Page 36 of The Prince's Mage

Whatever she had to do in order to get her strength back and kidnap Nikias, she would do.

Aimilia and Gavril finished their drinks first and immediately launched into the books and papers already assembled. Marcella just slowly sipped as they spoke in their language back and forth so quickly she couldn’t follow and just waited to be addressed in her tongue.

That first day, it was mostly them speaking to each other before Gavril eventually declared they were done—likely because Marcella was falling asleep on top of her arms.

But they came back the next day to Aimilia already waiting for them with her family’s secret drink, and that was how the days passed. And this became the new routine.

Marcella mostly just sat there and struggled to decipher the highly technical matters Gavril and Aimilia discussed, and always failed. She really only understood anything when she was addressed in her tongue.

The first few days, Gavril would occasionally turn to her and start trying to explain something in her tongue to her, but he struggled to accurately translate the technical terms, and she struggled to pay attention. Everything was still heavy and exhausting.

She tried to understand, to wrap her mind around it, but her thoughts were still hazy. She couldn’t muster up enough concentration to understand what exactly Gavril and Aimilia were doing. Of course she wasn’t smart enough to understand this.

She’d never been a great study even when she’d been a child learning magic in her own language at Clan Desero.

She was less so when they delved into discussing their people’s magic especially in their Inimicus language.

When her head would dip lower, Gavril cut himself off, swallowing before murmuring to her an apology for having to force her to be there and exhaust herself when she should be recovering. Then he would turn back to Aimilia and continue, leaving her to doze on her arms until she was needed.

When she was, she would lift her hands and cast whatever rune Gavril or Aimilia requested. Sometimes Aimilia or Gavril would ask her to cast two at the same time. That took a lot more energy and focus, especially in her weak state, so she did and they would take a flurry of notes and talk back and forth until she couldn’t hold them both any longer and dropped back into her chair.

Eventually, when she had used too much magic for her still recovering body—usually after casting two runes at the same time—Gavril would stop them and escort her back to her room where she would sleep. He would wake her up when he returned with something to eat and more apologies for pushing her too hard. She let him fuss over her because she didn’t have the strength to stop him, and when he left after eating with her, she put up a silencing rune.

Sometimes Gavril would bring the Heart out of the trunk and she told him the same thing she’d told Nikias in her desperation on the table. It was a relic for the temple. It had vitae in it, but none of them could access it since they weren’t void hearts, and no one was ever going to be foolish enough to let a void heart near a holy relic.

She didn’t tell him it was the Heart of Asentai. She’d managed to keep that secret. It wasn’t just a relic. It wastherelic.

And if the Inimicus sent word to Hypatia about the chance to get it back, with the High Priest pressuring her on one side and the other clans’ displeasure that she’d been the one to lose it to the Inimcius, she would have no choice but to do whatever the Inimicus asked.

So Marcella held her tongue and just called it the relic. They didn’t really need to know more anyway for their purposes.

Gavril frowned and stared at the Heart, but what he was looking for she had no idea.

Two weeks into their work, Gavril was deep in the shelves, looking for a book, and Aimilia abandoned the notes she was writing to lean back in her chair and stare at Marcella. In Marcella’s tongue, Aimilia said, “Stupid girl.”

Marcella jolted in her seat and turned to Aimilia. “What?”

“You. Stupid girl. Iron heart.” Aimilia gestured in the direction Gavril was. “You waste chance.”

She was… what? Was she talking about Gavril’s feelings for her?

“There is no chance to waste. This scheme… if it brings peace, it changes nothing. I will get to return to my people and he will forget me. You should be happy. You would have the chance to be his girl again,” Marcella said, resting her head on her hand, nothing else for her to do since she was just the source of magic to be studied.

It was better than being the source of magic to be studied on top of a table. Barely.

Aimilia’s brow furrowed. Her eyes darted to Marcella’s left wrist, and then she whispered in her tongue, “—know—don’t know—so stupid. He’s so stupid—so glad he didn’t—”

Then she shot out of her chair and into the stacks, yelling his name—thankfully the library was empty. “Gavril!”

Marcella strained her ears for their voices.

Aimilia’s was the loudest. “—idiot—told her—hasn’t known—whole time—utter idiot—thinks if you—go home—her life—doesn’t know—”

“—voice down!—understand—our language—doesn’t—realize—didn’t know until after—bond in her language—that meant—realize it was a different word—means trapped—didn’t know—off the table—begging me to kill her—refused, she cursed me—lose everything I have loved—desire will be out of reach—the one to destroy me—not exactly in a hurry—girl I desire—that I love—have loved since—the chance to destroy me—failed to keep her off the table—protect—well have been on it—my hand instead—grateful—chance to crawl—good graces.”

Marcella couldn’t pretend she didn’t know what their word for love was.

“—keep this a secret—pull away—will lose her—not saying—tell her right now—being honest, but I know you’re not—told me you didn’t want—me instead—Gavril, look—some reason I still care—happy—want her—want a chance—ran out after you to save you—only cared about where you were—gone—can pretend—feels nothing—not true—pull away.”

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