The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 9

Touring High Relizia with Ana-Cristina was very different from touring with Ambassador Wells. For one, the rest of the city's nobles were out calling on one another, stopping their carriages to talk and calling out their greetings from their shaded porticos as we passed. We moved at a snail's pace, but with each conversation and introduction, I filed away more and more knowledge about Ardalone's nobility.

"They seem to like you," I said, as we rode away from the Duquesa Dellanos' carriage, she and her two daughters inside. They'd spent a great deal of time asking about me and Dulciana in Ardal, while I smiled and attempted to look as politely bored as I could. To her credit, Ana-Cristina dodged each question effortlessly, steering the conversation, like any skilled courtier would, to safer topics of fashion and weather.

"Everybody likes me," she said, tilting her chin with one of the smuggest smiles I'd ever laid eyes on. "That is why I am father's favourite and why my birthday ball is always the grandest."

I fought to keep from laughing, instead opting for my rakish grin.

"How fortunate am I, then, to have the pleasure of your company for an entire morning," I said, turning my eyes back forward when she fixed me with that flirtatious grin once again.

The more we rode, the more I realized that Ana-Cristina's invitation was not meant so much as a thank you, but rather as a deliberate attempt for the pair of us to be seen together. We stopped at nearly every house and carriage and she was sure to throw at least one flirtatious look my way every time.

Interesting, given the king's directive yesterday. Then again, Dulciana and Ana-Cristina probably thought I was some hapless prince, easily beguiled by a beautiful girl. I knew what they were doing, but for now, I'd decided to play along.

All the better to learn their plan, after all.

When rounded the corner towards the barrio Delminas, the High Relizian neighbourhood where the Duque Delminas and his liege lords lived, Ana-Cristina reined in her horse.

"I think perhaps we ought to head back," she said, tearing her eyes from the carriage parked before the sprawling Peñarisco palacio a moment too late. I registered her unease and haste to leave, but I was far too curious not to press on.

"I haven't seen this quarter yet," I lied, running an appreciative gaze over the intricate metalwork and gold filigree adorning Duque Alejandro Peñarisco's home.

"Father will be furious if we're late to luncheon," Ana-Cristina said, turning her horse around, leaning over to drop her voice and add, "I promise I'll show you more some other time."

A lesser man would've been swayed by the smoulder in her eyes and the way her décolletage was on proud display as she leaned towards me.

But I was not a lesser man.

"I'm sure we won't be late to luncheon," I said simply, nudging my horse forward. Follow or leave, she had her choice, but I intended to see why she was so hesitant to flaunt our ride before the very duque who had questioned my intentions the night before.

To Ana-Cristina's credit, she didn't so much as mutter an oath as she caught up to me, the only evidence of her displeasure the stiffness of the courtier's smile she now wore.

"The Duque Delminas does not take too kindly to strangers," she said, "Though I noticed that you and he exchanged a few words last night."

Of course you did, I thought. Shrewd women, these princesses.

"One would think that a man whose industry relies on exports would be most interested in meeting new arrivals, especially royalty," I said.

Ana-Cristina said nothing, the words dying on her lips as the front door of the Peñarisco household opened, a pair of men striding out. The first I recognized as the duque himself, attired yet again in finery that befit a noble richer than most. But the older man beside him, with greying hair and pale skin, did not appear to be Ardalonian at all.