A few hours later, as I sat swirling a glass of Kentshire whiskey at a card table, I wondered why Beatriz and Frederico had been so dramatic.

As he'd promised, Armando had escorted me to Lower Relizia, but not in the company I'd expected. Rather than a group of royal guards looking to spend their hard earned gold at a less than reputable establishment, I found myself slipping through the main High Relizian gate with a group of young noble men. Among them I recognized Guillermo Peñarisco, the son and heir of the Duque Delminas, the one I'd managed to upset when I'd won Ana-Cristina's first dance at her birthday ball.

Clearly his feelings about our mutual presence on such an excursion were similar to mine, as he demanded, in Ardal, why an idiot prince was among us.

"Because he's an idiot with plenty of gold," Armando said, "You can always wait until next week if you're so reluctant to take a foreigner's coin."

Guillermo was silent, but sullen after that.

Garbed in dark cloaks, Armando snuck the dozen of us through the gate, speaking briefly with the gate guards as he slipped each of them enough coin that they would look the other way.

Beyond the massive fortress wall, the streets of Lower Relizia were starkly different than those mere meters away. Houses crowded the street, with additions and extra storeys teetering over us, clotheslines criss-crossing the night sky above. In the moonlight, the colours were muted, but the chipped paint and crooked shutters were still apparent. Gone were the sprawling lawns and tinkling fountains, though from the storefronts we passed, it was apparent that this was a fairly well-off part of town, with jewellers, dressmakers, and expensive cobblers lining the street.

Armando didn't keep us on the main thoroughfares, however. He led us through a winding series of alleys, straying away from the larger streets lit by night merchants and hanging lanterns at each intersection. The others seemed to know where we were headed, trudging along behind the royal guard as they conversed among themselves in Ardal.

None of them spoke to me.

But I didn't mind. I'd wanted to visit Lower Relizia to get a feel for the commoners, not to befriend nobles. Left to my own devices, I was thankful that my appraisal of the city with wide-eyes and a swivelling head played very well into my disguise of idiot prince.

But idiot I was not, for even as Armando wove through alley after alley, I made sure to keep my bearings thanks to the stars overhead. We'd walked for a good quarter hour, due southeast from the High Relizian gate, when Armando finally came to a stop beside a nondescript door in a barrel-laden alley. The smell of brine and rotten fish filled the air, confirming my suspicions that we'd headed toward the docks where I'd first set foot on Ardalonian soil.

The smell didn't remain foul for long. The moment the door swept open and we were ushered inside, the sweet scent of jasmine and exotic sandalwood filled the air, chasing away the stench. Behind the ordinary door was a decidedly opulent entrance hall, though I didn't need to look any farther than the next room and its occupants to guess at the kind of establishment I'd been escorted to.

Like the regulars they were, the nobles sauntered into the massive sitting room just beyond, earning coos and greetings from the scantily-clad women draping themselves over furniture or the other patrons seated at a number of gaming tables. The far wall boasted a polished bar, where a keen-eyed older woman surveyed the lot of us as we entered. She and Armando exchanged a nod, her eyes lingering on me before she returned to pouring spirits.

Assessing the others, I took a seat at one of the card tables across from Guillermo Peñarisco, if only to eavesdrop on the Duque Delminas' son. Smiling like the polite idiot I was pretending to be, I splayed out more gold than was required, the Ardalonians at the table exchanging looks that could only be described as gleeful.

"Care for a drink, handsome?" one of the establishment's women asked, snaking a soft arm around my neck as she pressed her barely clothed self against my back. I fought from rolling my eyes, having forgotten that such a display of wealth would only earn me more attention from the employees of such a house.

"Sí, por favor," I said, emphasizing my Pretanian accent. Her arm lingered across my shoulders before she sauntered to the bar.

I lost the first hand on purpose, one of the other nobles who'd arrived with us collecting my gold and that of the others. From the way Guillermo Delminas kept throwing dark looks his way, I wondered whether I was in the company of another of the duques' sons.

"I thought you might enjoy a taste of home," the woman said, placing a glass of amber liquid on the table and draping herself across me as so many of her colleagues were doing to the other men at the table. I sniffed at it, not at all surprised that she'd brought me a glass of Kentshire whiskey, nor that she was able to speak my language.

This certainly was a high-end house of ill-repute.

"How very kind," I said, taking a sip. Very fine stuff, but strong.

"You are quite far from home," she persisted as I spread more gold on the table. "What brings a handsome man like you to a city like ours?"

"My betrothed," I said, gauging the bets of the others at the table.

"You poor thing," she said, nuzzling my ear. It was an effort not to bat her away, but I had a part to play.

Especially since Armando had taken up a place next to the bar, his eyes trained on me as he conversed with the older woman.

"She comes from a fine family," I said, smiling like a simpleton, "I am a lucky man, not a poor one."

"Perhaps I could-" she began, her fingers finding the buttons of my shirt.

This time I did reach up to stop her, mostly because I didn't want her to discover the knife I'd slipped into my jacket pocket in case Armando had anything up his sleeve.

"I'm here for the gaming, love," I said, removing her hand and patting it. "Your attentions are better spent elsewhere."

I didn't have to tell her twice.

"Pretanian prick is too good for our girls," snorted the man I suspected of being another duque's son.

"Why complain? That means more for you, Barcolino," another of the young nobles said. "With the foreign idiot's gold, you could buy all the girls you'd want tonight."

Barcolino. I kept my eyes on my cards, desperate not to let the recognition show on my face. He must be a son of the Duque Delmar, the most powerful of the duques, which explained the hostile looks from Guillermo Peñarisco.

As the night wore on and my gold dwindled, a strategic series of wins and losses designed to keep me at the table without being too much of a threat, I kept my ears open as the young nobles around me descended into loose-lipped drunkenness. Unlike them, I was careful to sip from my whiskey, Peñarisco and Barcolino both on their fourth glasses by the time I'd finished my first. At the bar, Armando simply watched the lot of us and I wondered whether he was waiting for the others to grow inebriated before he began causing mischief or if he was simply some sort of bodyguard for these rich, gambling nobles.

A few minutes later, however, I learned what the guard had been waiting for.

"Get off, you overpriced whore," Barcolino finally snapped, shoving away the woman who'd been sitting on his lap, playing with the lapels of his shirt as he alternated kissing her with gambling. "You're bad luck."

"Your terrible gambling is what's bad luck," one of the other nobles guffawed, gesturing for the discarded girl to come over to him. "Though I won't mind being the first to profit. Come here, beautiful."

"If you think a piece of trash like her is beautiful, you're setting your sights too low, Fuentes." Barcolino scoffed. "Your father would be disappointed in you."

"We can't all bed princesses," Fuentes cackled.

Armando's hand came down in a jovial clap on Guillermo Peñarisco's shoulder as he slid into the seat beside the duque's son. I hadn't realized that Peñarisco's face had gone puce as he glared at Barcolino and I guessed that this conversation was exactly the one Armando had been waiting for.

"Ah, so you're the lucky suitor, eh Barcolino? You really think she'll want to take a tumble with you?" Armando asked, spreading a few pieces of gold on the table to buy into the hand. Once again, I kept my eyes on my cards to make it seem like I didn't understand them.

"It doesn't matter what she wants. She will be mine, by order of the king," Barcolino said, tossing back the remainder of his drink. "Once we're married, she won't be permitted to say no."

At that, Peñarisco slammed his cards down on the table, his chair hissing against the luxurious Bazeran carpet as he stormed away towards the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Armando follow the Duque Delminas' son with his eyes.

"You're a lucky man, to win a wife as beautiful as her," Armando said, dropping his cards to fold.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Barcolino continued, his tongue running thanks to all the drink he'd been plied with. "Father bought her for me. We're supporting Prince Frederico's bid for the crown, as the king wishes. He rewards those loyal to him, something you pathetic lot ought to remember."

Armando didn't dignify that with a response, instead chuckling as he rose and sauntered away to the bar, where Guillermo Peñarisco was still fuming.

**A/N: Looks like our main man has found himself in the thick of some plotting! I know this one ended on a cliffhanger, which is why I'm planning on releasing the next chapter tomorrow once the results for the Fiction Awards are in.

Finally, I have a question for everyone. Other than Wattpad, is there another social media platform where you'd like to see more from the world of The Season and its sequels? Some of you already know that I'm on Twitter, but I'm curious if there are any other places you'd be interested in following content from this series. Comment here so I can get an idea about what you'd be interested in! :)

Thanks in advance and, as always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment! xox **