Page 43 of Royal Rebel

“The Mortisian prince is . . . yourbrother?” Fletcher sounded strangled.

Her fingers twisted in her skirt, her voice wavering a little. “I am Meerah Jema Cassian.” The words fell flat. Probably because she wasn’t sure if shewasMeerah anymore.

Meerah is dead.

She shifted her weight on the bed, uncomfortable with the echoing thought. Her gaze dropped to her covered hand. “I’m the last surviving seraijah of Mortise,” she said, her voice quieter than before.

The room was utterly silent.

She could think of nothing else to say, so even though the silence was blistering, she kept her lips pressed together.

Nothing happened for several long moments, until Fletcher rasped out, “We’re all dead.”

She shot him a look, surprised by the raw edge in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“Mia, if you escape . . . if you return home . . .” Fletcher’s eyes were a little wild, his face horribly pale. “Your brother will retaliate. There will be a war. Rydenic families will be slaughtered. And we certainly won’t be welcomed into the castle—he’ll kill us for assisting in your imprisonment.”

“Desfan wouldn’t do that.” But hesitation gripped her. The last time she had seen her brother, he was eleven years old. Who knew who he was now, or what he would do? Certainly not her. She tried to set that fear and doubt aside. “I wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you. You have protected me, and you would have aided in my return. You’ll be rewarded.”

Fletcher shook his head. “That’s not how anyone would see it. I’ve been your prison guardfor nine years—not your bodyguard.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

He grimaced, his eyes uncharacteristically hard. “I never stopped them, Mia. I heard the beatings they gave you in the beginning, and I never spoke out. I stood on the other side of that door, and I ignored your cries for help.”

Devon looked away, his body tense.

Fletcher was shaking. His words were a little hoarse as he said, “You were an innocent child, and I was too afraid to help you. I was a coward, and because of that, you suffered.”

Her chest burned. “Fletcher, you couldn’t have done anything. If you had interfered with the king’s orders, you would have been killed.”

“Yes,” he rasped, the sound full of desperate agreement. “But I would havedonesomething. Instead, I listened to your pain—your fear—and I did nothing.”

“I don’t blame you.”

He choked on a hoarse laugh. “Of course you don’t. You always think the best of those around you. You imagine our hands have been tied, but I held a key. No brother could overlook that. I am an enemy to him, in every conceivable way. I amyourenemy. And yet you don’t admit it, even to yourself. You see me as a victim. You seeeveryoneas a victim. You love Grayson, for fates’ sake!”

She flinched.

Fletcher was not done. “We can’t go to Mortise. We’ll be arrested. And if you return, a war will come—”

“There will be a war anyway,” Devon interrupted. His gaze was firmly on Fletcher now, his expression grim. “We all know the king’s great war is coming. But we have a chance to be on the right side of it. To do the right thing—finally, after all these years.” The physician turned his attention to Mia, and she could read so many regrets in his eyes. “I will do anything I can to help you.”

She reached out with her good hand and squeezed one of his. “Thank you.”

Emotion rippled across his face. He stood, letting her hand slip away. He sank to his knees in front of her and bowed his head. “Your Highness,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent.

Mia hadn’t expected that. She wasn’t sure how to react. Her cheeks warmed.

“Please don’t,” she said, her voice thick. “There’s no need to do that.”

Devon’s head lifted, though he remained on his knees. “There is every need. You are the first royal I have ever wanted to kneel before.”

Her eyes misted. “Thank you.” The words were inadequate, but they were all she had.

The corner of Devon’s mouth rose. “You have my loyalty, Princess.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Fletcher fall to his knees. He bent his entire body, his head bowed so low his forehead touched the floor.

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