Page 131 of The Prince's Mage

Her easy, mocking grin faded. It was clear this point was different from all the others covered before.

Marcella’s breath caught in her throat. Nikias’ eyes skimmed over her before he looked at Gavril who was glaring at him, and his jaw clenched.

Nikias opened his mouth, but before he spoke, Aimilia leaned over to him and whispered something. He glared at her and she glared right back at him.

He blinked first and then turned back to Hypatia and ground out, “We will outlaw the practice on pain of death. A quick death and that alone.”

Hypatia raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t seem displeased with that response. She nodded and a wicked grin spread over her lips that sent Marcella’s stomach falling to the floor as she turned to look at Marcella and said, “Little one, come here.”

Hypatia pushed herself out of her chair, pulling her arm out of Konstantin’s grip as she did so while Marcella took a tiny stuttering step toward her. Marcella’s heart was in her throat. She could feel Gavril and Konstantin’s eyes on her. Gavril stayed quiet just like he’d agreed to for Hypatia. Hypatia stepped behind Marcella and draped an arm lazily over her shoulder.

Nikias was stone-faced as he looked at the two of them, their similarities striking with the two of them so close, although Hypatia was taller. Before Marcella could figure out what Hypatia was doing, she’d unclasped the cloak and was ripping it off her shoulders.

Marcella gasped and scrambled to try to keep it on, but Hypatia had already thrown it across the room and Gavril barely managed to catch it. Konstantin shot out of his seat, but a sharp look from Hypatia stilled him.

Hypatia grabbed Marcella by the back of her head, sinking her fingers into her hair and pulling just enough to cause her to wince and know not to move further.

There was only one thing to look at with her whole neck exposed.

Hypatia’s voice filled the air, shaking from restraint and making her accent as she spoke in the Inimicus language heavier.

“There will be no peace until there is justice for this.”

Chapter48

MARCELLA

Hypatia laid her other hand on Marcella’s shoulder, tracing her fingers over the raised scar. Marcella wanted to turn her head. She wanted to run to Gavril and hide in his arms and beneath his cloak, but she was trapped.

Nikias blinked, but whatever was going on in his head was a mystery to Marcella as he looked at the scars he was responsible for, even if he wasn’t the one wielding the knife.

Marcella thanked Asentai briefly even in her horror that at least Hypatia didn’t know about her death. If Hypatia had that to use against Nikias…

There would be no peace.

Aimilia looked like she was going to be sick. Marcella could see Gavril out of the corner of her eyes, clutching his cloak and held back only because of the guards digging their feet into the ground.

Nikias lifted his chin. “You first.”

“Are you really still upset about that?” Hypatia leaned forward, resting her head beside Marcella’s, and there was a smug smile in her voice as she tapped her fingers on Marcella’s scars. “Is that what this was about?”

Nikias gritted his teeth and she could see his hands clenched around the arms of his chair. “Choose your words carefully, demon.”

“Oh, get over it already. We are at war. People die. Don’t send someone into battle that you can’t afford to lose. Don’t tell me you don’t know that fundamental truth. It’s not my problem you didn’t love your wife enough to realize that. Or maybe you just overestimated yourself and underestimated me. I’d caution you against making that mistake today.”

“By that measure…” Nikias twitched but otherwise was perfectly still. “You just said it yourself. Get over it. We are at war. People get interrogated. You don’t care about that girl. She is no one to you and your people. You scarred her to match you and sent her to die. This isn’t about her. This is about your thirst for blood.”

“I’m not an idiot. This wasn’t about information.” Hypatia said, her hand stilling on Marcella’s shoulder, tightening her grip. Her voice switched into something like a coo. “I bet you were so disappointed when your brother showed up with Marcella instead of me. I bet you’ve been dreaming of it. Of getting me onto one of your torture tables so you could have one of your heretics try to make me scream and beg for mercy the way your little wife—oh… what was the name you cried when she bled out?”

With every word, Marcella could feel the air thicken with tension even though her sight was limited with her head bent back. She closed her eyes, waiting for Nikias to explode, for Hypatia to ruin everything because she could not help herself. Her neck ached as Hypatia continued, “Faustina? Yes, that’s what it was, ‘Faustina, Faustina, hold on, it’ll be alright.’ But it wasn’t… was it?”

But when he didn’t, Marcella opened her eyes to see Aimilia’s hand on Nikias’ wrist, her grip so tight she wouldn’t be surprised if there were bruises in the shape of her fingers later. The only thing holding him back.

Konstantin looked like he was going to be sick.

“You wanted me and you got Marcella instead, with a shiny little band and neat little tattoo on her wrist courtesy of your sap of a brother to protect her. But you weren’t deterred, were you? If you couldn’t have me, you could at least get to live out your sick little fantasy of one of your heretics torturing me by torturing the next best thing, a girl who looks just like me. Did it help? Do you still see her dying at night or do you see Marcella crying, screaming for your brother to come save her the way your wife screamed for you?”

Marcella’s eyes watered and she felt leather straps digging in and the ghost of a blade on her skin. She whispered, “Hypatia, please stop.Please.”

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