Page 139 of The Prince's Mage

But it was just him. So he was going to have to make do.

“Always another fire,” Gavril whispered, reaching down and offering his hands to Marcella and Aimilia. He pulled them both up as Konstantin passed Hypatia’s unconscious body over to another soldier as he ran up to them.

He said in the Inimicus tongue, “Prince. Father not sick? Nikias not authority?”

Unfortunately.

“Looks like my father got better,” Gavril said, keeping an eye on the crowd where the scout had come from. Where his father was going to come from. “But that doesn’t make our treaty invalid. We just need to make sure my father keeps to it. We need to make sure Nikias’ sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.”

Aimilia grabbed at Gavril’s sleeve and hissed, “Gavril, if your father knows what I did—”

“He will not. No one will know. You will be safe,” Gavril said, eyes darting around, trying to see if there was a place he could rush Aimilia and Marcella off to in order to ensure he bore the brunt of his father’s rage.

Maybe one day he’d run out of secrets he needed to keep to protect the people he cared about. But for as long as his father lived, this was one he would ensure stayed buried.

But the crowd was parting and he could see his father riding up with an expression that had always ended with the necessity of an illusion or multiple. There was no time, so he simply ushered them behind him and turned to Konstantin, who seemed to understand his intentions perfectly as he responded with a nod.

Fine. Maybe the clan mage who had adopted his wife wasn’t all that bad.

The second they appeared, Gavril took a deep breath and stepped forward. Konstantin started to walk with him.

“Gavril—” Marcella grabbed at his sleeve, jerking him back.

He quickly turned back just long enough to press a kiss to her lips and say, “This is my battle to fight as Hypatia is yours. I can do this. I will do this.”

Marcella let go, and Gavril moved to face his father as he dismounted.

“Your father… he is less reasonable than your brother and far less reasonable than you?” Konstantin murmured in his language.

“Nikias is the most reasonable man alive next to him.”

“Then let’s be grateful Hypatia is unconscious.”

“Boy! Where is my son?” Father snapped in their language, and it took all of Gavril’s willpower not to flinch.

His father wasn’t likely to hit him in front of such a crowd, but then again… he’d never been a traitor before, so it was possible.

“King Nero. Good to meet,” Konstantin said in the Inimicus tongue, stepping in front of Gavril with a perfectly practiced smile and an outstretched hand like they were simply new neighbors. “Good you are recovered.”

Father simply eyed Konstantin’s hand like it was dirt. “You are?”

“Konstantin of Montis. Chiefess Hypatia’s husband and leader of the coalition while she is…” Konstantin trailed off.

“Indisposed,” Gavril supplied.

Father sneered at the mention of Hypatia. “Where is my son?”

Konstantin looked at Gavril with a furrow to his brow. Gavril wasn’t sure if Konstantin was actually confused by the other language or just acting.

“Nikias is resting,” Gavril said. “The negotiations finished yesterday. He and Chiefess Hypatia had already finished all the details and signed, Father. We are not at war anymore. We have peace.”

Father recoiled, taking a slight step back. He shook his head. “Peace? No. My son would never sign a peace treaty with the Desero demon.” His eyes landed back on Gavril, darkening. “What have you done, boy? This has you written all over it.”

“King Nero, sit, speak with me,” Konstantin said, trying to cut in again, but Father was not deterred.

Gavril swallowed, but he didn’t retreat when his father moved forward. He was blustering and huffing, and there was no stopping him now. Even though his hands were shaking and he seemed to be unsteady on his legs in a way Gavril had never seen before.

He was nowhere near recovered from Aimilia’s poison.

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