Page 91 of The Prince's Mage

But still… not a guarantee. Not like the way Nikias had spoken about it like it was.

She did not figure it out before she was being pushed forward again by her guards.Theywere not bound by a promise not to harm her.

Nikias stepped to the side as the guards forced her to her knees, but she kept her head raised high. The king rose from his throne and stepped down to narrow his eyes. He spoke slowly, overenunciating the sharp pointed syllables like she was an idiot. Or a child.

“They tell me you understand our tongue now.”

“Enough,” she spat out in her guttural, thick accent.

“You will speak if you want my mercy. You are charged with treason against the Runai crown, feeding information to our enemies, Chiefess Hypatia and her coalition of clans, and conspiring with them to abduct Prince Nikias so he could be used against us as a bargaining chip. Do you deny it?”

Her heart twisted. Hypatia didn’t even name which prince. And even though she was married to Gavril and spent the most time with him, everyone’s first thought was that she had been after Nikias. Unfortunately… the second she’d realized how much Gavril was worth to them, they were right.

“I deny only that I could commit treason against my enemies.” Marcella tried not to see Gavril out of the corner of her eyes. “You are not my king. Nikias is not my prince.”

The king raised an eyebrow. He then looked over to Gavril, who still had not looked up. When he pulled his gaze back to Marcella he said, “Despite your Sordes blood and corrupt vitae, in the eyes of our laws, you are Runai. That band on your wrist and those lines on your skin marks you as Runai. Marrying my son made you my subject.”

“Only when convenient to you.” Marcella’s lip curled up. “Not under your law when I am worthless. Under your law when I have use.”

“If you want to stay off the table, you will tell us everything you know about Hypatia, her army, and her strategies.”

So they did know about the army.

Marcella shook her head. “If I knew, I would not tell you. I will speak only to my—” She did not know the word for husband in their language. “Gavril.”

The crack echoed in the silence.

Marcella barely twisted so her shoulder broke her fall into the marble as sharp stinging pain flooded her cheek. The king drew back from where he’d backhanded her, but the silence didn’t last long. A scuffle sounded nearby, as well as someone trying to speak under their breath.

Marcella looked up past her curls to see Gavril was being held back by Aimilia and Nikias. Everyone was watching him as he kept trying to push past them, but the two of them were enough to overpower him and keep him in place. His mouth was open, but no sound was coming out.

His lips, however, were forming her name.

He had been silenced, but the runes seemed to be hidden under an illusion.

When she lifted her head, he stilled. Aimilia was whispering something in his ear. All she could see were his eyes burning and locked onto her for the first time since she entered the room.

He was furious. She knew him well enough for that. Presuming she had ever known anything about him at all. But still she believed she did.

But what was he furious at? His father hitting her? Her blatant disrespect after her lies? Both?

The king shot Gavril, Aimilia, and Nikias a severe look. When he was satisfied with Gavril’s lack of movement, or at least Nikias’ control over Gavril, he turned back to Marcella. He eyed her. “Does the Chiefess know of our preparations?”

“Speak only to Gavril. Only one I owe explanation to.”

He also owed her an explanation. She was not dying before she got it.

“At best, you are a traitor. At worst, you are a waste of air.” The king waved his hand at her dismissively. The guards grabbed her and hauled her back as the king turned back to Gavril and gestured him forward. “Come here, boy.”

Aimilia jerked back, pulling Gavril with her, but Nikias let go of Gavril, quickly darting around him. He grabbed Aimilia and pulled her away from Gavril, freeing him.

Gavril slowly moved forward, not looking at Marcella as he did so. She held her breath, but he didn’t rush toward her. He didn’t try to speak. He just obeyed.

He knelt in front of his father, lowering his head.

The king’s fingers moved through the air, forming a rune, and Marcella’s breath caught in her throat. What was happening? What was he doing? The rune was too complicated for Marcella’s limited understanding.

Gavril held his right arm out. The illusion on it fell away, revealing the lines he’d shown her before. The promise binding him and his father. The promise that meant he would get information out of her in order to keep her alive and off the table.

---