The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 14 - Part 2

"I'm out," I said in Ardal, declining to buy in to the next round. My table mates were drunk enough not to care when I rose, careful to skirt the room to avoid Armando's notice as I strode to the other end of bar.

Though the room was definitely far more wobbly than I'd remembered.

I banged into the bar, catching my balance against the wood and losing whatever subtle approach I'd hoped for. When Armando glanced my way, I threw on my best, drunken grin, and he returned to his conversation with Peñarisco, unperturbed.

"...doesn't mean it's set in stone," Armando was saying, the taunt gone from his voice, his tone all business now.

"Of course it is," Guillermo Peñarisco snarled. "You heard him! Delmar 'bought' her for his damned son! My father laughed me out of his study when I brought up the idea of winning a marriage to Ana-Cristina. Her fate has been set in stone for weeks now, if not months."

Well now, this was getting interesting.

"What can I get for you?" the older woman tending the bar asked, tearing my attention away from the clandestine conversation.

"Agua, por favor," I said. She arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't realize Pretanian princes were such cheap drunks," she said, amused. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer another glass of our finest whiskey?"

When I blinked at her, I realized she'd been speaking English. Or at least, I hoped she had been.

Otherwise I'd definitely been about to answer her in Ardal.

"...ways I could help you," Armando was saying to Guillermo.

"Fine, yes. Whiskey with a kiss of water," I said, eager to chase the barmaid away so I could better eavesdrop.

"You can't help me. You're the jumped-up, bastard son of a duque, you can barely help yourself," Guillermo snapped.

"If you think I hold any love for my father or his rotten progeny, you're mistaken," Armando continued. "Help me help you, Guillermo. Nothing would make me happier than ruining my half-brother's arranged marriage to the woman you love."

Guillermo sullenly swirled his drink in silence.

"Convince your father to back the rightful heir to the throne and I will ensure that Ana-Cristina becomes your wife," Armando said.

The barmaid set the glass of whiskey in front of me, this one more full than the others I'd been served.

"Gracias," I said, lifting the glass in a toast to her.

"Enjoy, your Highness," she said, sidling away to serve another patron.

I didn't allow the drink to touch my lips, the room already spinning around me.

Apparently I wasn't as good at holding my drink as I'd thought.

"...cannot be that simple," Guillermo said.

"It is, I assure you. There will come a time, soon, that the duques will need to choose whom they will serve as future ruler of Ardalone. Only one of those rulers will allow you to marry Ana-Cristina," Armando said, clapping Guillermo on the back again. "Choose wisely, my friend. Once the battle lines are drawn, your princess might end up someone else's wife. Surely you've seen what the Barcolino men do to their women."

Guillermo turned sullen, drunken, furious eyes to where the Duque Delmar's son was still boasting about the beautiful princess he was going to marry.

"How are you faring, your Highness?" Armando asked, catching me watching. I cursed my dulled reflexes, throwing on my best inebriated smile as he sauntered over.