Page 64 of The Prince's Mage

The courtyard was beautiful, Marcella could not deny the Inimicus that. Every speck of marble was perfectly polished and the capital and abacus were clearly crafted by expert Solitus artisans. The entablatures were breathtaking, lit by the different colors of white moonlight, golden brazier fire, and glowing orange runes. Long tables were set up around the edges, overflowing with food while servants walked around filling wine glasses.

Their pristine appearances and beautiful scenes were just illusions hiding the hideous atrocities they committed in the depths of their palace.

At least they had until Gavril had stopped it.

In the palace. Those tables still existed elsewhere in the city. She could not forget that. Gavril was the best of them. He alone could not atone for the rest of them.

Instead of coming in through the main entrance, Gavril had led her around the side and they slipped into the courtyard without catching everyone’s attention.

Her heart had swelled when she realized what he was doing and why. Her stubborn pride had blinded her for so long. She’d convinced herself everything was a lie or an illusion when all he’d done was try to protect her.

She loved him. She loved him so much, but it didn’t change anything.

Besides, he deserved better than her.

Gavril leaned in and asked her in her language, “Hungry? Thirsty?”

She shook her head. Her stomach was far too twisted up into knots over what she was going to do for her to even think of eating or drinking.

He squeezed her arm, hers wrapped through his but both hidden beneath his cloak. “Alright, let’s just get Nikias and get out of here.”

But before they could make it another step further, a voice she hadn’t heard in a long time called out, “PrincepsGavril!”

Gavril’s brow pinched immediately and he let out a sigh before he turned to face the man who was coming up to them. The older commander that had been on the road with them. The one with the same hair color as Aimilia.

Gavril gave him a polite nod and said in their tongue, “Commander Cyprian, it’s been a while. Good to see you again.”

Marcella had the distinct impression it was not good to see him again.

Commander Cyprian nodded and his eyes immediately landed on Marcella pressed against Gavril’s side, his cloak covering her shoulders and most of her peplos. He said, “Huh, I guess I was wrong. I didn’t think you could tame thesordidus lupa, but here she is, almost looking—”

Marcella didn’t know the last word, but she understood the general meaning.

Gavril immediately stepped in front of Marcella, putting himself between her and the commander and snapping, “Show some respect and shut your mouth.”

Commander Cyprian narrowed his eyes. “What do you care about respect?—any when you lied—performing—”

There were a few words Marcella didn’t get, but she was fairly certain he was talking about the strange ritual that had bonded her and Gavril. The man could hold a grudge, apparently.

But… if Gavril was busy arguing with the commander, this could be her chance to slip away and grab Nikias first—

Red hair bounded up to them and immediately an arm was wrapped around Commander Cyprian’s arm as Aimilia beamed up at him and said, “Uncle Cyprian! There you are! Oh, andPrincepsGavril and Marcella. Look at her; didn’t I do an excellent job? Practically looks like one of us, doesn’t she?”

Oh. That explained the obnoxious red hair both of them shared. Although Aimilia’s was slightly less obnoxious.

As Aimilia immediately dominated the conversation, she caught Marcella and Gavril’s gazes and winked. Marcella had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning.

The red-haired girl had grown on her since their first few encounters.

As the banquet went on, Marcella tried to keep an eye out for Nikias, but every time she did, she would see someone looking at her and hear them whispering about Gavril’slupa.

Every time Gavril heard it, his jaw clenched and he immediately turned and glared at whoever had spoken and they went hurrying away. The third time it happened, she asked in her tongue, “Your people, they have called melupasince I was taken, starting with your soldiers. What does it mean?”

Gavril’s jaw only clenched tighter as he looked around again for Nikias and muttered, “It is beneath you to even acknowledge it by knowing what it means. Do not worry about it.”

“I knowsordidus, comes from Sordes, so filth or filthy, but fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Aimilia. She called me that plenty of times and she likes me learning your tongue.” Marcella immediately stopped looking for Nikias and started looking for Aimilia again, still chatting her uncle’s ear off—likely purposefully driving him up the wall if Marcella had to guess.

Gavril’s hand was on her arm, causing her to stumble back into him, and he said, “Fine. If you must know. It means she-wolf.”

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