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She let out a slow breath. “I don’t know if Desfan would even consider it, Clare. He has many reasons to hate Latif.”
“I know. But I need him. Please, Serene.”
She wanted to protest, but the way Clare looked at her . . . This woman had lost so much. Too much of that had been in direct connection to being Serene’s decoy—and her friend.
She couldn’t deny her this. Not when it could bring Clare a measure of peace. “I’ll plead your case,” she said. “I’ll ask tonight.” She’d sent a message to Desfan immediately after getting Venn and Vera’s report, and her future husband had offered to see her before dinner.
Clare’s tense body relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”
Serene wanted to say more. Apologize. Thank her in return, for all she’d done. But she struggled to find the right words.
Clare’s voice was lower as she said, “What are you going to do about Grandeur?”
Her hands rolled to fists at her sides. “I’m going to stop him. I’m going to steal his crown. I’m going to make him face justice for every crime he’s ever committed.”
Clare looked at her without blinking. “I want to help you do that. All of it. I want to be one of your rebels.”
The words caught her off-guard. Clare had hesitated before to become fully involved as a rebel. But that had been to protect her brothers. Without them . . .
Still, this was a weighty decision—a treasonous one.
“Are you sure?” Serene asked.
“Yes.” There was no doubt or hesitation in Clare now.
The princess nodded once. “Then we will make him pay. Together.”
Clare’s eyes cleared a little, shining with new purpose.
Serene felt the familiar weight of responsibility. Clare wasn’t the only one relying on her these days—and time wasn’t on her side. Everything in Eyrinthia felt like it was breaking. Serene wasn’t sure how to fix things, especially since she was stuck in Duvan.
She wanted to visit Salvation, and help the refugees there. She wanted to find out what had happened to all the Devendrans who had vanished in Zennor. She wanted to talk to James and consult with him on how their strategies needed to change in order to protect the rebels and their families.
She wanted to go to Zennor and counsel with her uncle, King Zaire Buhari. She could use his wisdom. And while there, she would seek out Ivar Carrigan. Her father’s cousin was a man with many enemies, but Serene trusted him completely. Clare had once asked about Carrigan, and Serene had said she hardly knew the man. That had been a lie, but she was used to protecting him.
Fates, she could use his advice. Because even though she knew it was reckless, she burned with the desire to return to Devendra right now and take the throne from her father. She wanted to bring justice to him and her brother for all their crimes.
While she was wishing for impossible things, she also wanted to stop the war with Ryden before it had a chance to start, ensure Imara’s happiness, and find herself a future with Cardon.
In short, she wanted far too many things, and she was only one person.
At that thought, Serene blinked and refocused on Clare.
Her mind began to race.
Serene met Desfan in his office. They were alone; Karim and Wilf stood in the hall outside, and she didn’t imagine there was much of a conversation happening between those two.
Serene told Desfan everything Venn and Vera had learned about Salvation and the Hunt.
Desfan scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked weary. Far too weary to have only been wearing the crown for one day.
“I knew of the increase in refugees,” he said, gesturing to the pile of letters on his desk. “But I hadn’t heard anything of this camp.”
“According to Venn, the Hunt may have suppressed any messages that tried to reach you, in order to hide what they were doing.” Serene passed over the letter addressed to him. “This is from Lord Zander Fellnor. I believe he’ll be asking you for aid and protection.”
“I will do everything I can for them,” he promised.
“Thank you.”
