The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 27

Even though I observed them every morning, I was never invited to join.

I was an outsider in this camp. Beyond Rafael and Beatriz, the others barely exchanged any words with me. Frederico's uncles kept their distance, especially after my conversation with Rafael. Clearly they knew just was well as I did how terribly suspicious it would look for them to be seen speaking with me behind Frederico's back. The other men had no reason to speak to me, especially when it became clear that I was just as clueless about Frederico's plans as they were.

But unlike them, I was not a soldier whose obedience was expected and required. I was a prince. A curious prince.

Eight days after our departure from the inn, the air finally cooled and we were met with the scent of salt and seaweed when the wind changed direction in the afternoon. Frederico signalled for us to stop, the sun still far higher in the sky than it had ever been when we'd stopped to make camp.

"We stop here until tomorrow. Find somewhere defensible to sleep," Frederico told Rafael's uncles, before turning his horse towards where I was trailing behind him, "Come with me, please."

He didn't wait for my answer before urging his horse forward, breaking into a trot towards the trees in the distance. Wordlessly, Beatriz and Rafael followed him, neither of them surprised by our sudden stop.

I purposefully dawdled behind them, making no haste to catch up lest Frederico think I could be trained to heel like a dog. When I lost sight of the three of them, Rafael doubled back to hasten me onwards. We followed a deer track through the forest until the trees shrank down, gnarled and salt-stained, as we approached a seaside cliff. Frederico gestured for the other two to hang back as he rode towards the edge of the cliff, salt spray crashing up behind him from the churning waves below.

Rolling my eyes at the dramatic backdrop, I trundled my way up to him, my brown eyed mare just as unhurried as I was. Our cliff overlooked a crescent moon bay, a village huddled along its shore. Fishing boats bobbed and swayed at anchor, while others whisked out beyond a churning reef, towards the open ocean. My eyes lit upon the one ship that seemed out of place, a large merchant vessel, mighty sails furled as it towered over the fishing boats.

Frederico, you sneaky bastard, I thought.

"That ship is a Bazeran merchant vessel, bound for Everton," Frederico began, his gaze following my own.

Everton. The southernmost port city of Pretania.

Home.

"I offer you an escape because I have come to think of you as an ally," Frederico continued.

"Really? Despite all my spying?" I asked, emphasizing my surprise in an attempt to break him free from whatever pre-rehearsed speech he was about to deliver. His lips pursed, but he continued, undeterred.

"My sister has made her move for my crown and, if my sources are correct, she will have fulfilled all that is required by Ardalonian law to rule."

"A shame, really," I put in, "How will you handle your new title of Frederico, prince of nothing and king of less?" This earned me an exasperated glance before, again, he somehow managed to tug his kingly veneer back into place.

"I am the rightful king of Ardalone," he said, "And I will need my foreign allies to help me reclaim my throne."

I let out a low, impressed whistle, a mockery of his foolish plan.

"Stealing the crown from your sister - who, as you just finished explaining, has claimed it rightfully as her own - using foreigners to help you. Freddy, your planning is sloppy at best and catastrophic at worst."