Page 205 of Royal Rebel

“Oh, it might take a while,” Zadir said. “I have boys in every street leading to the harbor, and they’re all eagerly awaiting the first soldier that walks this way. They all have a sighting to report. Can you believe the Black Hand was seen scaling the north wall? Or maybe it was the south one.” His grin stretched wide. “Your soldiers will be quite busy tonight, I assure you.”

Tyrell visibly seethed.

Mia looked up at Tyrell. Her quiet words were for him, but they carried in the still night. “You need to let me go.”

He glanced down at her. “I can’t.”

Grayson hated the desperate pang in Tyrell’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” Mia breathed, still looking at Tyrell. “But I’m choosing to go with Grayson. Let me go, before you’re hurt.”

Tyrell wasn’t going to let go. Grayson knew this, becausehewould have never let go. Despite Zadir’s plan to keep the guards busy, Grayson knew their time was not endless.

They needed a new approach.

Grayson took a step forward, and Tyrell’s gaze snapped to him. “You and me, Tyrell,” he said, his voice even. “Just us. The last one standing walks away with Mia.”

“No,” she said at once. She tugged against Tyrell’s hold, but it didn’t break.

Tyrell stared at Grayson. “To the death?”

“No. Incapacitate. Just like one of Father’s matches.”

Tyrell glanced at the pirates that surrounded them. “And they’ll just let me take Mia and go?”

“Yes,” Grayson lied. There was no way Zadir would let him take Mia. But since Grayson wasn’t going to lose this fight, the lie didn’t matter.

Tyrell’s lips were pressed flat. He didn’t trust Grayson, but his choices were limited. A fight would make noise; possibly bring the soldiers he’d sent to watch the nearby streets. Fighting Grayson was a risk, but it was a calculated one.

Grayson was just doing the only thing he could think of to get Mia away from Tyrell.

Tyrell straightened. “A fight between just us, then. No interference.”

Grayson dipped his chin.

Tyrell’s grip finally loosened, and Mia took a step away. “Stay there,” Tyrell ordered.

She hesitated in the doorway. She shot Grayson a panicked look, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Tyrell was the only brother who could occasionally beat him. Fates, he wished he was at his full strength. He might have recovered from his fever, but he hadn’t been eating or sleeping well, and the long days of travel had taken their toll. But this fight was for Mia—he would win, because he could not afford to lose.

He saw the same resolution burning in Tyrell’s eyes.

The two brothers walked forward, each of them with a knife in hand. Tyrell spotted the Syalla blades belted at Grayson’s waist. “Maybe we should use those. In memory of the last time I beat you.”

Grayson tugged one free and tossed it onto the ground in front of his brother.

Tyrell bent to snatch it up, his eyes never leaving Grayson. He sheathed his own blade and tossed the poisoned knife in the air.

Grayson rolled his shoulders and settled into a fighting stance, his fingers curling around the decorative hilt of the Syalla-coated weapon.

Zadir gave a whistle, sharp and piercing.

Mia jumped as the pirates near Tyrell surged forward, knocking the prince to the ground.

Grayson stilled, watching as Tyrell was tackled and the knife wrestled from him.

Zadir strode forward and clapped Grayson’s shoulder. “I’m sure it would have been an epic fight, lad. But frankly, we have better things to do.”