The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 14 - Part 1

A few hours later, as I sat swirling a glass of Kentshire whiskey at a card table, I wondered why Beatriz and Frederico had been so dramatic.

As he'd promised, Armando had escorted me to Lower Relizia, but not in the company I'd expected. Rather than a group of royal guards looking to spend their hard earned gold at a less than reputable establishment, I found myself slipping through the main High Relizian gate with a group of young noble men. Among them I recognized Guillermo Peñarisco, the son and heir of the Duque Delminas, the one I'd managed to upset when I'd won Ana-Cristina's first dance at her birthday ball.

Clearly his feelings about our mutual presence on such an excursion were similar to mine, as he demanded, in Ardal, why an idiot prince was among us.

"Because he's an idiot with plenty of gold," Armando said, "You can always wait until next week if you're so reluctant to take a foreigner's coin."

Guillermo was silent, but sullen after that.

Garbed in dark cloaks, Armando snuck the dozen of us through the gate, speaking briefly with the gate guards as he slipped each of them enough coin that they would look the other way.

Beyond the massive fortress wall, the streets of Lower Relizia were starkly different than those mere meters away. Houses crowded the street, with additions and extra storeys teetering over us, clotheslines criss-crossing the night sky above. In the moonlight, the colours were muted, but the chipped paint and crooked shutters were still apparent. Gone were the sprawling lawns and tinkling fountains, though from the storefronts we passed, it was apparent that this was a fairly well-off part of town, with jewellers, dressmakers, and expensive cobblers lining the street.

Armando didn't keep us on the main thoroughfares, however. He led us through a winding series of alleys, straying away from the larger streets lit by night merchants and hanging lanterns at each intersection. The others seemed to know where we were headed, trudging along behind the royal guard as they conversed among themselves in Ardal.

None of them spoke to me.

But I didn't mind. I'd wanted to visit Lower Relizia to get a feel for the commoners, not to befriend nobles. Left to my own devices, I was thankful that my appraisal of the city with wide-eyes and a swivelling head played very well into my disguise of idiot prince.

But idiot I was not, for even as Armando wove through alley after alley, I made sure to keep my bearings thanks to the stars overhead. We'd walked for a good quarter hour, due southeast from the High Relizian gate, when Armando finally came to a stop beside a nondescript door in a barrel-laden alley. The smell of brine and rotten fish filled the air, confirming my suspicions that we'd headed toward the docks where I'd first set foot on Ardalonian soil.

The smell didn't remain foul for long. The moment the door swept open and we were ushered inside, the sweet scent of jasmine and exotic sandalwood filled the air, chasing away the stench. Behind the ordinary door was a decidedly opulent entrance hall, though I didn't need to look any farther than the next room and its occupants to guess at the kind of establishment I'd been escorted to.

Like the regulars they were, the nobles sauntered into the massive sitting room just beyond, earning coos and greetings from the scantily-clad women draping themselves over furniture or the other patrons seated at a number of gaming tables. The far wall boasted a polished bar, where a keen-eyed older woman surveyed the lot of us as we entered. She and Armando exchanged a nod, her eyes lingering on me before she returned to pouring spirits.

Assessing the others, I took a seat at one of the card tables across from Guillermo Peñarisco, if only to eavesdrop on the Duque Delminas' son. Smiling like the polite idiot I was pretending to be, I splayed out more gold than was required, the Ardalonians at the table exchanging looks that could only be described as gleeful.