The buzz of a personal transporter scattered Renna’s thoughts away. She groaned, lifting her head. It had to be Mangum, her mother’s guard, coming to take her back to Wellenbreck Farm. Was she missed already? She slapped the water in front of her.
I just got here.
Couldn’t her mother give her one afternoon? It had been four years since Renna had been there. Four years since she had left her comfortable home at Wellenbreck Farm for a fast-paced life at the New Hope Government Center. Four years since her mother had married the king of New Hope.
The PT’s hum grew louder, echoing off the thick trees. Renna had seconds before Mangum would arrive. She couldn’t really blame him. He was following the queen’s orders.
She blew out a breath in frustration and began swimming toward the dock when a sudden idea made her stop. If she was going to be dragged back to her mother, she might as well do it in style.
Renna grinned. She flipped onto her stomach, waiting until the PT’s sound was upon her, and then immersed her head underwater. She floated, careful not to move a muscle. She didn’t know how long it would take for Mangum to find her, but for the sake of a joke, she was willing to hold her breath as long as she could. After all, when faking her death by drowning, appearance was everything.
Poor Mangum. He’ll probably have a heart attack when he finds me.
2
Trev
Trev slowed his machine to a stop, his muscles relieved to have a break from driving. He had started the day in Dacoma. His father didn’t see any use in visiting the small, far-away cities in the outskirts of Albion borders. But Trev wanted to show every citizen that he cared for them. If Trev had to be forced onto a campaign tour, he would do it his own way. The tour was supposed to help him in the King Ruler election at the end of the year, but it was more than that to Trev. He wanted to get to know the people—their needs and struggles. How could he lead them, be their king, if he didn’t know them?
Trev kicked out the stand at the bottom of his PT, letting the weight of the motorized bike rest against it. He pulled his helmet off, hanging it on the machine’s handlebars. His body ached everywhere from straddling the leather seat for so many miles. Even his fingers hurt from grasping the handlebars and pushing the lever forward with his thumb.
He turned to the water, hoping its coolness would soothe his tired muscles. Soft ripples rolled lazily along, begging him to dive through their perfection. His eyes followed the hypnotizing movement until he noticed something gray bobbing in the water a few yards away. Squinting against the warm sunlight, he stepped to the pond’s edge for a closer look.
Was that a body?
Alarm took over.
He sprang into action, removing his boots and weapons belt. With one swift motion, he dove into the water, the sting of cold pricking his skin. His focus was on getting to the lifeless body’s side, and in three strokes, he was there. He pushed the body over, recognizing the curves of a young woman. Massive amounts of wet hair covered her face, tangling between his fingers.
Heart pounding, Trev wrapped his arm under her shoulder and dragged her limp body to the dock’s ladder. It was a bit awkward, but he managed to hoist her up and spread her out on the decaying wood. Had he found her too late? He leaned over, checking her neck for a pulse.
That’s when the dead girl gave him a heart attack.
“Save me, Mangum!” she shouted, jerking dramatically.
The sudden burst of life from the drowning victim startled Trev, causing him to jump back, but there was nowhere for him to go. He was going to fall, and there was nothing he could do about it. Everything seemed to be in slow motion—arms and legs flailing in the air as he dropped back. For a split second, his eyes locked with the woman, who looked as surprised as he felt. Then his back slapped against the water, and he fell under.
He emerged with an alarming amount of spits and coughs.
“You’re not Mangum,” the girl gasped, leaning over the dock’s edge, eyes wide. She reached her hand out to help pull him up.
“And you’re not dead,” he grumbled, purposefully avoiding her proffered hand. He swam to the ladder instead.
“No.” She winced. “I’m not dead.” She watched him struggle, her expression confessing her guilt. “I . . . was faking it.”
“I can see that.” He climbed up the ladder and collapsed on the dock, hands resting limply on his heaving chest as he stared at the blue sky above him.
She was quiet for a moment until, suddenly, her body shook with an inexplicable spasm. Trev sat up, his brows folding together in confusion. Then she spasmed again and again until she obviously couldn’t keep it in, and she doubled over.
“Are you laughing?”
His question only made it worse. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to hold it in, but the laughter continued to roar out of her. Her face dropped into her hands as she shook her head back and forth. She tried deep breaths, but then she peeked at Trev through her fingers and came completely undone.
He was irritated at first, but the longer Trev watched her shaking form, the harder it became to stay mad. Despite his best efforts, laughter escaped his lips too. It was strange, the two of them sitting in a puddle on the dock, laughing like children. Trev couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard.
It felt good.
Trev gasped through a laugh, “Why . . . why would you fake drowning?”
“It was meant to be a joke,” she defended.
“For this Mangum person?” Trev cringed. “I feel sorry for the guy.”
Sucking in, she slowed the momentum of her giggles. “You’re right. It’s not funny,” she said. “I’m sorry . . . for it all.”
Trev was curious. He scooted his body so he could sit on the edge of the dock, swinging his legs over the side. “So who’s this Mangum guy, and why did you get us confused?”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting anyone else.” She rolled over to the edge copying the way he sat. “I’ve been coming to this pond my whole life, and I’ve never seen a single person here. How did you find this place?”
“My friend and I stumbled upon it a year or two ago. I haven’t been back since, but I needed a break today.” He kicked his legs back and forth over the water. “Do you live around here?”
She hesitated.
“What?” He pulled his head back. “It’s not like I’m going to come knocking on your door.”
“I grew up not far from here,” she hedged, her gaze falling to the water below. “What about you?”
“I come and go as I please,” he said mischievously.
She raised her eyebrows, likely curious about his vague answer, so he opted for changing the subject. “What’s your name?”
“Why? Do you keep a record of all the girls you save?”
“Only the pretty ones,” he joked, thinking he would add her name if such a list existed. She was pretty. Water dripped down from the top of her forehead and the ends of her blonde hair, making tiny splashes all around her on the dock and prompting Trev to push his hands through his own dripping hair. Her wet clothes accentuated the curves of her body and Trev looked away. She must have noticed his sudden avoidance because she self-consciously pulled at her gray shirt so the damp fabric didn’t cling to her chest.
He tried again. “Are you going to tell me your name? If I did have a list, I’d want you on it.”
“You’re a complete stranger,” she deflected, bestowing a small smile.
Trev raised his hands. “All right, fine. Then I won’t tell you my name either, and we’ll be strangers forever.” He looked her over again. “But at least answer me this. Do you always wear boys’ clothes?” he asked, nodding toward her gray pants.
She laughed. “Have you ever tried swimming in a dress? It doesn’t work very well.”
“This may surprise you, but I’ve never gone swimming in a dress,” he said, his tone serious.
“Then you have no room to judge.” She smirked.
; Trev smiled, wondering why this girl was so easy to talk to.
“You know,” he leaned back against his hands, “there are better ways than pretending to drown to get a man’s attention. I can talk to Mangum for you. Let him know you’re interested.”
“What?”
“Mangum.” Trev reminded her. “You know, get his attention for you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want Mangum’s attention.”
She deserved payback for the fake drowning. “So then you wanted mine?” Trev grinned as her jaw dropped in surprise.
He probably shouldn’t be flirting with a random country girl. He was engaged, after all. But this was more talking than flirting. Surely there was no harm in that.
“I did not do this to get your attention,” she objected. “I already told you I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”
“It’s fine. You can admit it.” He gave her a sly smile.
“First of all, I don’t know you. Second, even if I did know you, and I was purposely trying to get your attention, I would have done it so much better.”
“Is there a better way to pretend to drown?” He smiled, unable to hide his amusement.
“Well, if I had been trying to be appealing I would have worn a dress, not a man’s oversized shirt—”
“I agree. It’s painful to look at you.” That wasn’t true. She was very attractive.
“And not just any dress,” she continued, pointedly ignoring his comment. “I would have done some investigating and found out what your favorite color was—”
“Blue,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“My favorite color is blue.” Then he gestured for her to continue.
She rolled her eyes, but Trev saw her smile. “All right, I would have worn a blue dress—”
“A colored dress? That’s expensive. You’d do that for me?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I would have worn a blue dress”—her eyes warned him not to interrupt—“that hugged my body, leaving little to the imagination.”
Trev didn’t feel the need to add anything. He liked what he heard.
“Then I wouldn’t have floated there lifeless.” She threw her arms in the air, making waves with her hands. Trev leaned away to avoid being hit. “I would have splashed around, wailing and crying, to make sure that you stopped and rescued me.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “Then you would have heard my cries for help and dove into the water—”
“Like I did today?” he deadpanned.
“Yes. Apparently, you have some redeeming qualities.” She took a breath before jumping back into her reverie. “Once I was safe on shore, I would have looked up at you, held your gaze, and waited.” She paused and turned her head to look at him.
“Waited for what?” he asked, amused and absorbed by her story.
“For you to kiss me, of course,” she said matter-of-factly like it was the only obvious outcome.
“You kiss people you don’t even know? Right after you’ve met?”
“No!” She shook her head with an edge of annoyance. “It’s just a pretend scenario. We already know each other in the story. That’s why we kiss. Why would I want your attention if we don’t already know each other?”
Trev raised the corner of his mouth into a slight smile. “Because I’m so good looking?”
She turned and looked him over, pretending to consider. “No,” she decided, her expression impassive. “You’re not that good looking.”
Ouch. Trev’s ego was wounded, but her answer came too quickly for him to really believe she didn’t find him somewhat attractive.
“Well, I’m afraid it would take more than a pretty, colored dress and some eye contact to get me to kiss you.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You’d have to be interesting and confident too.”
“Which I am,” she added.
“No, I don’t think so,” he maintained. “You’re clingy and desperate for my affection. That’s why you pretended to drown.”
She frowned and Trev knew a brief moment of victor. It was her turn to have her ego wounded.
“No, that’s not it at all,” she said again, this time with more passion. “Perhaps I’m poor . . . maybe even your servant, and I have to pretend to drown because you are too arrogant to see the love right in front of you.”
“No.” He kept his tone even. “You’re deranged and controlling. I’ve been kind to you, and you’ve taken that kindness as something more. You devised this drowning scheme as a way to—”
“This is my pretend story. You have no say in it,” she snapped playfully, cutting him off.
“Okay, then how does it end?” He sighed, surrendering control of the plot. “After you gaze up at me, what happens?”
She peered over the pond, caught up in her fairytale. “You look into my eyes, and you finally see me, not as your poor servant girl, but as the woman you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.” A smile grew across her lips. “You kiss me, and then we live happily ever after.”
If the fake drowning hadn’t convinced him the girl was crazy, this did. “Happily ever after is an ancient concept.”
“What do you mean?” she asked defensively.
“You know. Love. That one-and-only person you’re supposed to spend your life with. Happy endings. All that. It doesn’t exist.” He rolled his eyes just thinking of it.
“Of course it does.” She sounded astonished, as if his objections were absurd.
Something twisted inside him, but his voice remained impartial. “There’s nothing in my life that proves true love exists.”
She looked away for a moment, and Trev internally kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to get personal with her. He didn’t usually get personal with anyone, besides his friend, Drake. Now her silence was starting to make him uncomfortable.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she said finally. “There isn’t much in my life either to prove that love and happy endings exist.” Her voice was quieter as she spoke, and her eyes no longer held the twinkle that had been there moments ago. Trev shifted, feeling remorseful. It was like he had popped her make-believe love bubble.
“I can tell you more about what isn’t love than what is,” she continued. “But I know what kind of love I want in my future, and it’s not the kind I’ve witnessed.”
“What if you never find the love you’re looking for?”
“I’ll create it,” she replied with certainty.
Trev grinned, bemused by her funny ideas about love. He’d never heard anyone talk about love like that. In fact, hardly anyone in his life talked about love at all. In his circle, there was no such thing as love—only negotiations.
He cleared his throat, not liking the serious direction of their conversation and the earnest way she looked at him, like she expected him to respond with his own views on love. She wasn’t going to get that from him today.
He didn’t know what else to say, so he did what his royal advisors told him to do in unknown situations—he flashed a brilliant smile. They told him smiling made him look confident. Smiling won the people over. It was all part of Trev’s charm. It usually came naturally, and he relied on it in situations like these. Sometimes he didn’t even know he was doing it. Today though, he knew. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wanted the unusual woman to like him.
His flashy smile appeared to surprise her, and she looked at him in obvious confusion, until a huge smile of her own spread across her mouth. He was winning her over.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He answered without moving his lips. “I’m smiling.”
She laughed. “But why is it so creepy?”
“I didn’t know it was.” Then they both burst into laughter.
She leaned in closer, touching her shoulder to his playfully. “Thank you for saving me.”
She was teasing, but the warmth in her smile was sincere. Strangely, it made his heart lurch.
“You’re welcome.” His voice came o
ut raspier than he intended, but her sudden nearness caught him off-guard. It had been a long time since he’d used his charms on a woman. They worked better than he remembered.
When Trev had first pulled her out of the water, he’d noticed her beauty but only in passing. Now, conversing with her, he was wholly captivated. Golden waves of wet hair tumbled around her shoulders down to her chest, framing her expressive green eyes—eyes that told an animated story every time she spoke. Her skin glowed with the tint of a summer tan that complemented her pink lips. And her smile—it was the biggest prize of all, making him somehow feel a surge of happiness every time she bestowed it on him. His attraction to her seemed to grow exponentially, with an intensity he couldn’t deny.
“You know, I should probably give you a reward for saving me.”
Was she batting her eyes at him? He couldn’t account for this flirtatious change in her behavior. All he knew was that her face and, more importantly, her lips were getting closer to his. It was weird. He didn’t even know her name, and here she was, acting like she was going to kiss him.
This was moving fast.
She was moving fast.
He parted his lips in anticipation. She paused, her green eyes holding his gaze. He didn’t dare look away, or he might miss her next move.
Or was it supposed to be his move?
In her pretend story, she held her rescuer’s gaze and waited. He was supposed to kiss her. That’s what she wanted, right?
But could he do it? In a way, it was wrong. What about the princess of New Hope?
I haven’t even met her yet.
This would be his last kiss with another woman. The last kiss he chose for himself. Maybe he owed it to himself to have one last kiss.
He closed his eyes and leaned in, ready to give her what she wanted, when suddenly her satisfied voice snapped him back to reality.
“Thanks for the help, stranger.” Her smile radiated with playfulness as she spoke. She tousled his hair like he was a schoolboy and hopped to her feet. He didn’t realize that he’d been holding his breath until the air escaped his chest in a mixture of relief and disappointment.
The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance Page 2