As for his own part, he was eager for this. Adrenaline hummed through his veins, awakening his reckless side that hadn’t stretched its wings in far too long. Ever since Skyer’s arrival yesterday, he’d been burning with the need todosomething.A midnight meeting with a drug master was safer than indulging the impulse to punch Skyer in his smirking face—or kiss Imara again, which would definitely be a mistake.
Fates, he hated feeling helpless. And that’s exactly how he felt when it came to Skyer. He hadn’t even been able to get upset at Imara’s bodyguard for identifying Skyer at the palace gates, because the man hadn’t had a choice; Skyer had recognized him and demanded the bodyguard identify him to the Mortisian guards.
At least Desfan was reassured that Imara’s remaining bodyguards were loyal to her; her guard had looked miserable when Desfan had questioned him, and Kaz—who had been standing nearby—looked just as distressed about Skyer’s sudden appearance. It made Desfan wonder once again why King Zaire would arrange such a marriage for his daughter—Skyer was immediately and thoroughly distasteful.
He needed to stop thinking about Skyer. It was only making his tension rise, and there was nothing he could do at this point but wait and pray Serene succeeded in nullifying Imara’s betrothal.
Forcing his attention to the present, Desfan glanced around the darkened shop they stood in. Candles of all shapes and sizes covered the counters in the room, the smell of wax and various spicy scents filling his nose.
Razan was wrapped in a light-weight cloak with the hood pushed back. Her dark hair was in a long braid that trailed over one shoulder, and she was pointedly not looking at Karim. Desfan assumed they’d had a private fight before coming here, because their walk to this part of town had been unbearably strained.
They stood near the window, so they could get the benefits of the meager moonlight. This close to midnight, the streets were nearly empty, but for a few skirting shadows that darted along their way.
“Do you have daggers?” Karim asked Razan, his voice stiff.
“Yes,” she said curtly.
He made a low sound in his throat. “Now, if only you knew how to use them.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Desfan barely held in a sigh. “Maybe we should—”
“Tomorrow morning,” Razan bit out at Karim. “Training grounds. You and me.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “Your arrogance could use some diminishing.”
Color burned her cheeks. By the way her spine straightened, Desfan knew it was with anger, not embarrassment. “You havenoidea what I’ve learned since we were sixteen,” she hissed. “You don’t know me anymore, Karim.”
He laughed, the sound dark and hard. “I didn’t know you evenwhenwe were sixteen.”
Razan’s teeth clenched. “You are such asrik.”
Desfan’s eyes flew wide. “Let’s not—”
“Call me anything you want, if it will make you feel better,” Karim cut over Desfan, his gaze sharp on Razan. “Everything is always about you, after all.”
“I think this conversation should wait,” Desfan said quickly. “Perhaps after—”
“No,” Razan said, her eyes flashing. “I think this is the perfect time. Karim’s annoyed, so he’s more likely to actually speak his mind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Karim demanded.
“It means you only communicate when we’re fighting—the rest of the time you hold it all in and just glare and grunt!”
Desfan rubbed a hand across his brow. “I suppose thisishappening now.”
He was ignored as his friends continued to glare at each other.
“Fates,” Karim swore. “You are the most aggravating woman in Eyrinthia.”
“As if you’re not the most aggravatingmanin Eyrinthia?” Razan’s hands clamped onto her hips, her boots planted firmly on the wooden floor of the shop. “The night of Eyrinthia’s Ball was the first time you truly talked to me since I came back. Do you remember what you said while we danced?”
Karim was visibly seething. “I told you to leave.”
Desfan’s eyes widened, but when Karim shot him a glower, he plucked up the nearest candle and pretended to study it intensely.
“Yes, you told me to leave,” Razan said, her tone hard. “But do you remember why?”