I spent the remainder of the ball following Dulciana around like a very obedient puppy. She conversed with other nobles in Ardal, pausing briefly to introduce me before resuming her discussions. Once again, I had to fight to keep my eyebrows from lifting at the things she said to some of them.
"It's truly terrible that the commoners are demanding so much from you," she said to the Duque Dellanos, the man whose family controlled the plains, where most of the farms of Ardalone were found. "In my opinion, they should be content with a roof over their heads and food in their bellies in exchange for their work. We cannot start paying them wages because that would simply be giving in to their unreasonable demands."
Then, to the Duque Delminas, she said, "I hope you know that I am in full agreement with my father, that you should not be punished for disciplining those who work under you. You are their duque, you may punish disobedience and laziness however you see fit. You need not fear, for if they dare to plead their case before us, we will support you."
It was an effort not to bristle with the casual way Dulciana dismissed the "discipline" of Ardalone's commoners. Father's foreign affairs advisor, Lord Wentworth, had mentioned that such treatment was one of the many reasons the common folk were so restless and primed to rise. Most were barely paid, earning only food and shelter in return for their work, which meant that an injury or illness could see them evicted from their homes and starving.
But I held my tongue and maintained my foolish grin, bowing and nodding and politely kissing the hands of the duques' wives, the duquesas.
I met the Duque Delbosque and his wife, a jovial pair who seemed genuinely happy to speak with Dulciana and genuinely curious about me. I wondered whether it was all just a pretense, as after having spent time in Ardalone's court, I could see why the rumours called it a snake pit. I doubted that any truly kind person could survive here.
The Duque Delmar was the only one of the four dukes in attendance without his wife, whom Dulciana pointedly inquired after. She ended the conversation with a quip about his wife's frequent illnesses when the duque mentioned that she was home, in bed, with a sore throat.
"It makes one wonder what could possibly be happening in your home to make the duquesa so ill all the time," Dulciana said in parting.
I pursed my lips to keep from smirking at the look on the duque's face. Dulciana's sass was almost amusing, now that it wasn't directed my way.
Almost.
Because the moment we exited the ballroom at the end of the night, her facade of coquettish, savvy courtier fell and the mean, angry Dulciana I'd grown used to returned. We parted ways in the entrance hall, with her tearing her hand from mine when I took it to kiss it farewell - an action the few remaining nobles had most certainly noticed. In response, I shrugged by idiot prince shrug and climbed the stairs to my bed.
The next morning, Giles brought breakfast to my suite with little news, the servants just as surprised as the nobles were about Frederico and Beatriz' surprise return. With naught to do but a state dinner with the Ambassador and the duques that evening, I dressed and prepared myself for more wandering about the airy palace, perhaps to find a library or try my luck at discovering the secret corridors once again.
I whistled to myself as I jogged down the stairs, the cooler morning air a welcome respite from the heat of the past few days. It wouldn't last, but I intended to make the most of it while I could.
I was nearly to the bottom when Ana-Cristina stepped out from the shadows, startling me so thoroughly I nearly tumbled down the last three steps.
"Goodness, you certainly know how to startle a man. How are you faring this morning?" I said by way of greeting, once I'd regained my balance. I used my bow to subtly inspect the tower stairwell and entrance hall.
She'd come alone, which meant that I'd have to tread carefully.
"Forgive me," she smiled, dipping a perfect curtsey, "But I wanted to be sure to catch you before you left your room for the day. I was hoping I could thank you for our dance last night by taking you on a tour of High Relizia?"
"That would be lovely," I said, omitting the fact that Ambassador Wells had already given me the grand tour. More time with Ana-Cristina meant more time to figure out exactly why our paths kept crossing and who was behind it. "Perhaps this afternoon?" I suggested.
"I was hoping to go now," she said, brazenly linking her arm with mine, leading me out into the sun-filled entrance hall.
Right. Clearly this "tour" would be on her terms and not mine. But I wasn't about to give in so easily.
"Is this...entirely proper?" I asked, casting a look around for some sort of chaperone, as any Pretanian idiot prince in his right mind would do. I didn't much care whether or not we were alone, but the fact that Ana-Cristina didn't either was more concerning. It felt a little like stepping into the jaws of a trap to leave the palace, alone, unescorted, with an unwed princess.
In response to my hesitation, she tilted her head.
"Ah yes, I forgot how they do things in Pretania. We don't follow such stringent rules in Ardalone, especially when the rest of the nobility will be out calling or riding in their landaus. Would you be more comfortable if I arranged for a chaperone?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities."
A taunt, how interesting.
Two could play at this game, I decided, throwing Pretanian propriety to the wind.
"Not at all. It is your virtue that is my concern," I said, fixing her with my most dashing grin, "Unless you haven't heard about us rakish Pretanian princes."
"I've heard a great deal about Pretanian princes from Dulciana," she said, a slow, seductive smile curving her lips. "Though I feel that you deserve the benefit of the doubt."
"Oh?" I asked as she led me out into one of the gardens.
"She thinks you're all arrogant bastards," Ana-Cristina said, watching for my reaction at her profanity out of the corner of her eye. "Though I think you were quite the gentleman for stepping in last night."
Cursing and a ride without a chaperone. Ana-Cristina was going to be more of a handful than I'd anticipated.
"You have your sister to thank for that," I replied, "Though I still wonder why a beautiful princess like you would need me as an excuse not to dance with her four handsome suitors."
That stilled her tongue, her smile vanishing. She pulled her arm from mine, whether because the question had been too probing or because she was very, very good at this game, I didn't know.
"The stable is just ahead," she said, "We have quite the selection of horses, though most are used for drawing carriages rather than pleasure rides. I'm sure we'll find something to suit your taste."
Interesting. The mention of her suitors had flustered her, effectively curtailing her flirtation. Not something I would have expected from someone who had so eagerly discussed them with her sisters over dinner.
I filed that away as I tipped my head back to enjoy the sun, gull cries echoing in the distance against a backdrop of crashing waves. We strolled through the garden in silence and I had to keep from smirking when Ana-Cristina kept opening her mouth as if she were about to speak, only to close it again.
She opened it once more when we reached the stable doors, almost all the way across the palace grounds, only to be interrupted by a gleeful shriek from across the garden.
"Ana! Ana, wait for me!"
We both turned to see little princess Sofia bounding across the grass, a governess hastening after her. I cringed when the governess seized the younger princess by the arm, brandishing a finger in her face as she scolded her. Behind them, seated beneath a tree, was the other younger princess, Brigida, a book forgotten in her lap.
"You should go on and choose a horse," Ana-Cristina said, her eyes on the governess and her now crying littlest sister. "I won't be long."
She set off across the lawn, her shoulders thrown back and her chin tipped up as she approached the governess and wailing princess. I decided not to heed Ana-Cristina's request, instead slinking back into the cool shadows of the stable entrance to wait and see what she would do.
Rather than storm over and rage at the governess, as I guessed Dulciana would have done, Ana-Cristina approached with a frigid smile, bending down to gather her youngest sister in a hug. Her smile softened when she looked down at Sofia, saying something that had the younger princess nodding, swallowing her tears.
When Ana-Cristina looked back up at the governess, the older woman seemed to almost crumple into herself at the ferocity in the princess' gaze, wringing her hands at whatever had been said. The governess muttered something, reaching for the younger princess, who only shied away into Ana-Cristina's arms. The elder princess straightened, her hand still stroking Sofia's hair, saying something that had the governess curtseying low, holding the reverence for longer than was necessary.
I took a step back into the stables, reassessing my initial impression of Ana-Cristina. I'd assumed she was no more than an obedient follower, keen to obey her oldest sister's commands, but now I realized that she was just as dangerous as Dulciana. Where her sister was harsh, vocal, and intimidating, Ana-Cristina hid her cunning behind her flirtatiousness and beauty, a gentler approach but still just as manipulative as her sister. She could have easily screamed at the governess for the way she'd treated Sofia, but she hadn't.
Instead, Ana-Cristina had played the role of peacekeeper, which had me wondering how many times she'd played such a role in the past, waiting in the wings to clean up after her brash older sister.
They were a clever pair, of that much I was now certain.
I was so lost in thought as I sauntered down into one of the side aisles of the stables, inspecting the horses, that I only heard the humming when I passed the open stall. The occupant seemed to realize it at the same time I had, her veiled face turning towards me when I doubled back to be sure I wasn't seeing things.
There she was, the mysterious Beatriz, grooming a dark horse with her own royal hands, humming to herself as she worked.
Only now, she most certainly wasn't humming. And from what I could see of her face, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was not happy to see me. She turned back to the horse without a word, her brown eyes having narrowed when they'd met mine.
"Hello, there. I hope you'll forgive me for startling you," I said, throwing on my idiotic grin. "I don't believe we've been introduced yet. I'm Thomas."
She continued to ignore me, brushing her horse's flank as if I hadn't even spoken. When the silence stretched on between us, I wondered whether perhaps she only spoke Ardal.
"Buenos di-" I began, in my heavily accented Ardal.
"I know who you are," she interrupted curtly, her English slightly more accented than that of her sisters. She didn't even bother to look at me when she spoke.
"You must be Beatriz," I continued, offering my most gallant bow, "The last of the princesses I've so looked forward to meeting."
This time she did look around at me, disbelief and disgust warring in her gaze.
"Have my sisters disappointed you so thoroughly that you're hinging your marriage hopes on me?" she asked.
I blinked, my idiotic expression slipping into one of pleasant surprise as I quickly reassessed the veiled princess. Wayward, I concluded. That was why she'd been sent to a convent. For while the veil hinted at a blushing, pious girl, the mouth spewing such words most certainly didn't belong to a meek, mindless woman.
She must have mistaken my impressed inspection of her as a leer, for it earned me a disgusted snort and a shake of her head before she turned away. She was taller than I'd expected, almost my height, and she tended to her horse with practiced, easy movements that showed she was not inexperienced at such a task.
"Thomas?"
Beatriz shook her head again at the sound of Ana-Cristina's voice, muttering something that almost sounded Bazeran rather than Ardal. Something in the way her posture had stiffened at the sound of her sister's voice told me that she would be displeased if Ana-Cristina were to discover her here. Hoping to smooth over what had certainly not been a pleasant first conversation, I took a step back, out of the stall.
"A pleasure to have met you," I said quietly.
"I cannot say the same," Beatriz muttered, without missing a beat, continuing to groom her horse.
Unable to resist the urge to win the last word with her, I opened my mouth to say something about her manners when Ana-Cristina appeared at the end of the aisle. Snapping it closed, I dug my hands into my pockets, resuming my sauntering inspection of the horses.
"I simply cannot choose," I said, my idiot grin returning as I hurried over to head Ana-Cristina off before she discovered her sister. She tilted her head again, her flirtatious smile returning.
"Then allow me to help you," Ana-Cristina said, linking her arm with mine again to lead me back the way she'd come.
It might've been my imagination, but I could've sworn I heard a scoff from somewhere behind us. It took all my effort not to turn around to see if Beatriz was watching us, the idea of a ride suddenly not nearly as enticing as continuing my verbal sparring with the veiled princess.
**A/N: Well, well, well...we learn even more about Ana-Cristina and have our first encounter with Beatriz. What are all you shippers thinking? Because from the comments, it seems everyone is all over the map about who to ship with Thomas! And what about Dulciana and her comments to the duques? A facade or her real thoughts? (SO MANY QUESTIONS!!) Haha I hope you enjoyed it and, if you did, please take a moment to vote and comment! :) **