Page 195 of Royal Rebel

Imara’s white teeth worried her bottom lip as she watched him. “Do you alwayshave to be the one to take risks?”

He flashed her a smile. “You sound like Karim.”

“The meeting with Fang was one thing, but you being there to take down Sahvi is quite another.”

He twisted to face her fully. “You’re worried about me.”

“Of course I am.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Just promise you’ll come tell me the moment you get back so I know you survived.”

“Consider it done.” Desfan moved to sit beside her on the settee, his voice gentling as he said, “I’ll be fine.”

“How can you know that?”

He shrugged. “Because I always am.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That only lasts until it doesn’t.”

“That’s fair.” He bit the inside of his cheek, choosing his next words carefully. “I would prefer it if you avoided Skyer while I’m gone.”

Confusion crossed her face. “Why?”

“Just . . . please, Imara. Don’t be alone with him tonight.” He’d been watching the man as closely as he could, without risking detection. Guards reported his movements—which were many. The man didn’t seem the type to sit still. He spent hours in the training yard, he conversed with Grandeur at least once a day, and he took trips into the city.

“I’m not even sure what his plans are tonight,” Imara said. “But I’ll be in my suite with Razan.”

Desfan cracked a smile. “Will you both be fretting together over Karim and me?”

“We’re more likely to be cursing you, actually,” Imara said dryly. “But we might squeeze in a prayer or two.”

This time his grin was full. “That’s very kind of you.”

Seriousness filtered back in her dark eyes, and she surprised him when she took his hand. “Please be careful.”

His body heated at her simple touch. Just feeling her fingers against his made his heart pound. A spark deep inside him lit.

She cared.

No matter what she said, or how she avoided him . . . she cared.

He would do everything in his power to free her from Skyer. Even if that meant trusting Liam Kaelin.

Desfan squeezed her fingers. “It will all be over soon.”

Chapter 45

Mia

Afterweeksofunrelentingtravel, the citywalls of Porynth loomed before them. Mia sat in front of Grayson on the horse they’d been given in Edgewood. They’d been pushing hard to make up for lost time, and Mia was exhausted. She could tell Grayson was, too. She was desperate for a bath, for a warm place to sleep—for a meal that would actually fill her aching belly, since they’d been rationing their meager food for the last few days. Seeing the towering walls of Porynth brought her relief, but also a flash of terror.

They’d reached the port city, which meant she would be expected to get on a ship—if the pirate Zadir was even still waiting in the harbor, since they were nearly a week past his deadline. She was desperate to escape Ryden, but now, looking at Porynth . . . Mortise had never seemed closer, and the reality of returning home brought out so many mixed emotions. Despite all of Grayson’s assurances, she still felt an edge of panic whenever she thought of reaching the palace she’d once called home. She was aching to see Desfan again—she could admit that, now—but she didn’t know if she was ready to face him. Maybe she never would be.

The gray stone walls of Porynth were painted by the vibrant colors of sunset, and the salty sea air was almost painful to breathe. Familiar. Frightening. It was a scent that meant home, but also reminded Mia of death.

The sea glittered in the distance, seemingly going on forever. As did the line to enter the port city. Grayson guided their mount so they joined the twisting queue, and slowly, they inched toward the city gate.

All around them, Mia saw the faces of the desperate. She wondered if many of those seeking admittance into the city hoped to flee Ryden. She could not imagine there were enough boats to hold them all.

A cold wind blew in from the north. Each day had gotten increasingly cooler; the ground was covered in shimmering frost every morning, and Mia had gotten used to a perpetual chill in her bones. She and Grayson had their hoods pulled up, which helped obscure their identities as well—not that anyone in the crowd seemed intent on watching them. In Ryden, Mia was learning, everyone preferred to remain aloof. Separate. Closed off. It was no doubt safer that way.

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