The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 8

I spent the remainder of the ball following Dulciana around like a very obedient puppy. She conversed with other nobles in Ardal, pausing briefly to introduce me before resuming her discussions. Once again, I had to fight to keep my eyebrows from lifting at the things she said to some of them.

"It's truly terrible that the commoners are demanding so much from you," she said to the Duque Dellanos, the man whose family controlled the plains, where most of the farms of Ardalone were found. "In my opinion, they should be content with a roof over their heads and food in their bellies in exchange for their work. We cannot start paying them wages because that would simply be giving in to their unreasonable demands."

Then, to the Duque Delminas, she said, "I hope you know that I am in full agreement with my father, that you should not be punished for disciplining those who work under you. You are their duque, you may punish disobedience and laziness however you see fit. You need not fear, for if they dare to plead their case before us, we will support you."

It was an effort not to bristle with the casual way Dulciana dismissed the "discipline" of Ardalone's commoners. Father's foreign affairs advisor, Lord Wentworth, had mentioned that such treatment was one of the many reasons the common folk were so restless and primed to rise. Most were barely paid, earning only food and shelter in return for their work, which meant that an injury or illness could see them evicted from their homes and starving.

But I held my tongue and maintained my foolish grin, bowing and nodding and politely kissing the hands of the duques' wives, the duquesas.

I met the Duque Delbosque and his wife, a jovial pair who seemed genuinely happy to speak with Dulciana and genuinely curious about me. I wondered whether it was all just a pretense, as after having spent time in Ardalone's court, I could see why the rumours called it a snake pit. I doubted that any truly kind person could survive here.

The Duque Delmar was the only one of the four dukes in attendance without his wife, whom Dulciana pointedly inquired after. She ended the conversation with a quip about his wife's frequent illnesses when the duque mentioned that she was home, in bed, with a sore throat.

"It makes one wonder what could possibly be happening in your home to make the duquesa so ill all the time," Dulciana said in parting.

I pursed my lips to keep from smirking at the look on the duque's face. Dulciana's sass was almost amusing, now that it wasn't directed my way.

Almost.

Because the moment we exited the ballroom at the end of the night, her facade of coquettish, savvy courtier fell and the mean, angry Dulciana I'd grown used to returned. We parted ways in the entrance hall, with her tearing her hand from mine when I took it to kiss it farewell - an action the few remaining nobles had most certainly noticed. In response, I shrugged by idiot prince shrug and climbed the stairs to my bed.

The next morning, Giles brought breakfast to my suite with little news, the servants just as surprised as the nobles were about Frederico and Beatriz' surprise return. With naught to do but a state dinner with the Ambassador and the duques that evening, I dressed and prepared myself for more wandering about the airy palace, perhaps to find a library or try my luck at discovering the secret corridors once again.

I whistled to myself as I jogged down the stairs, the cooler morning air a welcome respite from the heat of the past few days. It wouldn't last, but I intended to make the most of it while I could.

I was nearly to the bottom when Ana-Cristina stepped out from the shadows, startling me so thoroughly I nearly tumbled down the last three steps.

"Goodness, you certainly know how to startle a man. How are you faring this morning?" I said by way of greeting, once I'd regained my balance. I used my bow to subtly inspect the tower stairwell and entrance hall.