Page 58 of The Prince's Mage

No matter how much she loved him.

* * *

The next morning, Marcella and Gavril went back to the library like nothing had happened. Aimilia joined them with slightly puffy eyes and a few smudges of something Marcella had heard Inimicus women used to slightly alter their appearances. Using illusions for everything would be a waste of magic, and most Inimicus weren’t as skilled as Gavril was to be able to keep them up like that.

It wasn’t something she’d seen any clan women use, not even their main branches. When the subject had come up, Marcella remembered Hypatia laughing at the Inimicus women for it, thinking it the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Marcella thought it was a little blasphemous. They were what they were from Asentai, and using magic or materials to appear to be something else was like spitting in her face for her gift.

As much as Marcella might want to, she would never alter her appearance to look less like Hypatia. For whatever purpose, Asentai had made Marcella in Hypatia’s image.

No matter how much Marcella despised her own face some days.

Still, Aimilia gave them a strained smile and pretended like it wasn’t obvious even under her cosmetics that she’d been crying.

Gavril gave her a soft, friendly smile, but she just brushed him off as she swept over to them and spoke in their language, “Well, shall we get to it?”

Gavril nodded in response. “Yes.”

Marcella tried to follow their conversation, but her hands still shook when she placed them on the table, so instead she hid them in her lap and refused to look at Gavril because when she did all she saw was the horrors from her nightmare. She heard Nikias’ name more often than she managed to translate any of the context surrounding it.

She knew where his study was. She needed to finalize her plan. Get the Heart. Get Nikias. Escape the city.

Pray her feeble body could manage it.

As they spoke, she did catch “hallway,” “training grounds,” “bedroom,” “corner,” and “stupid.” “Stupid” mostly came from Aimilia.

Gavril threw his hands up and slumped into his seat, and Marcella finally started paying more attention. “Nothing—good enough for you—didn’t believe us—some illusion—going to get through—”

“—need a plan—corners and waiting—walk by is not a plan—place—corner him—storm off—” Aimilia brightened immediately and snapped her fingers. “How did I not think of this before? Oh, we’re so stupid!—Later this week—palace—banquet in one of the gardens—cast it, scorch the stone—examine it—Marcella touch—wrist doesn’t—response—vitae—illusion—proof.”

Marcella perked up at the mention of her name.

Gavril immediately narrowed his eyes. “—plan is for me to bring Marcella—parents’ court—everyone hates her—wander around—knows how long until—Nikias down—use her to prove there’s no active illusion—”

Aimilia raised an eyebrow. “—think any of them are going to raise a hand—saw what you did to Nikias, and if they didn’t see it, they heard about it—seen his broken arm—go to the healers for—know who she is—first time being presented—wearing your cloak—reminder to be left alone. Besides, she won’t be alone—attached to her hip—not you, I promise I’ll be her little guard for you—good enough job so far—If they see me being pleasant—no excuse for the rest of them—people after all.”

If Marcella was understanding this right… this could be another chance for her to corner Nikias and capture him even outside his study. She hadn’t solved the problem of what she would do if his study was locked when she attempted it.

Could she get Nikias alone? Could she get the Heart too?

Gavril shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it—family won’t have respect for the law and will torture her while she wears my cloak, how can I expect the rest of our people not to follow that example?—after her—say all kinds of vile things—if she doesn’t know the translation—mea uxorem—protect her from that too.”

This might be her only chance where Gavril would even let her near Nikias for Aimilia’s plan. It solved her problem of Gavril not letting her near him and the problem of Marcella not being able to get away from Gavril for long.

She wasn’t strong, but she knew Gavril wasn’t going to raise a hand to her. Nikias couldn’t. If she did it right—likely using all the vitae she could muster up—she could knock Gavril out and take Nikias.

Marcella leaned forward and spoke in their language. “I want to.”

Gavril and Aimilia stopped and turned to her. She had long since grown used to them speaking like she wasn’t even there when they spoke in their language despite openly acknowledging she could understand most of what they said.

Marcella could hear her thick, horrid accent but continued, “Aimilia’s plan. I want to. Don’t care about rest. Inimicus don’t deserve the respect of my fear. Also—” She looked over to Aimilia. “Cannot be as bad as she.”

Aimilia laughed. “Ha! Shewantsto go!”

“She insulted you while saying so, don’t look so smug,” Gavril snapped but Aimilia was still laughing. He turned back to Marcella and spoke in her language, “Marcella, do you remember the soldier—the one I silenced who attacked you?”

She would never forget it.

She nodded. “So?”

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