The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 31

I was still smiling at Frederico's revelation when I reached Beatriz and Rafael, the latter moaning about the weather. He tugged his cloak hood up around his head, seated atop his mount like a grumpy, squatting toad. He grumbled and complained, asking me how I could possibly survive in a kingdom with more rain than sunshine. Beatriz handed me the reins to my brown-eyed mare, studying my expression.

"Was my brother all that amusing?" she asked, while Rafael continued his litany of complaints in the background.

"Don't worry darling. It takes more than an angry brother to scare me off."

Her eyes flew back towards Frederico's tent and I chuckled, swinging myself into the saddle.

"Will you hurry up already? I'm almost soaked through and we haven't even left yet," Rafael complained. Beatriz, who seemed to have lost herself in her thoughts as she glared at Frederico's tent, shook herself from her stupor, rolling her eyes.

"You could always stay here, you know," she said, climbing into her saddle. Rafael fixed her with a flat, unimpressed look. Beatriz' cheek twitched up into a grin, her eyes slipping over me before she nudged her horse onward, leading us out from the forest.

We rode to the sound of Rafael's complaints, first about the water dripping from the trees, then about the curtains of rain blanketing the fields. I was too lost in my own head, eyes wandering frequently towards Beatriz, who'd thrown back her hood and seemed to be savouring the feel of the rain on her face, much to Rafael's indignation.

Something was happening between us. The thought ignited a warmth in my chest, an excited, sputtering little flame that seemed far too fragile but remained far too intoxicating. Frederico had all but confirmed that Beatriz had not obeyed when he'd ordered her to leave me alone, which meant that she enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed hers. It was a delicious thought, weaving itself among visions of her bare bronze skin and self-assured grin. Even Frederico's threats weren't enough to temper whatever had taken root inside me.

But there was a logical part of my mind begging for attention. As much as I hadn't enjoyed them, there was truth in Frederico's words. I would one day return to Pretania, as he'd said, but that day did not need to be soon, as he'd assumed. Not when all that awaited me there was a conniving debutante eager to sink her claws into me for the sake of a royal title. I missed my family, but I had a feeling I might miss this new Ardalonian family I'd been folded into too. One person in particular, the rain sluicing through her braid in front of me.

As we rode, the fields around us grew more organized, neat rows of crops springing from the earth. Squat, one-room cabins dotted the landscape, the farms growing more expansive as we rode. But no workers tilled the soil or harvested crops. It was an odd sight, such bountiful fields with no one working them. I would have assumed the peasants were huddled indoors to avoid the weather, but no smoke rose from the chimneys. Beatriz and Rafael didn't seem to take any notice, but coupled with my unease from earlier, my eyes finally tore themselves from the rider ahead of me to better survey my surroundings.

Besides the rain and Rafael's complaints, the day was silent. Not eerily so, but more silent than I'd grown accustomed to nonetheless. The insects did not hum in the fields, the birds did not call overhead. Just rain, pattering down upon us, with no one else in sight. Eventually, we crested a hill and our destination finally came into view. It was a humble thing, with only a few buildings taller than one storey, a busy inn dominating the north side of the central square.

"We'll go to the armorer first," Beatriz said, sliding a look to where Rafael had gone sullen and silent a quarter hour ago. "Then you can pout over a bowl of soup."