The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 13

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After my night of espionage, I spent the day in my suite, cooped up in an attempt to sort through my thoughts, to decide whom to trust, whom to test, and whom to deceive. Upon overhearing her conversation with Armando, it had become clear that Dulciana was working at some sort of plan involving her beautiful sister. Based on the many times Ana-Cristina had been thrown into my path, I assumed that distracting or marrying me was the task she was to undertake, the "lengths to which she would go," to use Armando's words.

That left no doubt in my mind that I needed to avoid her, especially if I didn't wish to invoke the wrath of King Felipe.

Then there was the question of Prince Frederico, who seemed more intuitive than I'd assumed. He'd warned Dulciana that I was no idiot and, even though he'd said it in Ardal, I had the distinct impression that he had seen through my principe idiota ruse. Especially if Beatriz' final comment to me at dinner was to be trusted, the pair of them seemed to be keeping a closer eye on me than any of the other royal siblings.

But the fact remained that I needed to choose a bride. While the easy thing to do would simply be to fall for Dulciana's trap, to pursue Ana-Cristina and leave on the first vessel for Pretania, that path was not at all in the best interests of my country. Even without me as Dulciana's betrothed, Frederico still stood a chance of ascending the throne, especially based on Dulciana's comments about her father's deals with the other duques.

But Dulciana was clever. More clever than I'd given her credit for, which was most worrisome since the king had surely also underestimated her. To underestimate an opponent like Dulciana was to play into her plan. Unfortunately for me, besides escaping Ardalone a single man, my most important goal was to ensure that whoever ascended the Ardalonian throne was a friend to Pretania.

Something Dulciana most certainly was not.

If I hadn't guessed at it before, it had now been made irrefutably clear to me that I would have to keep my cards close in order to keep the Ardalonians guessing. The king and Prince Frederico would have to believe that I would remain true to my word and marry Dulciana. Dulciana would have to believe that I was still interested in Ana-Cristina.

Or another of her sisters.

Fear of what "lengths" Ana-Cristina might go to in an attempt to force me to show my hand had me approaching Inés at the ball that evening. Perhaps all the frightened princess needed was an escape from the pit of vipers she'd been raised in.

And what better escape than with a foreign prince like me?

Inés lingered behind one of the banquet tables, seemingly trying to disappear into the nearest tapestry as she ate, her eyes following her two older sisters as they danced with various nobles. When I approached with a smile, I could've sworn Inés choked back a sob, drowned out by the swell of the music.

"How are you this fair evening?" I asked her, innocently knitting my hands behind my back, keeping a decent distance between us, as one would with a frightened animal.

She said nothing, her wide eyes glancing from me to the dance floor, as if gauging whether she could dart away without being intercepted.

"I hope I haven't frightened you," I said, once again earning nothing but silence in response. As I smiled my gentlest, least smirking smile, I wondered whether perhaps she didn't understand me.