Page 52 of The Prince's Mage

Would hers when she betrayed Gavril?

Would she live the rest of her life stuck with the permanent reminder of it?

Nikias stood there for a long time, staring at where Aimilia had vanished. Was he waiting for something? Someone else?

But finally, he turned and opened the door with his left hand, pushing it open and stepping inside the room. Marcella caught a glimpse of it before he shut the door behind him.

His study.

Now all she needed was to finish her plan for getting him and the Heart and escaping before Gavril could stop her.

When she reached the hallway her and Gavril’s rooms were on, she heard it before she even reached the door. His voice. The sound of someone moving quickly, roughly.

“Marcella!”

He’d discovered her absence.

She ran and quickly regretted it as her side burned and her legs fumbled. After the usual toll the day had taken on her, demonstrating her people’s runes for Aimilia and Gavril, and her nighttime excursion, she was exhausted.

The door to her room flew open when she was still a few feet from it. Gavril ran out of it, the same wild, desperate look in his eyes that was always there when he woke up from a nightmare. His hair was a mess, and she could see the sweat on his brow reflect in the dim light runes.

His eyes landed on her, but he didn’t stop running.

In seconds, it didn’t matter that her legs were collapsing beneath her as Gavril’s arms were around her, crushing her to himself so hard all the breath left her lungs. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, Gavril’s face buried in her curls and against her neck, one hand coming up and cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped tightly around her waist.

He shuddered against her as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her palms on his back. He murmured in her tongue, “Gone. I—you weren’t—”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed out. “I’m so sorry.”

Had it really only been a few months since she’d been so certain she would find delight in his misery? Anything from before her second ordeal on the table felt like another life entirely.

“Where? Why?” Gavril’s grip on the back of her head tightened slightly, fingers sliding deeper into her curls. “Why?”

Her heart twisted, and she stuttered over her lies. “I—I couldn’t sleep. I thought a short walk might help. I tire so quickly these days. I was certain that would exhaust me enough so I would have no choice but to sleep.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue.

She rested her head against his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Opened my eyes—thought—I thought maybe you hadn’t heard—or were trapped in your own nightmare. I wanted to see—I needed to see you were—I can’t—Ican’t—” Gavril’s voice broke. He took a long breath and then lifted his head, shifting his hand to cradle her face as he looked down at her. “I was ready to tear this palace to pieces to find you. I do not know what I would do if I had and you were not safe. Again. Please, do not go alone. Not at night. Not here. Get me. Whatever you need, get me.”

Marcella couldn’t meet his gaze, lowering it to her lap as she said, “I will. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

But he didn’t let go of her face and just tilted it back up so she was forced to look at him while she lied.

“I do not mean to—smother you as Aimilia says. I know you don’t—” Gavril sighed, finally pulling his hand back from her face and shifting back slightly. “I know you want peace, and that is why you are still here. I understand you have no faith in me. I do not deserve any after failing you so thoroughly. But please, at least let me do what I can to make up even a fraction of the suffering I have condemned you to in this palace.”

She wanted to scream at him to stop feeling so guilty. It was only making hers worse. At least he wouldn’t feel it after she handed his brother over to Hypatia.

And she wanted to scream at him to stop looking at her with that searching, slightly hopeful gaze. Like if he looked at her long enough he might see in her returned affection.

Maybe she was just afraid if he looked long enough he would find it.

“I understand. Can we…” Marcella tried to shift back and out of his embrace. “We should go rest.”

But instead of letting her go, he pulled her up with him and swept her legs out from under her. She opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it before she said anything to cast doubt on her story. She let him carry her the few feet back to her room and fuss over her until he was satisfied she was alright and reluctantly went back to his room.

She buried her head in her arm and the pillows to muffle her soft sobs.

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