Touring High Relizia with Ana-Cristina was very different from touring with Ambassador Wells. For one, the rest of the city's nobles were out calling on one another, stopping their carriages to talk and calling out their greetings from their shaded porticos as we passed. We moved at a snail's pace, but with each conversation and introduction, I filed away more and more knowledge about Ardalone's nobility.
"They seem to like you," I said, as we rode away from the Duquesa Dellanos' carriage, she and her two daughters inside. They'd spent a great deal of time asking about me and Dulciana in Ardal, while I smiled and attempted to look as politely bored as I could. To her credit, Ana-Cristina dodged each question effortlessly, steering the conversation, like any skilled courtier would, to safer topics of fashion and weather.
"Everybody likes me," she said, tilting her chin with one of the smuggest smiles I'd ever laid eyes on. "That is why I am father's favourite and why my birthday ball is always the grandest."
I fought to keep from laughing, instead opting for my rakish grin.
"How fortunate am I, then, to have the pleasure of your company for an entire morning," I said, turning my eyes back forward when she fixed me with that flirtatious grin once again.
The more we rode, the more I realized that Ana-Cristina's invitation was not meant so much as a thank you, but rather as a deliberate attempt for the pair of us to be seen together. We stopped at nearly every house and carriage and she was sure to throw at least one flirtatious look my way every time.
Interesting, given the king's directive yesterday. Then again, Dulciana and Ana-Cristina probably thought I was some hapless prince, easily beguiled by a beautiful girl. I knew what they were doing, but for now, I'd decided to play along.
All the better to learn their plan, after all.
When rounded the corner towards the barrio Delminas, the High Relizian neighbourhood where the Duque Delminas and his liege lords lived, Ana-Cristina reined in her horse.
"I think perhaps we ought to head back," she said, tearing her eyes from the carriage parked before the sprawling Peñarisco palacio a moment too late. I registered her unease and haste to leave, but I was far too curious not to press on.
"I haven't seen this quarter yet," I lied, running an appreciative gaze over the intricate metalwork and gold filigree adorning Duque Alejandro Peñarisco's home.
"Father will be furious if we're late to luncheon," Ana-Cristina said, turning her horse around, leaning over to drop her voice and add, "I promise I'll show you more some other time."
A lesser man would've been swayed by the smoulder in her eyes and the way her décolletage was on proud display as she leaned towards me.
But I was not a lesser man.
"I'm sure we won't be late to luncheon," I said simply, nudging my horse forward. Follow or leave, she had her choice, but I intended to see why she was so hesitant to flaunt our ride before the very duque who had questioned my intentions the night before.
To Ana-Cristina's credit, she didn't so much as mutter an oath as she caught up to me, the only evidence of her displeasure the stiffness of the courtier's smile she now wore.
"The Duque Delminas does not take too kindly to strangers," she said, "Though I noticed that you and he exchanged a few words last night."
Of course you did, I thought. Shrewd women, these princesses.
"One would think that a man whose industry relies on exports would be most interested in meeting new arrivals, especially royalty," I said.
Ana-Cristina said nothing, the words dying on her lips as the front door of the Peñarisco household opened, a pair of men striding out. The first I recognized as the duque himself, attired yet again in finery that befit a noble richer than most. But the older man beside him, with greying hair and pale skin, did not appear to be Ardalonian at all.
"Perhaps we should return," Ana-Cristina said, reining in her horse at the sight of the two men. I didn't, instead maintaining my pace.
My approach was noted first by the duque, as one of his servants opened the ornate gate to the street for the older man. I offered the duque a nod, my idiot prince grin in place, his eyes sliding to Ana-Cristina then back to me. But rather than scowl or sneer, as I'd expected after our conversation last night, he stiffened, inclining his head.
Well, that was certainly interesting. I'd thought Ana-Cristina was hesitant to approach the duque's home because of his overzealous suitor of a son, or perhaps because the duque had questioned my intentions toward Dulciana. But now that the duque himself was acting with such restraint, perhaps it was something else...
I learned what that something else was very quickly.
"Your Highness."
The voice was Pretanian, without a hint of an Ardal accent, and it belonged to the older man, who had now paused in climbing into his carriage upon noticing me. He took a step down, offering a most respectful bow as I reined in my horse.
Something about him was familiar, but as I inspected his lined face, I couldn't place him.
"You are looking well, your Highness. I trust your journey was a safe one. Crossings from Pretania can be rough, on occasion," the man continued, his shrewd eyes inspecting me as he straightened. Despite his age, he was still solidly built, tall and sturdy as if he'd once been a warrior. His accent, however, was decidedly northern, just like...
Just like his son's.
The realization slammed into me so hard my grin faltered, a wave of emotions I'd fought down and shoved away suddenly roaring to life again.
Winters. Callum Winters.
Every muscle in my body tensed, fighting to keep everything that surname awakened from overcoming me. It was an effort to incline my head, to slide my idiot grin back onto my face. It was an even larger effort to talk, a thousand thoughts swimming in my head that I'd never wished to think again.
"It was very pleasant indeed," I said, hoping my tone came across as easy and relaxed, unlike the current state of my mind. "I must admit, it is quite a treat to hear an accent from home in such a faraway land. Tell me, Winters, I'd heard that you'd sailed away to the New World years ago. Was it not to your liking?"
Callum Winters' grin was wolfish, his eyes narrowing as he reinspected me, seemingly impressed that I'd already guessed who he was.
"The climate was not to my taste," he said, his eyes sliding to Ana-Cristina as she finally mustered the bravery to ride up beside me, "Everything is so much warmer and more pleasant in Ardalone. Especially the nobility."
Winters bowed to the princess, while the duque did the same behind him, still remaining silent.
"We wish you a pleasant day, Mr. Winters," Ana-Cristina said, shooting a wary look at the duque. "Come, Thomas. Before the sun rises so high it becomes oppressive."
For once, I was inclined to do as she asked, offering a parting nod of my own to the exiled lord and the duque.
Ana-Cristina prattled on as we rode, but it was a struggle to focus on anything she said. I found I didn't care who the grand statue in the main square park depicted, nor how many domesticated exotic animals the Duque Dellanos housed in his menagerie.
All I could think about was her. The one person in Highcastle I was determined to forget.
I blew out a sigh and Ana-Cristina's monologue paused.
"Is everything all right?" she asked gently. Thankfully, she didn't reach over to touch me, otherwise I'm fairly sure I'd have violently recoiled. I wouldn't be able to stand such a kindness, not when thoughts of...her, of her fondness for casually brushing my arm in passing, of her flirtatiously batting my shoulder now filled my mind.
"The heat," I said with a rueful grin. "You were right, it certainly does grow oppressive quickly."
She mirrored my smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. I was doing a poor job of concealing how profoundly the sight of the exiled lord had affected me and she had noticed.
It took an almighty effort, but I focused instead on the feel of the sea breeze on my face, the pounding heat of the sun on my head, and the steady clop of my horse's hooves beneath me. I could think about...her...later. Tomorrow. Next week. Hopefully never.
After today's meeting, I knew that I'd have quite the work to do to bury her back down into the darkest corners of my mind.
"I was saying that perhaps you and I could sit together at dinner tonight," Ana-Cristina continued, the smoulder back in her gaze as she regarded me. "I've so enjoyed our time together, getting to know you."
Whatever easy, arrogant reply I'd have normally spouted didn't come, my brain too fogged with memories I'd hoped to forget. I simply looked over at Ana-Cristina, unable to keep from lifting my eyebrows at her frankness.
"I was hoping you'd say the feeling was mutual," she said, a practiced blush creeping into her cheeks as she looked away with feigned modesty.
Feigned, because even as distracted as I was, I knew what she was trying to do. And I knew that she'd played this game many a time before.
"I find I'm at a loss for words," I said, finally managing to claw my thoughts out from under the weight of my memories.
Time for two to play at her game.
Before we reached the palace gates, before we were within earshot of the guards, I wheeled my horse around to stop hers, filling my eyes with a smoulder of my own.
"You know that I came here to fulfill a treaty," I said, holding her gaze. "Your father has made it abundantly clear who I am to choose..."
I paused and Ana-Cristina bit her lip, thoroughly drawn in by the lie I was spinning.
"But if the world were a different place," I continued, dropping my eyes for the briefest of moments to her lips, "Perhaps I could say the things you're hoping to hear from me."
The glint of triumph that lit her face before she hid it with a shy, modest blush was proof that I'd done exactly what she'd hoped to manipulate me into when she accosted me that morning. Winning such an admission from me, that I'd be open to considering her as my future bride if it weren't for the king's expectation that I marry Dulciana, was no doubt what Ana-Cristina was after.
And I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Dulciana had been the one to set her sister to such a task.
Either way, as I turned my horse around to ride back through the palace gates beside her, I knew that Ana-Cristina now thought she had me wound around her little finger. It was all I could do not to smirk at how easily I'd fooled her into believing me.
Idiot prince, indeed.
**A/N: Those of you who have read The Heiress Queen will recognize Callum Winters (and congratulations to those of you who'd guessed he'd make an appearance in this story!). What do you think he's doing in Relizia, and with the Duque Delminas no less? And what of Ana-Cristina trying to win a confession of attraction from Thomas? Things are getting tricky!
That being said, there are so many plots and subplots in this one that if things start to get confusing, please let me know. Chunks of the later half of this story are already written, so what might seem clear to me (since I know the ending) might be very unclear/confusing to you guys...which is exactly why your comments are so useful! It helps me edit my stories so that one day, hopefully, you can find them on a real-live bookshelf or in a library near you!
As always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment! Every single one is appreciated, especially since writing a guy like Thomas and maintaining his voice throughout is tricky business! Thanks for the encouragement, you lovely reader you :) **