Page 194 of Royal Rebel

Karim angled toward Desfan, his voice pitched low. “You can’t believe him. As much as you might want to—”

“You don’t trust him,” Liam interrupted, his focus solely on Desfan. “You can feel it. That instinct that screams he’s your enemy? Trust it.”

Karim set a hand on the table, leaning toward Liam before Desfan could speak. “As the future husband of Princess Imara, Skyer is a protected ally of Mortise. We can’t cast him out. You telling us to do so could be your way of creating a rift between Zennor and Mortise.”

“Or I could be trying to save your stupid lives.” Liam craned his neck, eyes locking on Desfan. “You care for Imara.”

The unexpected words jolted him. So much, he wasn’t sure what his expression revealed.

Liam’s mouth set in a grim line at whatever he saw. “Desfan, listen to me. Donotlet Skyer near her.”

Karim growled in his throat. “You’re playing on our fears to get what you want.”

“Your fears are valid,” Liam said, his tone a little sharper. More desperate. “Skyer came here for Imara, didn’t he?”

“An easy guess,” Karim said.

“You can’t let him take her.” Liam looked once more to Desfan. “EvenIdon’t know everything Skyer plans, but he wants this marriage to Imara. Badly. And that doesn’t bode well for any of us—least of all Imara. If you care for her at all, you can’t let Skyer take her.”

“They’re not going anywhere yet,” Desfan said. “Imara is still recovering from her injury and can’t travel.”

“That buys you time and little else.” Liam’s features tightened. “Skyer and Sahvi are allies.”

Surprise cut him. “Do you have proof?”

“No. Nothing that could touch a man as powerful as Skyer, anyway. But I can get a confession from Sahvi, and he’ll have proof.”

Karim barked a laugh. “So we’re back to that. You only want to get out of this cell.”

Liam glared at the bodyguard. “I believe the serjan and I want the same thing right now—Skyer’s downfall. And if I’m at that meeting with Sahvi, I can make that happen.”

Desfan stared at the prince, his thoughts whirling.

Karim stood beside him, fuming. He hated that Desfan was considering this.

It was a risk. A stupid risk, possibly. But if it could free Imara from Skyer . . .

It wasn’t really a choice.

“I can’t believe you’re taking Liam Kaelin with you,” Imara said, her voice clearly communicating her shock.

Desfan slid another dagger into the sheath at his hip. His biggest regret with their plan was the need for a disguise. It meant he couldn’t bring his dual blades; they were too distinctive. “He was persuasive,” he said to Imara.

He hadn’t told her anything else that Liam had said this morning; that Skyer was allied with Sahvi, and that even Liam Kaelin seemed to take the threat of Skyer so seriously. Desfan didn’t want to scare Imara. Especially when—if all went well tonight—he could arrest Skyer for his crimes before she truly had to fear him.

He was in his suite, preparing to go to Fang’s warehouse. And though Imara stole his focus, he hadn’t hesitated to invite her in when she’d knocked on his door.

The Zennorian princess sat on the end of the settee in his sitting room. It was the seat his mother had always favored. The thought entered his mind, but didn’t sting like thoughts of his mother often did. Instead, warmth settled in his chest.

He liked seeing Imara there.

“I can’t believe Karim is allowing this,” Imara said.

“Iamthe serjan,” Desfan reminded her. “I outrank him.”

“He must get tired of hearing that.”

He chuckled and grabbed another knife.

---