“You think all of that is because Nikias is onto you?” Gavril asked.
“I don’t know, but it’s certainly not helping me. The less of his attention I have, the safer I am. The only other explanation is that something is wrong with him, and considering the timing of when it all started, it most likely has to do with whatever your insane cousin did to him, no offense, Marcella. Hypatia must have done something and the healers haven’t figured it out—which he would barely let them near him afterwards, so of course they haven’t. That is hazardous to all of us, if he’s making completely petty and illogical decisions like not giving me the post near Mitis and taking me off the patrol schedule.”
Marcella seemingly took no offense as she was smothering her laugh, but what was amusing about what Aimilia said, she had no idea.
Gavril braced his arm on his knee. “Forgive me for even daring to submit this possibility, but have you considered that maybe—just maybe—Nikias is talking to you and approaching you because he thinks the two of you are friends after everything that happened a few months ago?”
Aimilia didn’t know if she could forgive such an insinuation, even coming from her dearest friend and former love of her life.
“Then Hypatia must have damaged his mind beyond repair if he thinks that’s a possibility.”
But even as Aimilia spoke the words, Nikias’ presence in her doorway the day of Gavril and Marcella’s wedding, thanking her, rose up from her memories. She couldn’t recall everything he’d said. She’d been more focused on her racing heart and every instinct in her screaming to run before he arrested her. She pushed the memory away. It wasn’t relevant.
She said, “If so, it would certainly justify having him examined for competency.”
Gavril turned to Marcella, shaking his head. His wife returned his look with a grin.
Ugh. They were revolting.
But more importantly, annoying. What were they communicating with just looks? What weren’t they saying?
“Aimilia, maybe it is I who does not understand,” Marcella said, parsing through her words. “You two were not friends before? Why can you not be now?”
“Because it’sNikias.I will admit, he is… complicated, but he’s still Nikias. I’m glad the two of you have managed to find a way to have a peaceable relationship with him—helped by the distance, I presume—but even before all of that, Nikias and I couldn’t be in the same room without us trying to take the other person’s head off. The only times we’ve ever worked together or gotten along was all because of the only thing we have in common.” Aimilia gestured at Gavril.
Marcella’s gaze softened when she looked at her husband, and Gavril ducked his head. Aimilia swallowed even as her throat thickened as the past came rising back up. They were just facts; she would not let them rule her. This was about Nikias.
“Gavril was the only thing strong enough for us to ever temporarily set aside our hatred. Which brings me back to Ihatehim.” Aimilia couldn’t help her sharp laugh. “I have hated Nikias for years, and he knows that. He hates me too. As he should—I worked very hard when we were younger to be a thorn in hisside, not even counting how last year he manipulated me and deceived me into helping him, and I repaid him by getting in his way and trying to foil his plans. Nikias and I coming together to help the two of you and then negotiate with Hypatia doesn’t change that. Complex situations don’t change that. Now that all of that’s over, things should go back to how they were. The two of us avoiding each other as much as possible unless required in order to help Gavril, and now you, Marcella.”
“And if he doesn’t want that?” Marcella asked. “If he wants… more?”
Had she even understood a word of what Aimilia just said? How could that even be a legitimate question?
“He should want that. The rumors about him remarrying have only been passed around more and more since we returned.” Aimilia couldn’t collect any gossip without hearing about Nikias’ alleged remarrying. It almost turned her off gathering any. “Everyone at the banquets whisper about if that night will be the night he proposes. I can only assume the rumors haven’t reached him, given how much he hates gossip; otherwise, he would never go to another one and kill the rumors himself.”
Gavril shook his head, turning to look at the window. Then he turned back, a slight grin on his lips. “I see now. You’re just upset him talking to you in public is only fueling the rumors that you’re the one he’ll propose to.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she’d wished the two of them sparred more often so she could get him back for that.
“I dislike being included simply because it’s so absurd. I don’t know how they’ve all forgotten about the way he was with Faustina, but clearly they have if they think it’s even a possibility.”
Aimilia could and would criticize Nikias until she was cold in the ground, but even she could not deny that only the deepest ofloves that possesses a man could drive him to the depths Nikias had sunk to in Faustina’s name. The man he’d been when he’d had her…
“But is he?” Marcella blinked, then said, “I mean, he is not? He is not the same man.”
“He’s worse.”
At her words, Gavril reached for Marcella, running his fingers over the faint scar on her arm that traced her vitae path. Marcella put her hand over Gavril’s. “Maybe you should speak with him. Ask him.”
Aimilia scowled. “Oh, I will be. He’s gone too far this time. I don’t care if his brain is in shreds because of Hypatia. He will be answering for giving away my post.”
As terrified of him as she might be, she’d never give him the satisfaction of getting away with it.
“Is it truly that bad to stay here in Areator a little longer?” Gavril asked. “You’ve never wanted to leave until now.”
Aimilia sat on the edge of the table, lowering her voice once more and her gaze with it so all she could see were her hands. “I haven’t heard an update on my grandfather in a month. My mother hasn’t replied, and there’s no telling what that means. My grandfather… he’s only been getting worse. I don’t know if it’ll be this year, or in the next few, but one thing is certain. He’s going to die.”
Her throat was tightening and her vision blurring despite her best efforts to rein it in. A hand brushed her arm, then an arm wrapped around her, and she looked up to see wild black curls as Marcella left Gavril’s side to pull Aimilia into an embrace.
