Page 60 of The Prince's Mage

She’d done an excellent job during the day pretending she hadn’t realized just how much Gavril meant to her and just how much it was going to hurt when she lost him. But now that she was holding him she couldn’t pretend anymore.

But dwelling on it didn’t change it.

“Marcella?Deliciae?”As he spoke, he started to shift and she didn’t realize she had tightened her grip on him until he’d stopped moving, settling for just turning his head up to look up at her in the moonlight. “I did not mean to offend. It just—it was such aMarcellaway to say it.”

“You did not,” she whispered. “I was just… thinking. About tomorrow. I wish… I wish I was more eloquent in your tongue or even in mine so that I could help.”

She was lying through her teeth.

He sighed. “My brother is my fight. All you have to do is touch the stone fountain after I scorch it to prove there is no vitae there sustaining an illusion. That is all. That is all I want you to do. He does not deserve to even breathe in your presence. If he so much as looks at you, much less tries to address you—” Gavril’s hand on her waist tightened as his voice dropped into a growl.

They didn’t really talk about Nikias, not directly. Early on when Gavril started talking about his life, he stuttered and hesitated and tried to leave him out, but when she never so much as blinked at the mention of him, he stopped avoiding it. But they never really talkedabouthim. Gavril just mentioned him because his existence could not be ignored in his life.

And it was clear, despite what she’d observed, they’d been close once.

Nikias had taken care of Gavril when their parents hadn’t. He’d helped him with his injuries, but Nikias was not as good at healing as Gavril was. Inimicus runes—by the nature of requiring two hands to cast—did not allow mages to heal themselves easily. It’s why they had a whole order of heretics. So Nikias had helped Gavril learn illusions to hide the wounds because he could not fix them.

“You cannot hate him forever.”

“Watch me.”

“He’s your brother. You can pretend you don’t remember, but the little you have told me… He loves you. I—” Marcella swallowed her words. It would do neither of them any good.

She hated Nikias.

She would never be able not to hate him for what he did to her, but she wasn’t the little brother he’d done it to protect.

And Gavril’s love for her could not last a lifetime against what she was about to do. Nikias was family. She was…

Just Marcella.

No matter how beautiful an illusion of her Gavril cast with his words. Devotion to a falsity would always falter against the truth.

“He has not had his arm healed. He made the promise to you.” She remembered what she’d overheard. Despite her hatred of Nikias, he’d sounded genuine when he’d said he wanted to fix things. “Do you not… He wants your forgiveness. Can you really withhold it for the rest of your life?”

His fingers shifted, brushing over her hip. “Do not worry,mea spes,deliciae, I will not fall for it. He can want it. He can try, and I will use it to get what I want.”

She wanted to believe him. And she believed he earnestly meant it.

But she had seen his record.

And his best intentions had scarred her before, so she had to scar him first. How much she loved him could not be a factor.

When she woke up back in her room, the door to Gavril’s room closed—he had a habit of carrying her back or slipping out of her room before she woke up again after dawn—it was because the other door was flying open and Aimilia stood in her doorway, speaking in Marcella’s tongue, “Up! Tonight plan. Today prepare.”

Marcella lifted her head and shook out her curls before glancing back at Gavril’s door. But before she could even ask a question, Aimilia was grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to her feet. “No Gavril. Not until you are fixed.”

“Fixed?” Marcella blinked.

“Mess you are,” Aimilia said as she started pulling her toward the door. “No Gavril until no mess.”

Alright. Aimilia had a point.

Marcella got her legs under her and let Aimilia pull her out the door. Aimilia said, “First. Eat.”

Marcella couldn’t imagine where they were going to eat, paying more attention to the hallways and layout, adding it to her mental map as Aimilia took her to a new section of the palace. Despite her efforts, or maybe because of Gavril’s coddling and Marcella’s inability to convince Aimilia to take longer walks through the whole palace, she still wasn’t completely solid on her escape route.

Marcella prayed that Asentai would guide her out of this labyrinth.

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