also blessed with at least a fraction of my intelligence.”

Marcella was trying not to look at Gavril directly, knowing she would not be able to hide the depth of her affection from Hypatia if she did, but out of the corner of her eye she could see him. She could see his scowl deepen and his jaw clench so tightly she was half certain she would hear bone break.

She wished Gavril wouldn’t let it bother him so. It wasn’t even true. It had been Gavril’s intelligence, not hers.

But his restraint did not go unnoticed as Hypatia approached them slowly, eyes skimming over Gavril. She gestured to him and said, “Prince Gavril…”

Gavril’s jaw slowly unclenched enough for him to say, “Yes?”

The closer Hypatia got, the faster Marcella’s heart beat. She shifted, unsure what she could do against Hypatia, but staying light on her feeble feet was better than nothing.

“You were the one sent to catch me. Even if I hadn’t gotten the little mage you left behind, I remember you.” Hypatia’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “You came riding out of the trees.”

Gavril’s breath hitched. Marcella cursed herself.

“Of course you remember that ambush. You know, the one where you killed my father and absconded with my little lookalike that I’m so very fond of?”

Or blaming him for her father’s death.

“You can’t be that fond of her if you jump at the chance to carve into her.”

She should have known Gavril wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue. She should have made him silence himself.

But Hypatia’s wicked grin just grew bigger. Behind her Konstantin’s eyes doubled in size and nearly fell out of his skull. Apparently Hypatia hadn’t told her husband about that.

“You shouldn’t fret about what your little soldier told me. I would have figured it out anyway. He just confirmed it for me. I barely saw your face in the ambush, but I did in my vision. You seeing the scar on Marcella’s side that matched mine. Hmm…” Hypatia eyed how close the two of them were standing. “That was you, and you are also the prince we heard had taken a particular interest in my lookalike, plus everything the soldier told me about the time he saw you with her on the road…”

Oh no.

Hypatia turned to Marcella. “That’s more than enough information. You did more than just win his trust, didn’t you? He doesn’t seem all that shocked or betrayed. I reckon he’s angrier with me than with you. You must have really done a number on him if he’s so willing a hostage.”

“Hypatia.” Konstantin’s voice held a warning tone, but Marcella knew Hypatia too well to believe she’d ever heed it.

Even Hypatia thought she was a… she-wolf.

Marcella’s cheeks were flooded with heat as she took a deep breath to keep her composure. Someone had to. “What you’re implying is not true. I do not know what that Inimicus said, but things aren’t like that. Prince Gavril is so willing because he believes despite our differences, true peace can be achieved. The Inimicus army has likely already started marching this direction. They were almost ready to leave when we left Areator. He’s here because he wants to stop the bloodshed. Don’t you want peace?”

Gavril’s breath hitched beside her.

Hypatia tilted her head. “By peace… do you mean I want our people to stop dying? Yes. Do I want the Inimicus king begging at my feet for mercy? Also yes.” She looked over at the lieutenant by the tent entrance and said, “Take the prince and decide what part of him will be most identifiable to his father. I think I would like a finger, there’s some sort of lesson in that about keeping his hands to himself.”

“Chiefess—” High Priest Panagiotis said, rising from his chair.

“No!” Marcella’s voice ripped through the tent as she spun around to face the lieutenant. Her hands flew through the air. Gavril had grabbed the back of her cloak and pulled her close and she gasped to see what she’d successfully cast as the lieutenant hit the ground, hissing in pain from the vitae burn.

What she’d cast two-handed.

The tent was silent. Hypatia, Konstantin, the High Priest, and the lieutenant were all gaping at Marcella holding up the Inimicus rune. A rune that should not be possible for her to cast.

Hypatia was the first one to move, raising her hand to stop the lieutenant even though he hadn’t moved to get up from the ground.

Marcella’s heavy breaths filled the air.

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