The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 21

Frederico was true to his word, having twelve vials of panacea delivered to my suite as I was dressing for the state dinner that night. Again I'd confined myself to my room, brooding over my decision and dreading how my future bride would take it. I didn't doubt that Frederico would have told the king, which was why I slipped a vial of panacea into my pocket to take to dinner with me.

I'd learned that one could never be too careful in Ardalone.

I had no interest in socializing that evening, sulking in a corner instead to monitor my betrothed's arrival. Surprisingly enough, Dulciana did not appear to be in any more foul a mood than usual. She arrived with Ana-Cristina, the pair of them chattering in Ardal before those of us waiting outside the dining room dipped polite reverences. The duques and their wives were all in attendance, including the pallid Duquesa Delmar, a pair of poorly concealed bruises etched along her collarbones.

Being the only one not to have bowed, the princesses' eyes found me almost instantly. I waved, not bothering with my idiotic grin, though the gesture alone was enough to cut Ana-Cristina's pretty mouth into a sneer. Something harsh tumbled from her lips, earning me a dangerous look from Dulciana. I held her gaze, taking a sick measure of satisfaction from the announcement awaiting her at dinner.

No matter that it meant I would be tied to her forever. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

Thankfully, I wasn't forced to wait much longer, the doors opening and the princesses sweeping in before the rest of us. I was shown to a seat at the opposite end of the table from the king. Dulciana was given the foot of the table, though she accepted the seat with grace, settling herself like a queen. She had attired herself appropriately tonight, a garland of gilded flowers nestled among her dark curls - as close to a tiara as she likely dared in her father's presence. Behind her, Armando and another of the royal guard took their positions, awaiting the king's arrival.

Our end of the table was populated by some of the duques' children, the Duque Delbosque's young daughter-in-law, Eliana, taking the seat to my left. She greeted me politely in Pretanian, the words dying on her lips as Dulciana silenced whatever polite conversation she'd have started with a cutting glare the moment she spoke.

But the man to her left was undeterred, a ring to match Eliana's shining on his left hand.

"I do not believe we've had the pleasure of meeting," he said to me, offering a dashing smile to Dulciana as he reached over to shake my hand, "Though I understand you've already met my wife. I am Alfonso Carvalho, heir to the Duque Delbosque."

"Enchanted, I'm sure," I replied, "Though you ought to consider yourself a lucky man with a wife as beautiful as yours."

Dulciana snorted as Eliana blushed prettily. Across the table, Inés appeared seemingly out of nowhere, meekly assuming the seat between Ana-Cristina and Dulciana. Belatedly, I wondered where Beatriz was, casting a glance down the table, only to catch Ana-Cristina's glare. She'd been wedged in beside the brutish eldest Barcolino boy, the one who had made such lewd comments in Lower Relizia, and was clearly not happy about it.

I wondered whether the king would be cruel enough to announce two betrothals that night as the servants whisked in steaming platters of fish and venison. Down the table, the king went through the same act of having his food tasted by yet another child, this one a stoic, fierce-eyed little girl, who chewed the meat and washed it down with a hearty gulp of his wine before it was torn from her fingers.

Prince Frederico, seated beside the king, was served from the same platter, before the servant bearing the tasted food hurried down to me. I was not offered a choice, the food piled onto my plate as Frederico watched, inclining his head when he finally caught my eye.