“And by the way,” she paused for a moment, eyebrows raised, taunting him, “we were both wrong. I don’t need a pretty, blue dress to get you to kiss me. Just some eye contact will do.” She pursed her lips together in the most adorable way and then ran off into the trees.
No. She frolicked into the trees—like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Trev sat there, stunned, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Then he knew.
That was her charm kicking in, and she had won.
3
Renna
A laugh escaped Renna’s lips as she made her way to her father’s grave. Her dad would have loved her interaction with the stranger. She had inherited her mischievousness from him. When he was alive, he used to prank absolute strangers, making big scenes. She’d loved that about him.
Renna approached the meadow, noticing the puffy, white dandelion heads scattered throughout the deep grass. She picked one up, holding it to her mouth as she blew the seeds into the air. A light breeze carried them into the middle of the small field where her father’s grave lay. The sun shone on his headstone, casting an angelic glow on the ground surrounding the grave. Preetis and Nellie had kept the wild grass from overtaking the monument, maintaining a clear path to and around it. Trees circled Renna, closing her in, keeping her safe from the bustle at the house down below. She was happy knowing her father was above Wellenbreck Farm, not far from their pond and everything he had loved.
“Hi, Dad,” Renna whispered, kneeling over the marble headstone to trace the letters of his name. KIMBALL DEGRAY. Only his body rested there. His soul was somewhere else—maybe with her always. At least that’s what she told herself, so she didn’t feel stupid when she carried on conversations with him.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long. You know I would come every day if I could.” Her voice was low.
She wiped away a stray tear trickling down her cheek, unsurprised to find it there. She was used to the ups and downs of her grief. One minute she’d be laughing, and the next she’d be curled up on the bathroom floor, praying the hurt and tears would subside. Today though, she was here with him.
“You would have loved the ride here,” she said cheerfully, laughing to herself as she swiped another tear off her cheek. “Actually, you would have hated it. Mom complained the whole time about how bumpy it was.”
She picked at a few blades of grass in front of her. “But you would have loved the government transporter we rode in. We covered more miles in an hour than we ever covered in a day with Canyon Ann pulling the wagon. I wish everybody was allowed to have one. It would change regular people’s lives.” She sighed. “But only fancy people get fancy things, and Mom’s fancy now.”
Renna’s smile faded. “I would give it all up, all the nice things, just to have you back.” She could feel the emotion creeping into her voice. “I miss you so much, Dad. It still doesn’t seem real—you gone, Mom marrying Bryant, moving to the Government Center. None of it feels like my life. I should be used to it after four years, but I’m not.”
She looked around at the trees and bushes lining the edges of the meadow. Everything seemed bigger; time had matured the trees just as it had her.
“I’m sorry Mom didn’t come say hi.” Renna let out a slow breath. “I suppose we both know why. It’s probably for the best, though. I went swimming in the pond, and we all know Mom hates that. I also pretended to drown and made some guy dive in and rescue me.” She chuckled, the man’s wide grin flashing in her mind.
Renna lay on her side, propping her head up with her hand. “It’s been rough at the Government Center. It seems like no matter what I do, I can’t please anybody, especially Mom.” Renna’s voice got quiet again. “I wish you were here. You would know what to say or do.”
The leaves clapped against each other in the breeze. Time slowed as Renna stared at her father’s headstone. She had longed for moments like this, moments where she could lay beside him and feel content. The sun broke through a cloud and touched her face, warming her soul, and suddenly her father was there with her.
Renna didn’t know how long she rested there with him, but too soon, it was time to go. She kissed the tips of her fingers, pressing them against his headstone. “Love you, Dad.”
She stood up and brushed off the clumps of grass and dirt that clung to her damp clothes and left the sanctuary of the meadow, promising to return again tomorrow.
The farmhouse came into view as Renna began her trek down the steep hill. Orange sun rays scattered across the skyline, colliding with miles of open fields. It was hard to imagine this land as anything other than farmland. She had been told by her father that it was once covered with roads, buildings, and homes. Growing up, she’d found pieces and artifacts of what used to exist there, before Desolation happened. There were even a few structural remains left, where concrete foundations jutted out of the ground, but grass and weeds covered them now as if the earth had simply adopted them as her own.
She ran toward the stone house, wishing she could stay at Wellenbreck Farm, but tomorrow they would continue to the kingdom of Albion. Outside the house, soldiers worked to set up tents. There wasn’t enough room inside for the entire caravan. Soldiers and maids needed to sleep outside.
Renna accidentally slammed the back door behind her, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit kitchen when she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone.
“Nice outfit,” Jenica sneered, making the other girls surrounding the kitchen table look up at her and snicker. Renna sighed. She still didn’t understand why Seran’s friends were part of the caravan to Albion, but apparently, Seran needed to have her support group with her at all times. So here they were.
At least they had ridden in a separate transporter. Renna wasn’t sure she could handle a week of travel confined in a small space with them. Airplanes would have made the journey so much faster, but those had been deemed unessential from the very first Council.
“Thanks.” Renna smiled at Jenica. “I found it in your closet.” She sauntered into the room and opened a few cupboards, looking for something to eat.
“I think everyone knows I would never be caught dead with a pair of pants in my closet. Especially colorless ones.”
Renna rolled her eyes. “You should try pants sometime. They’re comfortable.” Finding a bushel of grapes in one of the cupboards, she plopped a few into her mouth and leaned back against the kitchen counter to face the girls. Everything about them in Wellenbreck, in her kitchen, felt wrong.
Jenica’s light blue eyes glared back at her. “Why can’t you be civilized for once? Women don’t wear pants.”
“They wore pants before Desolation,” Sheridan chimed in. She was a bit of a know-it-all, always ready with information.
“That’s probably one of the reasons civilization got destroyed—ridiculous clothing choices.” Jenica’s attention went back to the small bottles of colorful liquid laid out between them. She leaned her head down over her hand, forming a pile of straight blonde hair on the table. Slowly she painted the red liquid over her fingernails.
“Where did you get that paint?” Renna asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
“It’s called nail polish,” Sheridan replied, not even looking up from painting Lizanne’s nails.
“My mom got it from the under-counter market,” Jenica bragged.
“So, it’s not essential?” Renna asked.
“Of course it’s essential!” Jenica sneered. “My hands need it. Besides,” she paused to blow on the wet polish covering her nails, “the next Council of Essentials is in January, and my father promised to lobby for nail polish. I’m sure it will be approved.”
Of course Jenica believed she had that kind of power over the Council of Essentials. Had she forgotten that during the rebuild two hundred years ago resources had been scarce? The seven leaders couldn’t just deem something like nail polish essential because their hands needed it. Renna had a hard time believing nail polish
would ever be deemed essential to survival, but lately, the Council seemed to approve luxuries for the ruling class that weren’t essential at all.
It was a strange sight—a group of women who had nothing better to do than paint their nails. Most girls their age had to work. That used to be Renna’s life. She had spent exhausting days beside her father in the fields. Now, as a member of the ruling class, she had nothing to do. Guilt spread through her like fire. She hated how unfair it was—how some people lived lives of luxury while others worked hard to survive. Something was wrong with the Council of Essentials, and nobody seemed to care.
Lizanne spoke up. She hardly ever spoke, so Renna liked her best, and she had the most amazing red hair that lit up against her pale skin. “I can’t believe you grew up here. It’s in the middle of nowhere.”
“I like the seclusion,” Renna replied. “It’s peaceful. But really it’s not that isolated. Vassel is only thirty miles north of here.”
Jenica looked around at the house. “This explains a lot about why you act the way you do. You don’t know any better.” She was a master at making her words sound kind while insulting a person at the same time.
Renna pushed away from the counter. She’d had enough girl talk for one afternoon. “Where are Seran and my mother?”
Sheridan pointed upstairs. “Seran is napping, and your mother is in the front room, I believe.”
Renna headed toward the narrow stairs at the back of the kitchen. Better to change before her mother saw her in pants.
On her way up, she almost bumped into a plump body coming out of the bathroom.
“Nellie!” Renna grabbed the woman into a tight hug. Nellie’s head landed just below her chin. There had been a time when the two of them had been the same height, but that was when Renna was thirteen. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Nellie pulled back, looking around. “Shhhh, child. There is royalty sleeping in this house.”
Renna grimaced, as she followed Nellie into her old room and shut the door behind them, surveying the room. It seemed smaller than she remembered, especially the bed. Besides the size, the most significant difference was how colorless everything was—the curtains, bedding, and walls—they were all muted in grays and creams, a stark contrast to the colorful world at the Government Center.
Nellie spun around to look at Renna and put her hands on her hips. “Child, I have been waiting all afternoon to see how fancy you’ve become in the last four years in your colored clothing, and look at you. You’re dressed like Preetis!”
Renna smiled. “I may have borrowed your husband’s clothes to go swimming.”
Nellie let a laugh escape as she shook her head. Her brown hair was slicked into a bun, a cream apron pulled tight around her chest. She looked exactly like Renna remembered.
“Stealing Preetis’s clothes and sneaking off.” Nellie laughed. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost all your spunk.”
“I may live at the New Hope Government Center, but I’m still Kimball Degray’s daughter,” she said with a sly smile, sitting down on the bed. “Where’s Preetis anyway?”
“Oh, you know Preetis.” Nellie sat beside her, the weight of her body sinking the mattress and sending Renna up like a teeter-totter. “He’s always about some task. Now let me look at you, child.” Nellie’s eyes scanned over Renna. “You look so beautiful. Your father would be so proud.” She placed her hand on Renna’s cheek. “I see him in your eyes and your smile. You went to see him, didn’t you?”
Renna nodded. She didn’t dare speak, or else her emotion would escape, spilling out like water from a broken dam.
“Good.” She sniffed and looked away but not before Renna saw tears brimming in her eyes. “Now that’s enough of that.” Nellie stood up like she was too busy to sit still another moment. “I would unpack your things, but you have some fancy maid to do that for you now.”
“Nora? You’d like her. She’s very chatty.”
“I don’t have time for chitchat. I’ve got a princess to feed and must make sure she’s comfortable. Not to mention all my regular tasks.” Nellie shook her head as she spoke. “And don’t even get me started on the hoity-toity, good-for-nothing girls taking over my kitchen downstairs.”
Renna laughed.
Nellie’s eyes turned serious. “Have they been good to you, child?”
“The girls downstairs? Not a bit.”
“Not just the girls, but everyone. Are you happy there?”
Renna forced a smile. “It’s been okay. I wouldn’t say I fit in. But most days, I’m happy.”
“And your mom . . . is she happy?” It was a delicate question that required a delicate answer.
“She’s doing better than I’ve ever seen her do.” There was a sadness in Renna’s voice that she couldn’t hide—a longing for her childhood.
“It’s all that expensive stuff. That’d make any of us happier.” Nellie smoothed her apron. “Well, I best be getting back to work before your mother notices dinner isn’t ready.”
“I’ll come help after I change.”
Nellie smiled back at her, reaching for the doorknob.
“Hey, Nellie?”
“Yes, child?” She turned back to Renna.
“I ran into a man at the pond today. He looked only a little older than me. He had dark curly hair and . . .” A handsome face, easy smile, vibrant blue eyes. “He was on a PT. Is he local?”
“Not that I reckon. Nobody around here is allowed to have a PT,” Nellie answered before shuffling out the door.
Nellie was right, of course. Only someone working in a government position had access to a PT. Ordinary people didn’t have clearance to drive machines like that. Renna remembered seeing the man’s weapons belt tossed at the pond’s edge with the rest of his things. A soldier, then, most likely. Not from New Hope, though—she would have remembered seeing a man that attractive walking the halls of the Government Center. She wouldn’t have forgotten a face like his.
4
Trev
Daylight faded, shining its last light on the cement buildings of Vassel. The small New Hope city was the only town for miles with an inn. One dirt road split a row of cream plastered shops. Trev parked his PT for the night and gathered his things from inside the bike’s seat compartment. Lights emanated from the inn’s windows, the glow inviting him in. Sounds of laughter and casual talk grew as he approached and swung the door open.
The front room was lined with brown tables and booths where several guests ate dinner. Trev’s stomach growled with hunger as a wave of delicious smells overtook him; the scent of fresh bread was the strongest. Drake sat alone at a booth in the corner, his tall body towering inches above the other guests, though he was seated, and his broad shoulders almost spanning the width of the bench. A plate of meat had already been brought out to him.
“You couldn’t wait to eat until I arrived?” Trev threw his bag down on the opposite bench before sitting.
“Well, I didn’t know when you were going to appear again since you snuck off this afternoon,” Drake said coolly, hardly greeting him with a glance. His shaggy brown hair fell over his forehead, and he whipped his head to the side to shake it away from his brown eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry. I visited that pond we found by the border.” Trev leaned forward to survey the array of chicken and pork on Drake’s platter before selecting a chunk.
Drake finally looked up at him, exasperation on his face. “Trev, I am the head of your security. How can I protect you if I don’t even know where you are?”
“Protect me from what?” Trev looked around as he tore the piece of chicken between his fingers, the smaller bite ending up in his mouth. “Vassel is small, remote, and friendly to Albion.”
“It’s my job to assess threats to your safety.”
“And what’s the risk level here in Vassel?”
Drake was stone-faced until a small smile cracked the surface. “Extremely low.”
Trev grinned, poppin
g another piece of chicken into his mouth.
Drake softened. “Next time, just tell me where you’re going, okay? The king will have my head if anything happens to you on my watch.”
Trev nodded, knowing his friend was right. He should have told him where he was.
“Did you enjoy your swim?” Drake asked sardonically.
The girl’s face flickered through Trev’s mind. “It was interesting.”
Who was this Mangum guy? Trev decided he didn’t like him, whoever he was.
“I met a girl,” Trev said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
Drake paused mid-bite. “And?”
“And, I don’t know.” Trev shrugged. “She was really fun.”
Drake was silent for a moment. “May I remind you that we’re meeting your fiancée in two days?”
“I know that,” Trev said with a touch of irritation.
“Then you’re also aware that it’s in poor taste to flirt with some New Hope country girl.”
“I never said we flirted.”
Drake leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “It was implied.”
Trev rolled his eyes, hating the fact that Drake knew him so well.
“You haven’t noticed a girl in years,” Drake continued. “As your friend, I’m happy for you. But as your head of security, it’s my responsibility to tell you—”
“Drake,” Trev interrupted. “I know my duty. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
Drake’s stare was heavy. “You’re lucky you didn’t see the New Hope caravan when you were at the pond. The innkeeper said they’re staying at the farmhouse down in the valley.”
Trev took a breath. He hadn’t realized the New Hope royalty was so close. But of course they were. They were expected at the ruler’s palace in a few days. “I didn’t see anyone but the girl.”
Drake kept going. “And it’s a good thing since you were with a woman other than your fiancée.”
The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance Page 3