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Karim didn’t bother to respond to that. He just wordlessly led the way to Imara’s suite, knowing that’s where Desfan needed to be.
Desfan slipped into Imara’s bedchamber, following Hanna. The maid had informed him that Imara had finally opened her eyes about an hour ago. Princess Serene—who’d spent the night at her side—had spoken with Imara for a few moments before the Zennorian princess had once again fallen asleep. Only then had Serene’s bodyguards been able to convince her to retire to her own bed for a much needed rest.
Desfan’s relief that Imara had finally awakened was expected; the bite of jealousy he felt at not being the one beside her when she first opened her eyes was decidedly wrong.
His pulse skipped when he looked around Hanna and beautiful brown eyes met his.
Imara was awake. She was lying under a colorful quilt of red, gold, and sapphire. Her ebony skin seemed a little sallow, and her long braid was loose and messy. Still, she’d never looked more beautiful.
She was alive.
When she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but grin back. Thank the fates she was still breathing; Eyrinthia would be a darker place without her.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Imara asked blithely. “A coronation, perhaps?”
“They can’t very well start without me. Besides, it’s not until this afternoon.” Desfan crossed the room and sat in the empty chair beside her bed. Bright sunlight poured through the open windows, and the crash of distant waves was punctuated by the cries of seabirds.
“Where is Karim?” she asked.
“In the other room.”
“How is he?”
“He’s fine.”
Imara lifted one eyebrow. “Are those his words?”
A smile tugged at Desfan’s lips. “How did you know?”
“It sounds like something Karim would say.”
“True. But I promise, he’s all right.”
The bedroom door clicked faintly as Hanna left them alone.
Desfan’s heart suddenly beat a little faster, but he tried to hide that as he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“A little peckish. Hopefully Hanna’s gone for breakfast.”
His mouth quirked. “I meant your leg.”
“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “It’s well on the mend. Barely hurts at all.”
“I doubt that.” His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Imara. I—”
“Please, spare us both. Unless you want to thank me again for saving your life, let’s not talk about last night.” She smoothed a hand over the quilt on her lap, suddenly intent on the colorful pattern.
It could have been his imagination, but her cheeks seemed to have a hint of color now. What part of last night was she thinking of? His pulse quickened as he thought ofhisfavorite part.
He cleared his throat. “Has the physician been to see you since you woke?”
“Yes, he left just a few minutes ago. He’s been most attentive.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “Quite possibly too attentive. I’m sure there are others in more need of the royal physician’s expertise, but it seems he’s been under orders to check on me every half hour.”
He didn’t bother to feign an apology. “I needed to know you had the best care.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you, Desfan. Truly. But my father won’t go to war over this.”
“That’s reassuring. But I had other motivations.”
