The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 29

**A/N: WHOA LOOK WHO'S BACK!! Previously, on The Rebel Prince...

- Frederico attempts to save Thomas by offering him passage on a ship bound for Pretania. Thomas refuses because he thinks Freddy can't save Ardalone by himself. Obviously, his decision had nothing to do with a certain twin...

- Beatriz and Rafael spend their mornings training Thomas so he'll be less of a useless fool the next time they encounter an enemy

- Frederico finally welcomes Thomas into his plotting, but Thomas has to draw the plan out of him since Freddy is not at all forthcoming. It turns out, Frederico has gone and married the daughter of a Vareinnian Grand Duke, much to the surprise of his allies, Rafael's uncles. Thomas pushes Frederico to utilize the commoners to back him, Frederico pushes Thomas to come up with another plan. Finally, Thomas writes a letter to be carried home by the Bazeran merchant vessel Frederico had wanted him to board.

~*~

The days trundled on as we crossed back northwest, into the gnarled old forest, past the inn we'd stopped at after fleeing Relizia. I'd sent a letter to Andrew, filled with enough personal information that he would know it was truly me even if the imprint of my signet ring on the wax seal wasn't enough. I explained Dulciana's coup, asking him to share the truth with as many of our allies as he could, as quickly as possible. I asked him to petition father for aid, though I knew nothing would come of it. At the very least, they'd know I was alive. I didn't doubt that Andrew would curse me for sending a letter on Frederico's merchant vessel rather than boarding it myself.

"Stubborn, contrary Thomas," he'd groan, "Never doing as he's told." The thought made me grin, but the truth remained that overthrowing a tyrannous queen was far more important than waltzing with debutantes and petitioning my father for aid, safe in Highcastle.

Some part of me wondered whether putting my own royal neck on the line would be enough of a statement to incite any sort of action on father's part. I wasn't so sure I wanted to find out, though, for fear that even my life would not be enough to compel him to endanger Pretania by lending support to Frederico.

Beatriz and Rafael continued training me, much to my weary muscles' chagrin. With my sunburnt skin settling into a crisped shade of brown and my blisters hardening into callouses, I looked far less like foreign nobility and far more like the Carvalho men who rode with us. Unfortunately, appearances didn't make me any better with a sword.

Rafael and I had mended our fences, our loyalty to Frederico outweighing the miscommunication that had soured him towards me in the beginning. He was easier on me in training than Beatriz was, though perhaps that was because he was afraid of accidentally crushing my soft courtier's body with his brute strength.

Beatriz, on the other hand...

"Perhaps if you gave me a bow I'd stop scuffing my trousers," I said grumpily, flat on my back in the dirt after parrying with her. We'd ridden out from the treed canopy that morning, Beatriz delaying our training until the end of the day when the ground wasn't so riddled with treacherous roots. The sun had baked the rolling hills and hissing grasses all day, the heat still unbroken as sunset rippled across the horizon.

"If you are being charged by royal guards, do you really think you'd be quick enough to equip, nock, draw, and fire your bow before they impale you with their sword?" Beatriz asked, trying vainly to brush away the sweat-slicked hair stuck to her forehead. Most of it was tamed back in a utilitarian braid, but the pieces that had freed themselves kept sticking to her face and dangling her eyes, affording me useful opportunities when they distracted her.