Charles Lancaster was quite pleased to run into the only woman who had ever interested him. Even more so since her worthless husband wasn't around. A captivating mind like Catherine du Pont's was wasted on such a man.
She had strange dressing habits, laughed too much for a noble lady, and seed to have no sense of decorum after living inside the palace for a while and being allowed too much freedom but that didn't matter to him. As long as he was able enjoy her sharp wit, he could tolerate nearly anything.
Still, he couldn't deny that he hated how coldly she treated him. He had been warr toward her than anyone else since the beginning. He had done his very best to be attentive so why had she fled from him straight into that dunce's arms?
Sigmund's spy network had kept him inford about what the third prince and princess got up to. They snuck out of the palace frequentlynobody knew where they wentand the rest of their ti was spent either visiting Mariela or with each other.
Hearing how much ti they spent together, especially in each other's arms, made Charles' blood boil. He was a hundred, no, a thousand tis better than that idiot prince. Catherine had married a jester solely to have him make her laugh.
"Has your winter passed peacefully?" he asked the taciturn woman next to him.
She replied stiffly. "I would say so. How has your estate fared?"
"Quite well. Everything is taken care of until I must return at the end of the court session."
Charles was pleased she was inquiring about his estate even though he knew it was nothing more than a formality. She wasn't fond of formalities according to Sigmund's spies. She wore commoner's clothes when she wasn't attending formal functions, never drank tea if she could avoid it, and preferred to be called Katie over Catherine.
He couldn't see it. Such an exquisite creature shouldn't have such a diminutive pet na. Catherine suited her better. But he supposed that was part of his problem. He had done his best to be the kind of suitor any young lady would wish forbut Catherine du Pont wasn't any young lady.
Whatever Alpheus had done to woo her had suited her unique sensibilities. Despite Sigmund's earlier reassurances that she was little more than his nanny, all reports now pointed to Catherine being in love with her husband.
"If you'll excuse , I must go visit the second princess," she said crisply. "She is most distressed being without her mother and sisters at this ti and I am the closest thing available."
So she was giving him the slip. Again. His fists clenched as he thought about all the tis she desperately tried to escape his presence as quickly as possible but managed to keep his expression and voice calm.
"By all ans. Good day, Princess Catherine."
"Good day."
Catherine disappeared around the corner and Charles returned to his friend's side in a dark mood. He noticed imdiately and patted his shoulder in a show of sympathy.
"Did you run into Katie and Alpheus?"
"Just Catherine," he admitted begrudgingly. He was not fond of being teased.
Sigmund sighed. "I must admit, I do not understand that girl at all. I gave her multiple opportunities to join us and yet she always ignores them. She spends hours each day visiting Mariela but I suspect she also has my brother's ear. He never leaves their chamber anymore out of paranoia."
Charles couldn't help but think that Franz's paranoia was warranted. Sigmund had been trying to get poison into that pregnant princess's tea for months to no avail. At this rate he would have to wait until the child was born to act.
Personally he was against infanticide. He found it distasteful. The child had done nothing wrong. Sotis he was grateful not to be a mber of the royal family. Nobody tried to kill the son of a duke in order to inherit the dukedom.
This wouldn't even be an issue if Rosenia had done her duty as crown princess and borne Sigmund a son. She reaped all of the benefits of her title without doing much to earn it. Charles supposed she was helping back Sigmund through her brother, the king of Rowenhilde, but that wasn't enough.
Charles saw Rosenia about as often as her husband did. Which was almost entirely at royal affairs where any of the upper nobility could see her. Those were the only tis she even bothered to pretend to be part of a happy couple.
"Can you really not find any proof of where they sneak off to when they leave the palace?" Charles asked sowhat desperately.
He needed proof that Alpheus was committing treason. That was all it would take for Catherine to be his. Sigmund had already promised to manipulate things so she would not be executed and would be quietly sent to his side instead.
Sigmund frowned. "No. My people see them sneak out over a back wall and head into town but that is all. They vanish after a certain point. If I didn't know any better, I would say they are visiting commoners. When they co back there is always a certain amount of dirt and fur on them."
"Fur?" he asked incredulously. What could a princess be doing that involved fur of any sort?
"Cat fur, I believe. Isn't that barbaric? Those pests are not good for anything but killing rats out in the stables. But Katie's sweaters are always covered in it upon her return according to my spies."
How perplexing. Dirt and furare they spending ti in soone's stables? Their contact on the outside must be passing ssages sohow. Stables wouldn't be entirely out of the question if they were involved with a courier.
Charles voiced his thoughts and his friend gave off a sinister smile. He agreed with his analysis of the situation but had no proof. Accusing a prince of treason was treason in and of itself without concrete evidence.
He was of half a mind to go out and follow them personally the next ti they left the palace, even if it was unsightly for a man of his rank. If a prince could sneak out, so could he.
Over the years he had beco quite skilled at blending into the shadows. Most of the ti his steward didn't know he was right behind him until Charles spoke up. If he wore a cloak made with the kind of materials commoners used it would be possible. He would do anything to get Alpheus out of the way.
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