Page 92 of Royal Rebel

“Sir Grannard sent a guard to me,” Karim explained to Bennick. “He knew we’d want to know.”

Desfan hadn’t looked away from Imara. “What happened? What did he do to you?”

“He tried to suffocate me with my pillow.” Imara’s throat flexed as she swallowed. “Kaz interrupted, and they fought. Then Jekem threw a knife at me, Kaz put himself in front of it, and Jekem jumped out the window.”

Desfan flicked a glance toward Kaz, who was only half-stitched and still bleeding. Then he focused back on Imara. “You’re getting ten Mortisian guards. Karim will handpick them.”

“Thank you, Serjan,” Kaz said quickly.

Imara’s mouth snapped shut.

Desfan tightened his hold on her hand. “Your leg—”

“The stitches tore a little,” Imara cut in before he could fully form his question. “The physician has already tended me.”

Desfan didn’t look relieved. In fact, he still looked livid.

Frankly, Bennick was a little surprised by the serjan’s strong reaction to the attack. He and Imara were friends, clearly, but now Bennick wondered if the serjan felt more for the Zennorian princess.

Or he simply feared King Zaire’s retaliation if his daughter was murdered in Desfan’s palace.

Bennick cleared his throat. “Serjan, Imara was just about to tell us what Jekem said to her.”

Desfan’s intensity sharpened.

Imara took a steadying breath as she visibly gathered her thoughts. The petite princess looked even smaller than usual, and far more vulnerable than Bennick liked to see her. He was used to an Imara who smiled, joked, and viewed the world in a positive light. He hated that she’d been attacked—especially after she’d already suffered a terrible injury. “He didn’t make a lot of sense,” Imara began. “He said he was sorry, and . . . he actually sounded upset. Like he didn’t want to kill me.”

Desfan made a harsh sound deep in his throat, and Bennick agreed completely—there should be no compassion for the man who had attacked Imara.

“He said this was the best moment,” she added, a slight waver in her voice.

Kaz stiffened. Karim and Bennick both turned to him, though Bennick managed to speak first. “Why was this his best moment to attack her?”

Kaz gritted his teeth. “Jekem took the lead tonight. I was off-duty. If I hadn’t checked in before going to bed . . .”

“He saidsorry,” Clare whispered, sounding a little ill. “Why would a killer say that?”

“Could he have been blackmailed somehow?” Bennick asked, his eyes still on Kaz. “Did he have debts? Family that could have been exploited?”

“I don’t think so.” The bodyguard looked miserable, and not just because of his bleeding arm. Bennick could relate; failure of any kind hit a bodyguard hard. Even though Kaz had succeeded in saving Imara, she’d been hurt. And not even by a stranger, but a man Kaz had known well and trusted.

Betrayal had its own burn.

Imara was shaking her head. “He didn’t sound desperate. He mostly sounded upset that he’d have to be the one to kill me. Like he thought my travels with Serene would have brought me to my death instead.” She glanced at Hanna, who was wringing her hands in the periphery. “He said you mentioned my plan to return to Zennor as soon as I healed.”

Hanna sucked in a breath, her eyes glittering with tears. “Fates, I . . . Yes, I told him. He asked, but—I swear, I wasn’t part of this.”

“I know,” Imara said at once. “But Jekem said I couldn’t return to Zennor.”

“Why?” Karim asked. The Mortisian bodyguard was generally a man of few words, but when he spoke, he made them count.

“I don’t know,” Imara said. “He didn’t give me any specifics before he put a pillow against my face.” Her tone failed to be flippant, because she shuddered.

Clare rubbed the princess’s shoulder, her attention on Bennick. “Someone in Zennor doesn’t want Imara to return home. Jekem was following orders—which means someone told him to make sure she didn’t come back.”

“But why?” Desfan demanded, reiterating his bodyguard’s question.

“Someone doesn’t want the clans to unite with the monarchy,” Imara said softly. “It’s not about killing me—it’s about stopping my marriage to Eilan Skyer. It’s the only thing that makes sense. And since he’s a tribal warrior, I’m the easier target.”

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