Page 20 of Royal Rebel

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like teasing. He stared at her—the soft curve of her cheek, the rounded point of her small nose. She was perfect. The fact that they were both betrothed to others did not negate his feelings.

He swallowed. “Imara . . .”

Her spine straightened and she ran her palms over her lap again, smoothing the already smooth blanket. “Serene told me you came by often last night. You must not have slept much.”

The abrupt shift in topic was defensive. She’d sensed the change in his tone, and she didn’t want to talk about what had happened between them last night.

He needed to talk about it. Maybe not right now, but soon.

She was watching him, waiting for a reply. “I didn’t sleep much,” he said. Not at all, actually.

She frowned with obvious concern. “You can’t very well fall asleep during your coronation. You need to go get some rest.” When he opened his mouth, she raised her hand. “Don’t make me talk you into it. Serene already tried to argue about leaving me, and I managed to persuade her.”

He smiled slightly. “She may be more stubborn than I am.”

“Maybe?” Imara’s eyes rounded. “Serene’s more stubborn than everyone in this palace combined.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “I think you’re probably right.”

“Desfan Cassian, one thing you need to know is that I’malwaysright. Now, go get some sleep. Yahri will never let you hear the end of it if you yawn in the middle of your oaths.”

He wanted to stay with her, but she was obviously still tired, and he didn’t want to wear her out. Besides, she did have a point. Yahri would never forgive him if he made a fool of himself and the Cassian name during the ceremony.

He rose. “I’ll be back to check on you after the coronation.”

“Be sure to wear your crown,” she said, curling a loose tendril of dark hair around the back of one ear and not quite meeting his gaze. “I can’t wait to see it.”

He didn’t like the tone in her voice. It sounded . . . distant.

And distance was the last thing he wanted from Imara.

Chapter 5

Mia

Aknothadlodgedin Mia's gut when she'd watched Tyrell and Grayson leave together. Even hours later, that knot hadn’t loosened.

She prayed to the fates they wouldn’t attack each other.

As soon as the Kaelin brothers had disappeared from sight, Fletcher’s head had cranked toward her. “What happened to him?” the old guard asked, his eyes wide.

“His father.”

Fletcher muttered a curse as he shoved a hand through his gray hair. Beside him, Rena looked sick. “That man is no father,” he growled.

No. Henri Kaelin was many things, but he was not that.

An image of her own father came unbidden to her mind. A large man with broad hands and an even broader smile. A deep voice that resonated throughout a room—or her chest, when he’d held her close. A laugh that was so beautiful, the mere ghost of it had Mia’s eyes stinging.

Her father was dead. She hadn’t been able to truly process that fact when Grayson had told her, but it hit her now.

Her father was dead.

When she’d first been imprisoned, she’d cried so hard for him. She’d screamed for him. He hadn’t come, of course. He hadn’t even known she was alive.

She’d stopped crying out for him a long time ago, but her heart was screaming now. It wasn’t fair. After nine years of imprisonment, she was so close to the possibility of returning to Duvan, but she would never see her father again. He’d died only a handful of weeks ago—which seemed especially cruel. It wasn’t the worst part, though.

Her father had died because of her.

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