**A/N: As promised, another early update as a THANK YOU for putting me in first place for @thefictionawards Best Historical Fiction!! The voting closes on Aug 27 2017 so we still have a long time to go to hang on to the lead, but considering you guys rallied and put me in first within literal MINUTES of my last update, I have the utmost faith in you!
The link to vote is on my profile page, so keep spamming those +1 comments next to the line that reads "The Heiress Queen by MissKatey" on "The Fiction Awards 2017 - Voting" chapter!
Oh, and the picture above is the closest thing I could find to how I imagine Prince Frederico...happy reading!**
~*~
Ambassador Wells was waiting for us the moment we rode into the stable courtyard. Bobbing on his toes, I could tell that he was less than pleased when he realized who my riding companion was. Sliding from the saddle, I tried my best to ignore him as he wrung his hands, instead helping Ana-Cristina down from her horse.
Embracing my new role of enamoured idiot prince, I held her hand for a moment longer than necessary, bowing to kiss it before taking my leave.
"It has truly been a pleasure, princess," I said, my lips lingering for a beat longer than they should have.
The smile she fixed me with this time was nothing short of triumphant.
My own rakish grin didn't leave my face until I turned to walk away, Ambassador Wells falling in beside me.
"You've been summoned to meet with the king," he said by way of greeting, "We'd best hurry, he does not enjoy being kept waiting."
"Is something the matter?" I asked, as Wells waddled faster than I'd ever seen him move before. He pursed his lips, seeming to debate whether or not to say something.
Finally, when we'd entered the cool shade of the entrance hall, he cast a look around. Certain we were alone, he gestured for me to come closer.
"It was my understanding that the king ordered you to spend more time with Dulciana, not her sister," Wells said, fixing me with a stern look that one might use on an unruly toddler.
I straightened, emphasizing the height difference between us. It was one thing to play the part of idiot prince before the foreigners, but quite another for my own ambassador to presume to chide me.
"I was not aware that I was subject to the orders of a foreign king," I said. "I think my father would be very interested to hear how the king of Ardalone thinks it is his right to command the actions of a foreign prince."
Wells swallowed.
"Of course, of course," he said hurriedly, turning on his heel and gesturing for me to follow.
We walked the rest of the way in silence as I studied the ambassador. I'd been wary about whether to consider him an ally, but now he had demonstrated knowledge of a conversation I knew only one other person, besides the king, had witnessed.
Armando.
And what Armando knew, I didn't doubt that Dulciana knew.
But most confusing of all was why Wells was so distraught. If he'd learned of the king's orders from Dulciana, that meant they must surely be colluding in some way. But Dulciana's ultimate goal was to not marry me and avoid spending time with me. Why would Wells, her ally, be upset that her plan had worked?
If I'd doubted it before, I was now certain that my outing with Ana-Cristina had been Dulciana's idea, not the younger princess'. It was a clever plan, to disguise our very public outing as a thank you so that an 'idiot prince' wouldn't see it for what it was: an attempt to distract him from his rightful betrothed.
Thankfully, I'd played my part well. Too well, if the ambassador's reaction was any indication of the rumours that had begun to spread from the moment Ana-Cristina and I had left the palace together.
I'd have to watch my step in this tricky web of lies and deceit.
I inhaled to steel myself as we climbed a set of stairs leading up, above the ballroom. The hallway here was heavily guarded, but none so much as glanced our way as we passed, immobile sentries lined up in each alcove along the wall. At the end, a pair of doors emblazoned with the dragon of the royal house of Ardalone awaited us.
"The king awaits," Ambassador Wells said, bowing as he fished out a handkerchief to mop the sweat from his brow. At his words, the pair of guards flanking the doors pulled them open.
Before me, a massive ebony table stretched away into a long, pillared chamber, the king seated at the far end.
"At last, you decide to grace us with your presence," he said, the circle of advisors huddled at his end of the table immediately straightening as the doors clanged shut behind me.
In the deafening silence, I offered a bow.
"I was enjoying the sights of your lovely city," I said, knitting my hands behind my back.
The king harrumphed.
"All of you, out," he barked in Ardal. The men surrounding him hastily gathered their papers, dipping deep reverences before scurrying past me without so much as a glance. No side passages or service halls here, I noted, the columns framing windows that rose from the floor to the ceiling. To one side, the royal navy dockyard sprawled, while to the other, one of the palace's many gardens stretched out below.
Only one way out of this council chamber, it seemed. Which explained all the guards.
Deciding that the wiser course of action would not be to sass the king by taking the seat farthest from him across the massive table, I strode down towards him and the last remaining advisor.
As I drew closer, however, I realized he wasn't an advisor at all.
He was Prince Frederico.
I nodded in greeting, assuming the seat opposite him, to the king's left.
"Now that my son has returned, I have asked you here to discuss your upcoming marriage," the king said. Across the table, Frederico was studying me, his inspection decidedly neutral. No scowl or sneer on his face, but rather the guarded expression of a future king, one my very own brother had learned to perfect.
One that was very difficult to read, if you didn't know how to look beyond it.
Andrew's tells lived in his jaw muscles and hands, clenching when he was upset or angry and fidgeting when he was anxious. Hoping my study of one crown prince could help me read another, I began my perusal of Frederico by studying the hands he had clasped before him on the ebony table. Ringless, as I'd expected, but I couldn't tell whether it was a trick of the light or if there really was a paler band of flesh around his fourth finger. His hands didn't fidget or twitch, they simply sat there, as relaxed as he appeared to be.
He was at ease here, in the presence of his father, unlike his sisters.
"Of course, let's discuss marriage," I said, folding my hands on the table to mirror those of the crown prince. He watched the action as calmly, his brown-eyed gaze returning to mine.
But I caught the twitch. The brush of his thumb past that fourth finger, as if to check that there really was no ring there.
I couldn't help the smirk that sprang to my face, turning my attention to the king, lest the prince deduce that I'd honed in on one of his secrets.
It had been the wrong time to smirk.
"I understand you have not heeded my request and have instead been spending your time with Ana-Cristina," the king continued, nothing friendly in his gaze or tone.
"She is a fascinating young lady," I replied, "Certainly well-loved by your people. She was kind enough to offer me a tour of Suprelizia this morning."
"I do not know how things are done in Pretania, but in Ardalone, you spend your time with your betrothed and not her sister," the king snapped.
I looked to Frederico, who was still watching me with that unnerving calm, awaiting my reaction. He was taking no pleasure in my scolding by the king, as far as I could tell.
I decided it was as good a time as ever to change my course. I'd had enough of this man throwing his temper around as if he could cow me as easily as he'd cowed his daughters. It was high time he and his son learned that I could be a force to be reckoned with, if I so chose.
"With all due respect, your Majesty, the treaty did not specifically stipulate that I marry Dulciana, only that I marry one of your daughters," I said, the ice in my eyes enough to match the fire in the king's.
"You are correct," Prince Frederico said, drawing my gaze away from the red rage rising in his father's face. "However, it is in your best interest that you marry Dulciana and not another of my sisters."
A threat, albeit a veiled one, as his first words to me. That was unexpected.
"How do you figure that?" I asked him. To his credit, he didn't shrink against the ice in my glare, nor did he meet it with any fire of his own. He remained studying me in that calm, patient way of his.
"It does not matter how he 'figures' that!" the king snarled. "That is what I command, therefore that is what you shall do!"
"I am not an Ardalonian you are free to command," I fired back, careful to keep my tone level and my voice calm. Men like King Felipe fought best when they riled their opponents to shouting and blustering. All he could fling at me were words, words that could not be backed up with actions. As much as he was king, any punishment bestowed upon me would ruin his chances of of seeing the marriage treaty through.
They couldn't touch me here, not without consequences.
"You are bound by the treaty your conniving family has already attempted to bend to their will!" the king continued, naked hatred in his eyes now.
"I take it Princess Dulciana was never supposed to return to the shores of Ardalone, was she?" I asked him.
Distraction and deflection, the best way around direct attacks like those of the king.
"She was not," Prince Frederico answered, his lips twitching as the ghost of a smile passed across his neutral face. "But now she has and must be dealt with accordingly."
"That sounds a tad ominous," I replied. Frederico simply blinked, turning his attention to his fuming father.
"You will stop pursuing Ana-Cristina immediately," the king said, "And you will remember whose land you stand on, príncipito. As a man, I'd hoped you would see why Frederico must be the one to inherit the throne. Alas, it seems you are no more than a silly boy, made soft by your country's weak stance on women."
This time I really did fight to keep from grinning. The idiot prince ruse was working so well it had even tricked the king, misogynistic fool that he was. That he couldn't see how his daughters so skillfully manipulated those around them was disappointing, but not altogether unexpected from a man who thought of women as no more than ornaments.
Frederico was still studying me, however, and I wondered whether I'd managed to keep the smile entirely from my face. If I hadn't, the prince had surely noticed, just as I'm certain he'd noticed his sister's connivery.
Why else would he and his father-dearest be pressing me so hard to uphold my end of their treaty?
"While your opinions on my country are wholly unwelcome, I will take your words under advisement," I said, rising with little more than a nod as a bow to the king and his son. "Excellent chat, we'll have to do it again sometime."
My footsteps echoed on the polished stone floor as I strode back towards the exit, sorting through everything that I'd uncovered during my brief meeting with the king and the crown prince.
For one, the crown prince was hiding something. More specifically, something to do with the ring I suspected usually rested on his very important finger. He was also incredibly talented at hiding his thoughts and feelings. Besides the tiniest of smiles that had graced his face when I'd guessed at the king's plan of being rid of his daughter for good by shipping her to Highcastle, I'd learned very little about his stance on my future marriage.
Obviously he'd prefer that I marry Dulciana and thus block her claim to his throne. But he hadn't fought and blustered about it. He hadn't thrown his weight around as the king had. Instead, he'd spent his time studying me.
Between the two men I'd just faced, it was the crown prince I now viewed as the more formidable adversary. If we were forced to become adversaries, that is.
Pretania needed Frederico on the throne, especially with Andrew's slight in choosing Libby over Dulciana. Politically, it had been a foolish move, but it wasn't a mess I couldn't clean up for my brother.
It was just a matter of determining what, besides marrying Dulciana, I could do to win Frederico as an ally.
~*~
**A/N: So with this author's note, I'm going to do a little question and answer, since I see that a lot of you are asking a lot of the same questions about last chapter:
1) Who is Callum Winters?
Callum Winters is the former Lord of Umberwood, father to Sam Winters (from The Heiress Queen) and grandfather to Adelaide Winters (from The Debutante). He was exiled from Pretania by King Graham at the end of The Heiress Queen, but I won't say any more about it because I don't want to spoil any more than I already have.
2) Who is Adelaide Winters?
Adelaide was a debutante in Libby's season. We meet her on Libby's very first day at court, learning that she is a childhood friend of Andrew, Thomas, and Anne because Lord and Lady Winters are very close friends of Queen Isabelle. She is one of the final three debutantes Andrew must choose between at the end and is easily one of the most poised, groomed, and graceful girls in the palace. She also happens to have a backstory involving Dorian Fletcher and Prince Thomas that, again, I won't get into because of spoilers...but more on that in the coming chapters.
3) Whyyyyy are you making this so complicated, Kate?!?!
Because I'm evil like that.
Hahaha kidding! But seriously, it's because I want to see whether I can pull off a plot as complicated as the one I have imagined for this story. It is no secret that the work I post here is raw, unedited, and posted as I write it. This is also a story that will be quite unlike the others that I have written, if you haven't already deduced as much. The plot of Rebel Prince has come to be thanks to a combination of factors from my previous stories. As much as I wish I could give you guys a recap of each of those past stories, I'm dedicating all my writing time now to churning out new updates rather than writing plot synopses. The best thing I can do is to recommend that you post comments if you're confused and I (or other readers) will try to answer them as best we can.
I will, however, ask that you please try not to spoil past books for other readers. The Heiress Queen especially, as it's become clear that a number of readers haven't gotten around to finishing it yet.
Finally...
LET'S KEEP SPAMMING THOSE VOTES!!!! I am beyond blown away by you guys and all your efforts to keep me in first for The Fiction Awards - Best Historical Fiction! Like last year, the competition is tough once again and it's going to be a long road, but if you guys each take a moment to post a few +1 comments as votes (not here, but on The Fiction Awards story!), we'll keep that lead without batting an eye!
Keep voting, keep reading, and keep commenting, my lovelies! You all put such a smile on my face every day, I'm so thrilled I can return the favour with my writing :) **