Oh, thank goodness. Now they could pretend this never happened and wait for the gossip to turn?—
“But there’s nothing to be done about it now,” Nikias said. “We’ve already made a spectacle, so all that’s left is to clean it up as tidily as possible.”
Where was he going with this?
“I trust that you at least see the practical reasons behind our union, and maybe if we move forward slowly—” Nikias was stepping toward her again.
He couldn’t be serious.
He was getting too close. What would he try if he reached her? But when she tried to back away, there was nowhere left to go and her body started to fall back. She let out a startled yelp, arms flying forward, but it was too late to regain her balance.
Maybe she would be put out of her misery via a cracked skull after all.
Nikias lunged forward, his hand closed around her forearm, and Aimilia grabbed his other arm with her hand, steadying herself. He pulled her toward him, grip tightening on her arm.
His hands on her burned. The scars left from his religo lines were rough against her skin. His love for Faustina was branded into him even in her death.
Practical. All he wanted was practical. Of course he did. After loving Faustina the way he had, he would never have any room in his heart left for another woman. And after the way she’d loved Gavril, of course he would assume she was like him and practical was all she could hope for now.
“Aimilia? Are you—” His voice died when her grip on him tightened as she got her feet steady under her and looked up at him, fire burning in her eyes.
“If you think I’m changing my answer, then you’ve truly lost what little sanity you had left. Let me make myself as clear as I can possibly be. I am not marrying you. Not today. Nottomorrow. Not ever.” Aimilia ripped herself out of his grip. “I don’t care how logical you think it is. You are the last man I would ever willingly call my husband. I pity the next woman you’ll set your sights on and try to argue your way into marrying, but since your biggest concern in taking a wife is just having a woman to give you heirs, I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who is willing. Now, finally, we are on the same page. Good night.”
Aimilia moved past him, ducking out of his range of reach, but he didn’t move. Even as she paused at the peristyle to go back into the palace and looked back, he hadn’t moved. He was as still as a statue; the only indication he was real was the slight breeze ruffling his cloak and hair.
Even if she miraculously woke up one day and ceased despising him with every inch of her being, she could never marry him with her treason hanging over her head. She would never willingly marry a man who would always be in love with a ghost.
Aimilia would not be anyone’s second choice.
Especially not Nikias’.
Chapter 6
NIKIAS
“Iwithdraw. You owe her your life. Be grateful for it. And you’re going to show it.”
Nikias’ vision was blurry but his brother’s voice was clear.
The challenge was over.
He was being spared.
The throbbing, fiery pain tearing through his arm overwhelmed him and his breath came out in heavy, labored breaths as he clenched his jaw. The light pouring from the rune beneath them faded and through his hazy vision he could see Gavril picking up the Sordes girl who had just begged for Nikias’ life.
The same girl Nikias had just had on their healer’s tables and under their knives to suffer for the crime of looking like the Desero demon.
Why?
How?
He didn’t understand. Where had she come from? How could she even have made it out to the courtyard in her weakened state?
But more importantly,why?
Why would she ever want him to live?
“Mercy.”
