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“I don’t think so. Your nobles were concerned about the Devendran refugees, but it’s all prejudiced nonsense.”
“Nothing new, then. Let me know if you overhear anything I should know.”
She drew back with false shock, a palm pressed over her heart for good measure. “Are you asking a princess of Zennor to be your spy?”
His brown eyes danced. “Yes. Daring of me, isn’t it?”
“Or brilliant.”
“Strange. Those exact words have been used to describe me all my life. Among others, of course.”
She chuckled.
Gulls cried overhead and the waves crashed against the shore in frothy swells. While she studied the glistening sea, she could feel Desfan’s eyes on her.
Her cheeks warmed. “How did the conversation with Ranon go?” she asked.
Her mission to distract him was accomplished; he leaned back with a long exhale. “As expected. He wanted to visit Grayson, and I denied his request.”
Imara studied Desfan. She knew exactly where his thoughts had wandered. “You can trust Grayson,” she reminded him softly.
“Maybe.” His shoulders tensed as he met her gaze. “Even if I can trust him, though, the Kaelins are going to do everything in their power to keep Mia. Grayson is highly skilled, but he’s only one person. What can he do against an army?”
Her stomach tightened. “Let’s pray we never have to find out.”
Chapter 25
Clare
ClarestoodatDesfan’sside as he delivered a speech in front of Duvan’s primary orphanage. He thanked Devendra for their example in how to better fund the orphanages of Mortise, and he thanked the nobles who had already become patrons of orphanages in their cities.
She had already given the princess’s speech—thank the fates Serene had known about this appearance and had written something for Clare to memorize—so now she was free to focus on the large crowd gathered in the street.
She was looking for James.
Bridget had received a brief message from the rebel last night. He said he would be at the orphanage today, and that he’d find a way to speak with her. She wasn’t sure how he would, since Bennick and Venn were both standing behind her, and neither one looked inclined to let her out of their sight.
“Because of our combined efforts,” Desfan said, his voice ringing out along the packed street, “the vulnerable children of Mortise will be safer. They will no longer have to rely on the empty promises of drug masters and thieves for protection. They will no longer have to make alliances with dangerous gangs or engage in bloody street fights in order to eat. The benefits of these changes are already being seen in Duvan, and in other cities across our great country. Crimes have been reduced, and the streets are safer. If you have not already pledged your support for your local orphanage, I encourage you to do so. Your coin will go to a truly charitable endeavor, and you will change the lives of children in desperate need. Not only that, you will be aiding in creating a safer, brighter Mortise.”
Applause broke out, but Desfan wasn’t done.
His expression became harder, his dark eyes more intense. “To any drug masters, gang leaders, or anyone who would abuse, endanger, or misuse a child, I have one message: you will be found, and you will face retribution. As your serjan, I will not tolerate any deliberate harm to any child.”
Clare noticed Serai Yahri—who was the only council member in attendance—blink once.
So, Desfan was not following a planned speech. He was speaking from his heart.
Clare admired him all the more for it. And for his next words.
“I have known too many children who have suffered because of evil or neglectful men and women, and it cannot continue. I will do everything within my power to make sure every child within Mortise is safe. Creating these havens for the orphaned is simply the first step in my lifelong vow to protect the children of Mortise. I urge you to stand with me and make the same commitment.”
Clare was the first to clap, though others quickly followed. Some faces in the crowd were surprised, but most seemed pleased with Desfan’s bold words. The serjan scanned the cheering crowd, and Clare could see the firmness of his resolution.
One of the orphanage’s attendants stepped forward, and the applause dissipated as she said, “Thank you, Serjan Desfan and Princess Serene for coming to visit us. We appreciate all your efforts to create a safe place for our children. We would love to provide a tour of the orphanage, if you’d like.”
“Please,” Desfan said. He took Clare’s hand. It felt a little strange to hold another man’s hand—especially with Bennick right behind her. But Desfan’s long fingers wrapped reassuringly around hers; the grip of a friend. She had admired Desfan from the first moment she’d met him, but after the conversation they’d shared that day on the beach, she considered him a friend.
Fates. In less than a year, she’d gone from being a kitchen maid in Devendra to befriending the serjan of Mortise. The reality of her life’s drastic changes made her reel.
