Page 87 of Royal Rebel

Clare promised to return later, and then she and Bennick left. Karim wished Imara well, and then he also disappeared.

Hanna hadn’t returned, which meant Desfan and Imara were alone.Blast.

Her heart raced, but she tried not to reveal any unease as she resettled against the mound of pillows at her back. She needed to say something—anything to fill the sudden silence.

“You aren’t wearing your crown,” she blurted.

His expression grew puzzled. “No, I’m not.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she attempted to ignore that. “Well, I told you before the coronation that I wanted to see it. I’m beginning to think it doesn’t exist—or you lost it.” Fates, what was wrong with her? She needed to stop talking.

The corner of Desfan’s mouth lifted. “I’ll wear it sometime, I promise.”

That charming grin could be her undoing. Imara cleared her throat. “How did Liam’s interrogation go?”

Desfan stepped closer to the bed and lowered into the chair Clare had vacated. He was close enough she could smell his unique scent. Spicy citrus, with a hint of the sea. “Did Clare tell you about that?” he asked.

“She mentioned it.”

Desfan raked a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. “It was . . . interesting. I actually wanted to ask you a few questions, if you feel up to it.”

“Please.” It would give her something else to focus on other than how much she wanted to runherfingers through those dark locks.

Desfan told her everything Liam had shared, along with the discussion Desfan, Karim, and Bennick had had afterward. Though he glanced over his fears about Grayson, Imara saw them clearly.

“Grayson will bring Meerah back,” she said, her voice soft but sure.

Desfan exhaled. “I wish I could share your faith.”

“You can trust him.”

“Can I?” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think I trust him, and that’s why I sent him. But maybe I only sent him because I didn’t have another choice.”

“You let him go because it was the right decision. Don’t torture yourself over it.”

His eyes remained serious, but the corner of his mouth quirked. “You make it sound so easy.”

Imara couldn’t control the impulse to reach out and set a hand on his knee. “When Grayson was preparing to leave, I forged a letter for him—in your hand.”

He stared. “You—”

“Yes. I’m very good at that sort of thing. But before you decide to arrest me, let me finish.” She took a breath. “I told Grayson to give it to Captain Zadir once he and Meerah were safely on board the pirate’s ship. The letter instructed Zadir to take Grayson wherever he chose, and then deliver Meerah to Duvan.”

Desfan’s chest rose with a sharp breath. “You . . .” He didn’t seem able to finish.

She increased the pressure on his knee. “He didn’t take it, Desfan. I gave him a way out, and he refused it. He will save Meerah, and he’ll return—just as he promised you. He’ll have a cell, or a trial, or whatever else you dictate, because he loves her. There’s no other explanation.”

A vein at his temple pulsed. “I’m not thrilled you did that.”

“I know.”

“I should probably askhowyou forged that letter.”

“Or you could let me remain mysterious.” She flashed a smile, but it faded quickly. She withdrew her hand. “I am sorry if my actions upset you, but please understand. Grayson is my friend, and he saved my life. I owed him the same favor.”

“Your loyalty is admirable, but also reckless. What if heisan enemy?”

“You don’t believe that. Not completely. Or you wouldn’t have sent him to save Meerah.”

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