Page 48 of The Prince's Mage

She could figure out how to get away from Gavril later.

The next day, after they were already an hour or two into it, Marcella lifted her head from her hands—she was only half as tired as she was pretending to be—and said in their language, “Break? Walk?”

Gavril looked up from his work and said in her language, “You want to go stretch your legs? Your strength is back enough for that?”

Marcella nodded.

As Gavril immediately started to push his things to the side, Aimilia was pushing them back at him and saying in their tongue, “No, you stay—the one learning—practice—pressure—will take her—watch her—teach her—you won’t.”

“Aimilia, don’t—” Gavril immediately started, but was cut off.

Aimilia rolled her eyes. “I won’t—will be careful—break from you—clearly—else would she sneak away—suffocating—trust me?”

Marcella liked this. Aimilia was better.

Not only was this probably the only way she could get away from Gavril for more than two minutes, but Aimilia was the one Nikias would go after. She was the one whom Marcella could ask about Nikias without drawing suspicion, although… neither were very good in the other’s language. Still, Gavril would only get suspicious if Marcella tried him.

“Fine.” Gavril sank back into his seat as Aimilia shot out of hers.

Before Marcella could blink, Aimilia had already grabbed a book with papers sticking out of it, tucked it under her arm, and pulled Marcella out of her chair. Marcella got her feet under her as Aimilia led her into the hallway. The second they were out of the library, Aimilia dropped her arm, opened the book, and set off. Marcella followed her as Aimilia said in Marcella’s tongue, “Told him he was… too—Uh… too much. All over you. Need room to breathe. We walk. I teach. You learn. Language. Annoying to be stupid, must be.”

Marcella blinked at her as she fell into step beside her. The way she said it made Marcella think it wasn’t meant to be an insult. At least not a devastating one. Was Aimilia… going to teach her more of their language?

That would also be helpful.

Aimilia flipped the page and said, “Colors.” With one hand she gestured to her hair. “Rubrum.”

Red. A little basic, but Marcella’s collection of what she did know of their tongue was… eclectic. Covering the basics again couldn’t hurt.

So that was added to the routine. As well as more visits to theacademielibrary. All three of them enjoyed getting out of the palace once or twice a week. To Marcella’s relief and guilt, each visit made Gavril hover a little less while there. She liked the chance to interact with the students.

Most of it was because she genuinely liked them. And some of them didn’t look at her like she was the dirt on their sandals.

Part of it was because she could ask the students questions that wouldn’t arouse suspicion the same way it would if she asked Gavril or Aimilia. Like the fastest routes through the city. How they snuck out of the academy at night and slunk through the city without getting caught. The students didn’t think she understood the majority of what they said anyway, so their lips were quite loose. They’d said so right in front of her face.

She’d also promised not to tell. Besides, who would believe her, the Sordes girl, over the esteemedacademiestudents?

The girls had laughed when Marcella winked. Then Gavril had stepped out of the library and let out a long sigh at seeing her with them.

She’d gotten a whole ten minutes before he’d come looking.

Other visits, she didn’t push it and stayed nearby, occasionally talking to students who came for their own research materials. Well, attempted to with her terrible, fractured skill in their tongue. The majority of the time the information wasn’t useful for her mission, but she didn’t mind. She liked the students.

Part of her wondered what it would have been like if she’d been one of them.

On the days they were in the palace, Marcella would ask for a walk, and Aimilia would insist she do it so Marcella could get a little bit of space from Gavril and she could attempt to teach Marcella the Inimicus language. It was rough since Aimilia knew very little of Marcella’s language and had to rely on the dictionary, which wasn’t the most accurate thing.

And they didn’t go far from the library. When Marcella asked, Aimilia had fumbled her way through her explanation before just switching back to the Inimicus language and Marcella got the gist. Gavril was worried something would happen to her if she went too far, even with Aimilia.

Marcella knew that wasn’t just Gavril being overprotective, anxious, and trying to coddle her. It was true.

It was a good reminder. Marcella wasn’t safe in Areator.

Which was why she had to do this. Even if it made her sick the way she was turning over the map she was constructing in her head of the palace when Gavril held her at night after her nightmares.

But what was worse was when one night, after she’d pulled Gavril out of his own nightmare, his head resting in her lap, he whispered, “Those prayers… from the night before I left… they had this structure to them. They seem different.”

Marcella’s hand gently running through his hair stilled. She said, “I did not construct them. Those are from High Priestess Hagne’s collection of prayers that I have memorized. She was a Solitus from my clan who went to the temple. I have found great comfort and use in having them on hand.”

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