The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 20

Giles woke me early the next morning, the sun not even risen as he helped me dress. It was only when he opened the door to my sitting room that I realized what the rush was about.

"You take about as long as my sisters to get ready," Beatriz said, straightening from where she'd been leaning against the balcony doors, gazing out over the city in the pink, pre-dawn light. Once again, she was dressed all in black, her keen eyes looking me over. I wondered if she'd inspected the suite as well, or if she'd snooped in my personal correspondence at the writing desk. If she had, she'd have read the colourful account of her sister's actions I'd penned to Andrew in my latest letter. He was tied to one woman for all time now, it was only right to make him jealous of beautiful foreign princesses throwing themselves at me.

"Good morning to you too," I said, when I'd finally finished yawning for the seventh time that morning, "Did Frederico send you to escort me?"

"Less talking, more walking, your Highness," she said, stalking towards the door. Behind me, Giles let out a harrumph, but said nothing more as he set about tidying the bedchamber.

Beatriz was already half a flight down by the time I made it to the stairs, making no attempt to slow her pace. I finally caught up to her in the empty entrance hall, the rest of the palace only just rousing. As she walked, I studied her and the way her gait was balanced, even, and grounded. Nothing like the floating, graceful steps of other noble ladies, but then I wouldn't have expected someone whose steps glided like a swan to be able to take down a pair of thugs in an alley.

"I've been meaning to thank you," I said, as we began our ascent into the royal tower.

"Thank me?" she repeated, not even glancing my way.

"For the alley. You s-"

"I don't know anything about an alley," she said, cutting me a blazing side-eyed glance.

That stilled my tongue. Was I mistaken? Or was her look meant to silence me as we climbed past her family's bedchambers? I wasn't left much time to ponder before she came to a stop before a door that looked much like the others, shouldering it open without so much as a knock.

"Where's breakfast? I'm famished and I'm not waiting for you to finish your discussion," Beatriz said, sauntering in to a room that was as big as my entire suite. A massive table covered by a map of Ardalone dominated the room, though I noted with amusement that it was lacking the usual troop markers like a real war map. Either Prince Frederico was a geography enthusiast or he'd removed the markers prior to my arrival.

The prince himself was seated at a writing desk, fully dressed and looking as if he'd already been awake for hours, if the empty teacup beside him was any indication. He barely looked up from what he was writing, signing it with a flourish before rising.

"Patience is a virtue," he said to Beatriz, his brown eyes shifting to me. "Good morning, Thomas."

"Not one of mine," Beatriz grumbled, plunking herself in a seat next to a dining table set for two with a spread of breakfast foods. True to her word, she served herself and gazed out the window to the naval base below as she chewed, seemingly oblivious to the pair of us.

"I understand you wanted to speak with me," Frederico said, his words tearing my eyes from his sister. Once again, I was faced with the stony mask of a future king, though I noted a muscle quiver in his jaw when my eyes left Beatriz.

Protective brother indeed.

"Ana-Cristina threatened my life last night," I said. At the table, Beatriz nearly spat out her toast.

"What?" Frederico demanded.

"She showed up unannounced in an attempt to seduce me into her bed, then promptly threatened my life when I refused," I said. Frederico and Beatriz exchanged a look, but I could've sworn the princess snorted before returning her attention to her food.