Page 193 of Royal Rebel

Liam’s mouth quirked. “For the gold, I’d imagine.” Before Desfan could roll his eyes, the prince continued. “However, it’s worth remembering that Amil wasn’t working alone that night.”

Desfan’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“Amil coordinated the attack because he wanted you dead. At least, that’s my understanding of events. I wasn’t up there, of course, but from what I’ve gathered, that was his main goal. He needed help, though, and he was fine with the added chaos of having your treasury raided and your prison invaded—but those weren’thisgoals. So, whose were they?”

Desfan felt his brows pull together. “The Devendran rebels came to the prison.” He’d heard the story of Clare’s encounter with the rebels—one in particular, who had tried to kill her. “They were probably looking specifically for their own people, but anyone who might be an enemy to Mortise was worth freeing.”

Liam tipped his head. “Right. Which is why they were giving me a guided escort out of the prison.”

“You know,” Desfan said, “there’s a part of me that wondered if somehow you’d schemed the whole thing as an escape.”

Liam’s eyes shined. “If I’d planned the escape, Serjan, I wouldn’t still be here.”

Instinct told Desfan that Liam wasn’t merely boasting. He cleared his throat. “So, if the Devendrans wanted the prison emptied, and Amil wanted me dead and my court terrorized . . . Who wanted my gold? Like everything else that night, all of them would have benefited from stealing from me, but who would have made that their primary goal?” He eyed Liam. “The last time we spoke, you told me to follow the trail of olcain beyond Sahvi. You said it would lead me to other enemies—to Zennorians allied with your father. You said they were a mix of nobles, clan members, and criminals like Sahvi. If all of this is tied together, then the attack on my treasury could be tied back to Ryden.”

“No,” Liam said at once. “I would have known about a plan like that.”

That was probably true. But Liam could be lying. “It’s well known that Ryden is not a wealthy kingdom,” Desfan said. “And war is expensive.”

“True,” Liam acknowledged. “But what few people realize is that the people of Ryden are poor because my father—and my grandfather before him—have taxed the people ruthlessly in order to make this war a reality. Weapons, armor, soldiers, food, training—all of it has already been paid for. My father doesn’t need your gold.”

A chill swept down his spine. “Fine. Then what other explanation do you have for Sahvi having my gold?”

“Criminals tend to be a greedy sort. Perhaps Sahvi simply took an opportunity offered to him by Amil.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

Liam lifted one shoulder. “Without speaking with him, I’m not sure what more you want from me. Sahvi would steal from a starving child; stealing from you would have been an easy choice for him. Now, what he intends to do with that gold, I can’t say. He’s already in the business of olcain, which is extremely lucrative. Not only is it the most expensive drug in Eyrinthia, it’s also highly addictive. You know personally what that feels like. From the first taste, your body craves it. That want never fully goes away, which means the sellers benefit greatly. By selling once to a man, they sell a thousand times.”

Desfan’s jaw tightened. “As fascinating as your views on olcain are, I think it’s time you gave me more names. I want to know who is working behind Sahvi in Zennor.”

“I can’t just tell you. You must discover the truth for yourself.”

Desfan exhaled, long and hard. “You’re extremely irritating.”

Liam flashed a smile. “I’ve been called much worse.”

Karim shifted, his voice low as he spoke for the first time. “This has been useless. We would have more luck asking a Zennorian.”

“I don’t think Imara knows much about the criminal goings-on of her kingdom,” Liam said easily.

“No,” Karim said. “But Skyer might.”

Desfan instantly rebelled against the idea, but if the Kabu Clan leader could shed any light on—

“Skyer ishere?” Liam hissed, cutting into Desfan’s thoughts.

One look at the Rydenic prince, and Desfan almost flinched back in his chair. Liam looked . . .terrifying. There wasn’t another word for it. His eyes—tinged with humor only a second ago—were black as pitch and blazing hotter than the sun. His harsh expression was deeper than rage. Sharper than shock. Far more than simple hatred.

Wariness thinned Desfan’s breath.

Karim must not have felt the same, because he snorted. “I suppose the guards aren’t talking as freely around you anymore.”

Liam’s gaze snapped to Desfan. “You must tell me everything. Immediately. Why is Skyer here? When did he arrive? Where is heright now?”

The edge in his voice made the fine hairs on Desfan’s body rise. “Why?” he asked. “Is he a threat?”

Liam laughed once, the sound harsh and cold. “Skyer is one of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty men I have ever known—and I’m the spawn of Henri Kaelin. You can’t trust Skyer. Not for an instant.”

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