The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 41

Callum simply laughed and patted me patronizingly on the cheek. I jerked away from his cold, calloused fingers. "I'm afraid you haven't much choice, unless you fancy spilling your royal blood all over the marble of Dulciana's throne room. I think that would be a rather terrible waste, especially when you're only second in line for a throne of your own."

The bastard. I bit back the curse that rose up my throat and sizzled on my tongue. Insulting Callum would not get me anywhere. Spitting on the idea of marrying Adelaide would not get me anywhere. Raging at him for daring to subtly threaten my brother's life so he could install me on Pretania's throne with his granddaughter beside me would only see me struck, or worse.

I needed to focus. To shove down my desperation and the panic clawing through every one of my thoughts. One-sided though it was, this was still a negotiation. There was something I could do, only what? There must have been something else he'd said that I could leverage to my advantage...

I needed to think of this as no more than a game. Another puzzle of father's. Another game of words with Andrew. Another debate with Frederico. I could win those. I could win this, if I stopped thinking about the consequences of defeat.

Despite my knotted stomach, I mustered as much calm as I could. "I'm afraid I do have a choice, Callum. Because your plan lacks one essential ingredient: feasibility." I held his gaze, forcing down all of my panic and all of the pain from the bite of the rope into my wrists. "My father will never pardon you. Not even for me."

He tilted his head in the same disapproving, disgusted way father so favoured. "Do you really think I'd risk my own neck if I wasn't certain it would pay off? A ship awaits us, though we don't sail for Highcastle. We sail for Pretanian waters, to anchor there until your father gives his response. If he declines, it's simple enough to chain you in irons and drop you into the sea. Preferably while they all watch from shore."

The damned bastard. The bastard. It was a brilliant plan and I hated him for it because he was right. Father would demand proof of life and all Callum would have to do was haul me up, chained, and dangle me over the crashing waves. Perhaps the threat on my life would be enough for father to sacrifice his word, for once, and kill Callum the moment he set foot on Pretanian soil. But Callum was clever enough not just to bet on my father's honour – he'd not set foot anywhere but Umberwood, shielded by his ancestral home and its considerable warriors.

Callum chuckled."That's right, little prince. I know more about you than you could ever imagine, which is why I'm offering my granddaughter to sweeten what is certainly a bitter deal to you. I know how you feel about her and, if you help me, I'll help you bind yourself to her irrevocably."

I stilled. Had he not heard me blurt out "never" mere moments ago? He certainly had, which could only mean he'd assumed my visceral reaction was against his pardon and not his offer of marriage. But then, why did he think I'd even want...

With a flash of rage so potent I nearly roared, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

It wasn't Sam Winters who'd been in contact with Callum. It wasn't even his bitter, haughty wife. No, there was another Winters who knew me far better than Sam. Another Winters who cared deeply for my fate in Ardalone. Another Winters who would do anything for a throne. Anything, including convincing her grandfather to kidnap me and keep me from marrying anyone else.

Adelaide.

Lurking like a snake in my own court, ready to strike as she always had been. If only I'd known. If only I'd guessed at her desperation. If only I'd realized that my half-hearted promise to her all that time ago would never be enough to still her meddling hand. They all trusted her in Highcastle. Adelaide would have known about my letter. She would have known I was still alive and working with Frederico.