Page 136 of The Prince's Mage

Nikias came to a stop, Gavril beside him. Marcella and Aimilia came to their own stop right behind them. Nikias closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She could see him breathe a word, not audibly, just the way his lips shifted.

If Marcella were a betting woman, she would put money on ‘Faustina.’

He then reached up and unclasped his cloak. He opened his eyes and turned back. He passed the cloak to Aimilia, who scrambled to catch it as he let go, eyes wide. He said, “The demon won’t get the honor of sullying a prince’s and commander’s cloak today.”

Aimilia just nodded. “I’ll keep it safe for you, Your Highness.”

He then reached over and clasped Gavril by the shoulder. He said, “I know you have made yourself clear, I am not your brother. I will never have your forgiveness. Still, you are my brother. If I don’t make it, you will be the next king. Frankly, maybe we will all be better off in that case.”

Gavril shook his head, his voice tight and eyes watering. “I would make a terrible king.”

“You are responsible for peace.” Nikias let out a strange, breathy laugh. “All it will cost is one man’s temporary suffering.”

“And I only did it because I grabbed the wrong girl!” Gavril sputtered.

Nikias let out a tiny laugh. “Then I guess I should be thanking her. Little brother, you are a visionary.”

Nikias started to turn to Marcella, and she supposed he wanted to try to finish what he was going to say before Hypatia had interrupted in the tent, but what that was, she was still lost. Yet again, before he could speak, Hypatia interrupted.

“Don’t make me drag you in here, Prince. Stop stalling.”

Marcella looked past him to Hypatia, a face so eerily similar to her own. She said softly, “You are right about one thing. She is more demon than woman.”

Nikias nodded, rolled his shoulders, and turned to face Hypatia. He walked up to her and said, “I’m here, demon. Try all you can. You cannot do worse to me than you already have.”

Hypatia grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

They disappeared into the tent.

No one needed to go with them. Hypatia wouldn’t kill him. Not after going through all the work to get a peace treaty. Even when she was unbalanced, she didn’t truly lose control. Marcella could attest to that with the scar on her side. Besides, no one wanted to watch what she was about to do.

Silence fell over the camp. Marcella just took Gavril’s hand and held it while Aimilia’s knuckles turned white against the bundle of fabric that was Nikias’ cloak. Then someone came up beside them.

Konstantin.

“I could not stop her. I can never truly stop her it seems,” he whispered.

Marcella reached for Konstantin’s arm with her free hand and said, “No. This was my doing. I could have stopped her for good, and I did not. I could not. She said… She said that I knew this was the only way. Maybe she’s right.”

What did it say about them all if Hypatia was right?

He whispered, “This peace is always going to be coated in blood because of this.”

Gavril stared at the tent, desolation seeping into his voice. “I think all peace is coated in blood.”

“Why must it be?” Konstantin shook his head. “Why?”

“I wish I knew,” Gavril said.

A scream ripped through the air. Marcella pulled Gavril into her arms and tried to cover his ears. Aimilia had her hands over her ears, Nikias’ cloak half hiding her face as she winced.

Konstantin turned his face away. He clasped his hands together, and Marcella could hear him murmur under Nikias’ screaming, “Mother Asentai, forgive us. Forgive me. Forgive her. Let this peace last. Let this last.”

Marcella joined him in prayer.

She begged for her own forgiveness.

Although whether she needed to be forgiven for the action she had taken or the action she had not, she did not know.

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