**A/N: WHOA LOOK WHO'S BACK!! Previously, on The Rebel Prince...

- Frederico attempts to save Thomas by offering him passage on a ship bound for Pretania. Thomas refuses because he thinks Freddy can't save Ardalone by himself. Obviously, his decision had nothing to do with a certain twin...

- Beatriz and Rafael spend their mornings training Thomas so he'll be less of a useless fool the next time they encounter an enemy

- Frederico finally welcomes Thomas into his plotting, but Thomas has to draw the plan out of him since Freddy is not at all forthcoming. It turns out, Frederico has gone and married the daughter of a Vareinnian Grand Duke, much to the surprise of his allies, Rafael's uncles. Thomas pushes Frederico to utilize the commoners to back him, Frederico pushes Thomas to come up with another plan. Finally, Thomas writes a letter to be carried home by the Bazeran merchant vessel Frederico had wanted him to board.

~*~

The days trundled on as we crossed back northwest, into the gnarled old forest, past the inn we'd stopped at after fleeing Relizia. I'd sent a letter to Andrew, filled with enough personal information that he would know it was truly me even if the imprint of my signet ring on the wax seal wasn't enough. I explained Dulciana's coup, asking him to share the truth with as many of our allies as he could, as quickly as possible. I asked him to petition father for aid, though I knew nothing would come of it. At the very least, they'd know I was alive. I didn't doubt that Andrew would curse me for sending a letter on Frederico's merchant vessel rather than boarding it myself.

"Stubborn, contrary Thomas," he'd groan, "Never doing as he's told." The thought made me grin, but the truth remained that overthrowing a tyrannous queen was far more important than waltzing with debutantes and petitioning my father for aid, safe in Highcastle.

Some part of me wondered whether putting my own royal neck on the line would be enough of a statement to incite any sort of action on father's part. I wasn't so sure I wanted to find out, though, for fear that even my life would not be enough to compel him to endanger Pretania by lending support to Frederico.

Beatriz and Rafael continued training me, much to my weary muscles' chagrin. With my sunburnt skin settling into a crisped shade of brown and my blisters hardening into callouses, I looked far less like foreign nobility and far more like the Carvalho men who rode with us. Unfortunately, appearances didn't make me any better with a sword.

Rafael and I had mended our fences, our loyalty to Frederico outweighing the miscommunication that had soured him towards me in the beginning. He was easier on me in training than Beatriz was, though perhaps that was because he was afraid of accidentally crushing my soft courtier's body with his brute strength.

Beatriz, on the other hand...

"Perhaps if you gave me a bow I'd stop scuffing my trousers," I said grumpily, flat on my back in the dirt after parrying with her. We'd ridden out from the treed canopy that morning, Beatriz delaying our training until the end of the day when the ground wasn't so riddled with treacherous roots. The sun had baked the rolling hills and hissing grasses all day, the heat still unbroken as sunset rippled across the horizon.

"If you are being charged by royal guards, do you really think you'd be quick enough to equip, nock, draw, and fire your bow before they impale you with their sword?" Beatriz asked, trying vainly to brush away the sweat-slicked hair stuck to her forehead. Most of it was tamed back in a utilitarian braid, but the pieces that had freed themselves kept sticking to her face and dangling her eyes, affording me useful opportunities when they distracted her.

"I don't understand this Ardalonian hatred for bows. Your sister's men seem quite content with their crossbows."

Beatriz fixed me with a look, ignoring the hand I'd outstretched towards her to help me rise.

"Fine, idiota. Tomorrow you can prove how peerless you are with a bow," she said, hopping back a few steps and swinging out her arms. "You should know that I'll be the first to laugh if you aren't as good as you claim you are."

I chuckled as I pushed myself to my feet, taking the opportunity to pull my sweat-slicked shirt away from my chest. The air was a wonder against my skin, the heat oppressive when coupled with the exertion of duelling Beatriz. We'd camped on the bank of a river and I was counting the seconds until I'd be freed from training to dive into the water.

When I realized that Beatriz' eyes had fallen to the hem of my shirt and the bare skin I'd exposed by tugging at it, a most mischievous idea took root in my head. Perhaps if I distracted her, I'd finally succeed in besting her.

Or at least, that's what I told myself to excuse my actions.

"I'm tired of you pummelling me," I said, yanking the shirt up and over my head with my free hand. I chucked it away, Beatriz' eyes following as it settled into a sweaty clump on the ground. When they returned to me, she inspected the pale skin of my torso before meeting my gaze with a lifted eyebrow.

"Do you really think I've never seen a man's body before, idiota?" she asked.

I opened my mouth with some saucy response when she reached down and tugged off her shirt much the same way I had. I gulped, thankful for the band of cloth wound around her...

I cleared my throat, tearing my eyes away from where they'd wanted to wander.

"Have you never seen a woman, then?" Beatriz taunted. I looked everywhere but at her and her bare arms and shoulders and...parts that Pretanian girls usually kept corseted. She laughed, delighting in my reaction and punishing me with her practice sword. I tried to deflect her beating, but it was useless with her nearly naked body wielding it. She swept my feet out from under me and I landed with a huff, flat on my back again.

"Clearly you've never been to Bazera," she said, crossing her arms over her sparsely clothed chest, standing over me. I could barely look at her, at the expanse of bronze flesh on display. None of the other men seemed to think anything of it, the rest of them going about their evenings as if a half-naked princess was not something abnormal. Frederico was the only one who seemed to mind, his irritated gaze straying our way from where he was talking with Rafael and Vincente.

"Clearly," I said, accepting the hand she extended to haul me up. I kept the other hand fisted, resisting the temptation of reaching out to touch her bare skin.

I was doomed.

"I never understood how Pretanian girls stood being tied up in corseted cages all day," Beatriz said, running a hand over her stomach with a wince. "Barbaric, if you ask me."

When I managed to tear my eyes from her fingers, I realized she was laughing at me.

"Don't think such a distraction will work a second time," I said, pointing the practice sword at her. In response, she quirked an eyebrow, reaching around to the knot that fastened the band of cloth wound around her chest.

I chucked my sword away, running a hand through my hair as I tried not to sprint for the creek. Anything to abate the blood boiling in my veins, the heat that radiated from my stomach all the way to my toes. Toes that curled with delight at the thought of touching Beatriz' stomach.

Her laugh chased me, pealing heartily across the swaying grass.

"Come back!" she managed between bouts of laughter. "I'll put my shirt back on, you ninny Pretanian!"

I simply waved my hand above my head as if dispelling a cloud of gnats. Training was over. There was no way I'd be able to return and face her now, not when I wanted a different kind of physical activity from her. Some of the men were already bathing in the river, so I shucked my trousers and joined them, ducking my head under the frigid water to quell the lusty inferno burning inside me.

~*~

Beatriz and Rafael enjoyed themselves immensely over dinner. Rafael had joined us around the campfire, arriving without his shirt on. When he passed me a bowl of vegetable stew, he asked whether I could restrain myself from fleeing into the creek again at the sight of a naked torso. I flicked a cube of parsnip at him in reply, Beatriz' laugher heightening when Rafael plucked it from where it had stuck to his shoulder and ate it.

Frederico was not amused by our antics, sighing wearily at his sister's laughter the same way Andrew had so often sighed when Anne and I joked together. Whenever my eyes turned to Beatriz, I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye, his attention falling to his food whenever I looked his way. For a crown prince, he certainly was a stick in the mud, but for once, I couldn't blame him.

Because even after bathing in the chilly river and even though Beatriz had put her shirt back on, I well and truly couldn't stop thinking about her.

And Frederico had noticed.

Attempting to remain a tactful gentleman and not continue to stoke the prince's ire, I took my leave early, retiring to my bedroll to stare up at the stars. They'd grown more familiar now, though I'd made up my own names for many of the constellations. I tried to focus on them instead of Beatriz, my attention still drawn her way as she, Frederico, and Rafael conversed by the fire. When she laughed, I couldn't help but look over to see who had provoked it. When she spoke, I found myself straining my ears in an attempt to hear what she was going to say, despite the distance separating us.

It was infuriating and intoxicating all at the same time. I was no stranger to this tug, but it had never come to any good end before. The last person to have captured me under this spell had used it against me, mercilessly. But somehow, the thought of equating her with Beatriz was repulsive. Beatriz didn't want anything from me, besides loyalty to her brother. If anything, she wanted to help me, as evidenced by the bruises blooming on my torso from my earlier training.

The thought of our practice session had me tossing in my bedroll, of the casual way she'd tossed her shirt aside as if it were a pair of gloves or a hat. Clearly I had never been to Bazera, if such states of undress were not abnormal there. Clearly she knew enough about Pretania to call me at my own game and take it one – or several – steps further.

I rolled onto my side, all possibility of sleep erased now that I'd gotten to thinking about the infamous shirt removal again. A few paces away, Rafael snored gently. Tucked under one of the few trees, Frederico's chest rose and fell, his face turned away from me. Beyond him, however, Beatriz' bedroll was empty. I swung my gaze back around to the fire, but she wasn't there either.

Deciding that I might as well go seek some company rather than lay awake thinking about said company, I shucked my bedroll and rose. The soldier on watch glanced my way before returning his attention to the fields around us. I cast a look around, but there were no extra shadows lingering among the sleeping men. Where had she gone?

Scraping a hand through my hair, I debated the merits of splashing more cold water on my face when it suddenly occurred to me that I knew exactly where Beatriz had gone, now that the rest of the men were asleep. She'd been just as sweaty as I was, which meant she was likely taking advantage of our riverside campsite much the way the others had.

I cursed as I dropped myself back down, forcing my eyes up to the heavens and far away from the river. There would be no sleeping now, not when thoughts of Beatriz bathing now joined the ones of her fingers splayed across her bare stomach. A wicked part of me whispered that I ought to go join her, to see how she would react if I dove in after her. The more sane part of me shrieked an alarm, much as it had when I'd fallen so hard for Adelaide, so long ago.

These were treacherous waters. It was one thing, pining after Adelaide and chasing after her in the relative safety of Highcastle Palace. It was quite another thing to be a fugitive in the company of a usurped king whose sister had tried to kill me on multiple occasions.

Adelaide. It had been a long time indeed since I'd been able to think her name without reliving the onslaught of all that she had put me through. It was the first time that I didn't reflexively shove the name from my mind, packing it away to inspect later. The thought of her no longer paralyzed me, which had me wondering if I was finally free of her. It would be a blessing, if true, but I'd only know once I saw her again.

If I saw her again.

The thought came as naturally as breathing, but it gave me pause. Not because I thought I'd meet my end on Ardalonian soil, but rather because I didn't long for home anymore. Yes, the comforts of a feather bed and a proper bath were enticing, but where I'd once yearned to escape this country of endless sun and oppressive heat, I now had no intention of leaving. I'd proven as much in refusing to board the merchant ship, but I hadn't realized how great a part my newfound group of friends had played in that decision. If I was being honest, one person in particular.

And if I was being even more honest, I had no idea whether she thought of me nearly as often as I thought of her, which was problematic. She was immune to the charms I'd once thought irresistible. I had no idea how to woo a woman like her, let alone if a woman like her even wanted to be wooed. Throwing an arm over my eyes, I sighed. There was only one way to find out, though Frederico wouldn't be at all happy about it.

Unfortunately for Freddy dearest, though, I found I didn't much care what he thought.

~*~

**A/N: So...um...HI READERS! I've clawed my way back from the void. Truth be told, I got a new job (yay!) but one that required me to create and present a bunch of presentations, which ate up ALL my spare time (boo!) 

Which brings me to my question: do you guys prefer that I update chapters as soon as I write them (which can be totally random) or on a weekly schedule? Cast your vote by commenting below:

--> "As soon as they're available, duh!! MORE STORY NOWWW!"

--> "Weekly, obvi!! That way I'll know when to check back!"

Oh, and before I forget, the perennial reminder: If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment!! TTFN lovelies :D**