Page 121 of The Prince's Mage

She continued, explaining how close they were to Areator and the other commander was suspicious of Gavril already and had seen her cast runes at the same time, so Gavril decided the only course of action was to marry her to protect her from being killed or put on one of the tables. He would have the law on his side.

Hypatia had sat back down at some point and was leaning her chin on her palm. She raised an eyebrow. “Did it work? Or did he do it just so he could—”

“Chiefess, nothing like that has happened. I did not even know it was a marriage until right before we left Areator, and he never took advantage of me.” Marcella’s firm tone surprised herself more than it seemed to surprise Hypatia. “He has always treated me with the utmost respect.”

Hypatia just shifted forward in her seat. “Did it work?”

“Yes.”

The illusions had been holding steady over the last few days. Gavril had said they would hold for around a week. Now that she could find him, she could get to him so he could replace them if they started to fade before this was over.

“Him forcing you into a so-called marriage you weren’t aware of actually held off their heretics?”

“He didn’t know I was unaware at first of their customs and he was not as skilled in our tongue then, so he misunderstood and thought I did. But otherwise, yes. I’m standing here, aren’t I? If it had failed and I’d gone up on one of their tables, we both know I wouldn’t have survived. No one gets off unless they’re dead.”

She and Gavril were going to take the fact that her heart had stopped with them to their graves. Neither of their people could ever know.

It was a risky move, but Marcella needed to play more to Hypatia’s expectations of Marcella than try to make her see anything clearly.

Hypatia sat back in her seat with a dismissive acceptance. “That’s true enough. It’s a miracle Prince Nikias didn’t succeed or didn’t outright kill you for looking like me. Maybe your prince’s scheme had some merit.”

Marcella held her breath, but instead of full acceptance, Hypatia just waved her hand for her to continue.

Marcella did so with her edited version, keeping as close to the truth as possible without damaging her cause. She talked about how Gavril was trying to prove his theory of their magic being the same and how that involved sparring with her. When she reached the point of the supply cache, she groveled a little more and explained it was part of her plan to win Gavril’s trust to capture him and she left out entirely that it had been partially to keep herself off the tables. Her story while Gavril had been gone was that she’d been left alone and his success had gotten her moved into a proper room where he finally shared his full theory with her. She’d agreed to help in the hopes of capturing Nikias until she realized there was something real to his theory.

When Marcella finished, her throat was dry and her voice hoarse from how long she’d been speaking, and her legs ached from her kneeling position, but she didn’t dare rise.

Hypatia had a slight furrow to her brow, and it was such a bizarre expression on her face. The only reason Marcella knew what it meant was because of when she’d seen it in her reflection. Confusion.

“Prince Nikias was helping you and your prince?” Hypatia asked, her disbelief crawling out into her voice. “Prince Nikiaswas actually interested in achieving real peace?”

Marcella wasn’t sure if his help had ever been genuine or if it had been faked so he could get close to her to prove his suspicions.

“Yes.”

It didn’t matter if Nikias had never been interested in peace. He was going to be forced to get it regardless.

“If the Inimicus are willing to sit at the table and reach an agreement with us, then we must have peace. We must treat Prince Gavril and Prince Nikias honorably and come to terms.”

Marcella startled at the new voice. She looked over her shoulder to see Konstantin standing just inside the tent flap. How long had he been there?

Hypatia barely acknowledged him with a flippant wave of her hand, still looking at Marcella. “I’ve heard your case as to why you call that man your husband. But all I see is an arrangement according to their laws and not in the eyes of Asentai that has served its purpose. If I take your word instead of that soldier’s, completely opposing stories, where Prince Gavril did not actually make you alupa, as they call it… Then his respectful conduct I suspect has left grounds for annulment since you have not been truly living like you’re married. This matter I suspect will be the only one Prince Nikias and I agree on in negotiations. You were not married by a priest in our tradition, so you are not married. He will be returned to his people and you will come back to Desero where you belong.”

Marcella’s heart hit the floor.

“No, Hypatia—Chiefess, please—” Marcella started to rise, stumbling on her aching legs.

But Konstantin was faster, already breezing past her to Hypatia as she rose from her seat and started toward her war table. “Hypatia, this pettiness is beneath you. You—”

Hypatia whirled around to face him. “I am Chiefess of Desero. Marcella is Desero. She falls under my authority.”

“In your eyes, everything is under your authority,” Konstantin snapped. “Your clan became mine the second I married you, and you know very well you are not the only one with authority here.”

“Marcella. Out!” Hypatia snapped.

Marcella scurried out of the tent as fast as humanly possible. Hypatia had never responded well to anyone challenging her.

It had been nice knowing Konstantin. She’d only known him for a few days, but she imagined he would be dearly missed by many. Everyone from Clan Montis she’d spoken to regarded him very highly.

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