Page 150 of Royal Rebel

Imara tensed. “The treaty was signed. You can’t nullify it now.”

“Can’t we? Every promise in there is contingent on Serene marrying Desfan, and she’s not even here. If she decided not to return . . . well, the treaty could be voided.”

She stared at her cousin, trying to guess his game. The fact that he was telling her this told her one thing—Devendra wasn’t seriously considering pulling back from their alliance with Mortise. No, he was trying to intimidate her. Scare her. Or—more likely—he expected her to run to Desfan and tell him everything.

He was trying to get Desfan to fear him.

Her voice was soft as she said, “You truly want control of that refugee camp, don’t you?”

His eyes went flat. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with what I just said.”

“Oh, I think it has everything to do with what you just told me.” She set her jaw. “Whatever your plans for Salvation are, I can assure you that you won’t achieve them. Desfan won’t let you. Cleverer men than you have tried to manipulate him, threaten him, or even destroy him, and they haven’t succeeded.”

Grandeur studied her, the air between them tense. “You’re a staunch defender of him,” he finally said. “I certainly hope your betrothed never finds out. Men from the clans are very possessive, aren’t they?”

The corner of Imara’s mouth tipped up. “Are you done?”

Grandeur shook his head, but he pushed up from the chair. “Good day, Imara.”

She didn’t bother to return the same.

Desfan joined her later that afternoon, bringing a light luncheon with him. While they ate, Imara informed him of her morning’s visitors. His frown was actually quite impressive as she detailed Grandeur’s visit—and she hadn’t even told him her cousin’s parting words, since they’d been aimed at her.

“I should send extra guards to Salvation,” Desfan said. “I don’t think he would dare attempt anything, but I would prefer to take precautions anyway.”

“I think that’s wise. Though, as you say, I don’t think he would dare try anything so blatant.”

They were all quite locked in this political box; none of them could risk making accusations without proof, but proof was hard to come by.

Desfan popped a purple grape into his mouth and nodded to the papers beside her. “Have you learned anything more about Vakesh?”

She embraced the change in topic eagerly. “There’s still a lot to decipher, but I did learn his last mission was in Ryden.” She lifted a small piece of parchment and passed it to Desfan.

He took it, and his eyes widened. “This is my father’s handwriting.”

She nodded. “He wrote it after Vakesh’s return.” She quieted then, letting him read the words she’d already memorized:Vakesh Kazzo was found near the Rydenic border. He was badly injured and cannot tell us anything of what he learned in the north.

When Desfan lowered the page, Imara said, “It’s not much more than we already knew, but it at least gave me an idea of where he was.” She gestured to the stack of papers. “Some of these were written by the spymaster at the time, and some are notes in Vakesh’s hand. His last mission was perhaps a dozen years ago. There’s no exact date to go by, but I think that’s the timeline. And I think Vakesh had gone to Ryden before—it’s implied in the way the spymaster made his reports.”

“Don’t let her evil touch us,” Desfan mused. “That’s what Vakesh said to me. He was very focused on aher.Do you think he might have been investigating Queen Iris?”

Imara frowned. “I haven’t found anything that indicates he ever got as far north as Lenzen, and I haven’t seen any mentions of the royal family. According to your current spymaster, they’ve never succeeded in getting spies deep within Ryden—certainly never in the castle.”

Desfan grunted. “I don’t suppose he might have crossed the Poison Queen’s path at some other place?”

“It’s possible, but I doubt it. At least from what I’ve heard of Iris Kaelin, she rarely leaves the castle.”

Desfan passed back his father’s note and straightened in his chair. “Well, I can’t think of any otherhersin Ryden that would inspire that level of fear. Vakesh was quite panicked.”

“Well, this was years ago—perhaps she moved around more back then.” Imara paused, making a brief calculation. “Twelve years ago, Grayson would have been . . . six?” Fates, what would a six-year-old Black Viper have looked like? She had a hard time imagining. “He may not remember anything going on in Ryden at the time,” she continued. “But we could always ask him when he gets back.”

“Or we could try asking Liam. As the spymaster of Ryden, he might have a better idea.”

“He probably would,” Imara agreed. “But even still, this all happened a long time ago. It truly might not be relevant anymore. I’ll continue to pick through these codes and notes, though.”

“Thank you. It’s more a matter of curiosity at this point. If I could learn a little more, I might be able to put some of these questions to rest.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

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