Page 86 of Royal Rebel

“I think we should do an afternoon at the beach,” Imara said, her fingertips warming against the porcelain sides of the steaming teacup. “The children should get outside, and we can recruit some of the palace staff to help with games and food.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. We could teach them some Devendran and Zennorian games. I’m sure Venn, Vera, and Bennick would volunteer to help.”

“And Hanna would be delighted, I’m sure,” Imara said, loud enough that her maid—sewing across the room—easily heard. Hanna rolled her eyes, but Imara could see a smile play at her lips. She tried not to dwell on why Hanna looked relieved.

Imara had not been herself the last five days. It was easier to pretend when she had visitors, but when she was alone, she felt a shadow creep over her. And it wasn’t solely due to her injury.

“I can make arrangements with Desfan,” Imara said, firmly shoving all memory of that shadow aside.

“Thank you, Imara. I appreciate your help with this.”

“Of course. It gives me something to do.”

Clare glanced at Imara’s quilt-covered legs. “Has the physician said when he’ll let you try standing?”

“He’d like me to spend a few more days in bed. It’s driving me mad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Imara took a sip of tea. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s my cousin. How dare she leave?” Her tone was light, but in truth, she reallywasupset Serene had left.

Serene should be here, courting Desfan, and Imara should be the one headed back to Zennor. She didn’t know when the switch had happened, but she was no longer content to hide from Skyer and her responsibilities at home. Perhaps it was getting injured and seeing how quickly life could change. Her father needed this alliance with the clans. He neededher.

A voice inside whispered it was something else that had changed her mind.Someoneelse.

Days later, she could still feel the press of Desfan’s lips against hers. She could see perfectly the heat in his deep brown eyes. Her skin tingled, even now, remembering the touch of his callused fingers.

Fates. She gripped the teacup more firmly and threw out every thought in her head that contained Desfan Cassian.

She was doing that with alarming frequency these days.

“. . . Desfan might.”

Imara jerked and looked to Clare. “What?”

The Devendran woman eyed her. “I just said Desfan might have some ideas about what foods the children will like best.”

“Oh. Yes. Good thinking.” Heat entered her cheeks. She tried to hide it by taking another drink of tea.

Clare’s lips parted, but before she could ask any questions, there was a knock on the suite’s outer door. Hanna left to go see who it was, and it wasn’t long before the object of Imara’s distraction strode in.

Desfan wore a deep blue kurta today, and his thick dark hair curled over his brow. His intent gaze found her immediately, and when he smiled, the appearance of a slight dimple in his right cheek nearly undid her. His jaw was covered in dark stubble, and she knew exactly how it felt when it rasped against her skin. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen.

And he was not hers.

“How are you feeling?” Desfan asked, his voice rich and deep.

Imara’s hands shook a little, so she lowered her teacup to balance it on her good knee. “Better every day,” she said, attempting a lightness she didn’t feel.

Desfan’s eyes softened in a way that was completely dangerous. “Good.”

Her insides melted.

Bennick and Karim had entered the room behind Desfan, but Imara only noticed them when Bennick stepped closer to Clare. “Are you ready to return to the suite?” he asked.

She nodded and stood, offering to take Imara’s cup.

She almost kept it, just for something to hold on to. But with the tremble in her fingers, it was probably safer to relinquish it.

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