The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance

by Kortney Keisel

  “Her Royal Highness, Princess Seran Alyssa Haslett of New Hope.”

  Renna glanced in Seran’s direction, a bit in awe as she curtseyed smoothly. How was she so good at that?

  Renna hated this next part—the part where she was introduced like an afterthought.

  “And Miss Renna Degray.”

  She did her best to curtsey the way Seran had, but she doubted it looked even close to the same.

  King Carver stepped forward and took her mother’s hand. “Queen Mariele, welcome to Albion. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Carver Trevenna, King of Albion. I hope your travels weren’t too tiresome.”

  “Not at all. Thank you,” Renna’s mother said with perfect grace. “King Bryant sends his regards. He wasn’t able to come with us at this time, as he had to attend to some pressing business back home. He’ll arrive in a couple of weeks for the wedding.”

  Renna couldn’t help but smile. From this interaction, no one would ever guess that her mother spent most of Renna’s childhood locked in her room, depressed. Today, she stood as regally as any woman ever had. Pride surged inside Renna. Her mother had come so far.

  King Carver nodded. “May I present my son.” The king turned to his left and gestured behind him, where a man with curly, dark hair stepped forward, his head down, and his eyes focused on the ground. As he raised his head, their gazes locked for a brief moment.

  A jolt of shock shot through Renna.

  Trev.

  The king’s next words took her breath away. “Ezra Trevenna, Prince of Albion.”

  The color drained from Renna’s face. She had been so focused on finding Trev in the line of soldiers that she hadn’t seen him standing at the king’s side.

  Until now.

  Ezra Trevenna. Trev.

  It was clearly a mistake. It had to be. But no one protested that the wrong man had been named. To everyone else, nothing was amiss.

  Trev wasn’t dressed in black pants and a plain white shirt like most soldiers wore—like he had worn with her. No, now he was dressed for the part of a prince in a pair of perfectly tailored dark blue slacks, a brown leather belt, a light blue dress shirt with navy pinstripes, and a solid yellow tie. Colored clothes or not, he looked good.

  Renna watched in disbelief as Trev stepped forward and kissed her mother’s hand. “Your Majesty. It’s a pleasure to be in your company. Our kingdom has never beheld such beauty.”

  Her mother inclined her head and smiled, eating up every last word of his cheesy line.

  He stepped toward Seran, and the reality of what was happening finally started to sink in.

  Trev is the prince of Albion. Trev is Seran’s Prince Ezra. Seran is marrying Trev.

  He must have said something charming because Seran’s ringing laugh brought Renna back to reality. “You’re charming and good looking?” Renna heard Seran say. “That’s a dangerous combination, Your Highness.”

  “I’m afraid my charm gets me in trouble often.” His eyes darted to Renna as Seran laughed.

  Renna’s chest constricted, a muddle of emotions threatening to take over. Confusion. Hurt. Anger. Embarrassment. Her mind couldn’t even keep up with the storm swirling inside her. Why hadn’t he told her?

  “Well, I hope not too much trouble.” Seran’s shoulder dipped closer to Trev as she spoke. “At least now that I’ve arrived.”

  “Now that you’ve arrived, everything will change. I can assure you of that.” He glanced at Renna again.

  His words were like a slap across Renna’s face.

  He moved in front of her. She did her best to mask everything, her face turning to stone.

  He greeted her in almost a whisper. “Miss Degray.”

  She wondered if she could knee him in the groin but decided against it, knowing she’d probably be arrested.

  He took her hand and kissed it, just as he had with her mother and Seran, but now his touch enraged her. He was the prince, and he never told her.

  Everything between them had been fake.

  Renna stood frozen in anger, unable to even pull off a decent curtsey. Trev didn’t seem to notice, quickly turning away and resuming his position at his father’s side.

  That’s it? He didn’t have anything else to say to her?

  Where was the ‘I’m sorry that I never told you I was the prince of Albion’? Or, ‘sorry for almost kissing you and making you fall in love with me when I am practically married to your stepsister’? Not that Renna expected him to say all those things in front of his fiancée. But his eyes could have conveyed something.

  Anything.

  The king exchanged pleasantries with her mother and Seran for a moment longer, something about getting settled before the dinner celebration, but Renna hardly listened. She was still trying to get a handle on her shock. The onlookers in the courtyard began to disperse as the king walked away.

  Trev glanced in her direction before he turned to follow. Her hurt eyes met his. For the first time, they saw each other for who they really were: Trev, the prince, and Renna, the country girl playing the part of a lady. She thought he might say something—she hoped he might—but instead, he turned and left.

  Renna’s heart went numb.

  The head maid of the ruler’s palace appeared at the queen’s side to escort them in. Renna followed behind, her shock preventing her from keeping up with the group. They passed through the doors under the arching entryway into a large hall, with light blue walls and a tall, coffered ceiling. In front of them, a large staircase with light green, diamond-patterned carpet curved upward.

  The maid took them to their rooms, giving directions and explanations all along the way. Renna hoped that none of it was too important because she couldn’t focus on a single word.

  They were assigned their own rooms, each spacious and finely decorated with large windows and a balcony facing the mountains. The color schemes were colorful and bright. Renna’s room had a vanity and mirror against the wall by the door to the bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, a large bed covered in a maroon comforter dominated the space, flanked by a single nightstand and lamp.

  Once left alone, Renna sank onto the bed, tears already forming in her eyes.

  How could this have happened? Losing her father, the one person she loved and idolized more than anyone in the world had nearly destroyed her. Then to be taken from Wellenbreck—her home—to the Government Center so soon afterward, to live among people who hardly cared that she existed, to spend the next four years of her life living as a shadow of herself, letting her mother down when she couldn’t live up to her expectations, never sure where she belonged . . . it was too much.

  With all the changes she had experienced in the past four years, her stolen moments with Trev had been some of her best moments. He had made her hope again, made her feel optimistic, made her believe that perhaps there was a happy future for her somewhere. Now that was taken from her too. It was more than she could stand.

  She had a lot of practice not letting loss get the best of her. Things were never as bad as they felt. But the pain she felt over losing Trev—even just the possibility of Trev—drove through her so powerfully that she couldn’t keep it at bay. It was a pain born from all the things she’d lost, and it threatened to carry her away now. She decided to let it.

  Cradling the soft pillow below her face, she decided she would give herself one moment of sadness, one moment to surrender to her shock, her anger, her embarrassment, and her broken heart. Wet tears spilled onto the pillowcase. She had been a stupid girl thinking that she was on the verge of her own fairytale.

  She wasn’t a princess, and she wasn’t the one Trev was going to marry.

  11

  Trev

  Drake called after him, but Trev didn’t let up his pace. His anger and frustration drove him, and he was desperate to release it somehow. He made his way to the training grounds at the side of the palace where the king’s soldiers trained. Loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves, he strode into the
dirt arena where several soldiers already sparred.

  “Is there a soldier willing to fight me?” he shouted above the practicing men’s grunts.

  Some broke off mid-spar at the prince’s arrival, bowing respectfully. A few young men stepped forward, eager to show off in front of the prince.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Drake gasped as he burst into the arena. “Forgive me, but you’re in no mood to fight with a young soldier. You might kill one of them.” He stepped in front of Trev, putting both hands on his chest to stop him.

  “Drake, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my way.”

  “You’re being irrational.”

  Trev blew out a harsh breath. “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

  “Still, don’t take your anger out on one of these boys.”

  “Are you volunteering?”

  Drake shook his head. “If I have to.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Sighing, Drake removed his gray vest and weapons belt, then took his place across from Trev in the dirt. A small crowd of soldiers gathered around to watch, forming a wide circle around them.

  Immediately, Trev swung his right arm toward Drake’s face. Drake quickly stepped to the side, leaning away from the punch.

  “Are we boxing?” Drake said as he shuffled away.

  “You’re the one who volunteered.” Trev spun, dust flying in the air, then sent a blow to Drake’s ribs. Drake grabbed his side for a moment but didn’t swing back.

  “Fight me!” Trev yelled. He took two steps forward, throwing his arms in a sequence of jabs.

  Drake ducked out of the way, calmly adding between breaths, “What do you think we are doing?”

  “Fight me! That’s an order!”

  Drake lunged for his waist, his arms wrapping around Trev’s body as they both toppled to the ground. Drake grunted as he used the weight of his body to pin Trev and lowered his voice so only the two could hear. “I know you’re frustrated about Renna, but I’m not going to fight you.”

  Trev pushed Drake off of him roughly and sat up, breathing hard. How did everything with Renna get so messed up? He shook his head, trying to figure it out.

  Seeing that Trev appeared less likely to hit him now, Drake looked up at the crowd of onlooking soldiers. “As you were, gentlemen. Back to your drills.”

  The men dispersed, but not without casting a few curious looks over their shoulders.

  Trev combed his hand through his hair. “She’s not the princess.”

  Drake nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re going to forget about Renna and give all your attention to Princess Seran.”

  Trev looked away. He didn’t like that solution.

  “You’re going to do this because you love Albion and because you’re going to be the next king.”

  He sighed. Drake knew him well. Since he was a young boy, he had been motivated to become the next king of Albion. There was so much good he could do for his kingdom, for his people. He would be a good ruler—at least better than his father.

  But up until a few days ago, he had always pictured himself ruling alone. His betrothed princess from New Hope had seemed almost imaginary. But then Renna came into his life, and he started to imagine a different future, one where his queen would rule by his side.

  Partners.

  To find out now that he had imagined the wrong girl was a blow.

  “I gave in to her, Drake,” he said quietly, avoiding his friend’s eyes. “I let myself . . . feel for her. I thought she was going to be my . . .” Trev didn’t allow himself to finish. What was the point? He had been wrong.

  “You’re going to make the best of it, Trev. Besides,” Drake rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a light shove, “there are worse fates than yours. Princess Seran is . . . stunning. A ten out of ten.”

  He was right. Seran was gorgeous, polished, and confident. But none of that seemed to matter right now. She wasn’t Renna.

  Where was Renna now? What was she doing? Was she as upset about their situation as he was?

  He needed to forget about Renna and move forward with Seran. But no matter how hard he tried, his head couldn’t convince his heart to let her go.

  12

  Renna

  Renna awoke to her maid’s gentle voice. “M’lady?”

  Her tears had eventually given way to a deep nap, but as consciousness returned, the ache inside her throbbed to life again. Sleep hadn’t smothered it away for good.

  She had been careless with her heart. It wouldn’t happen again.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” Nora tried again, “but it’s time to get you ready for the welcome feast.”

  A feast? Renna cracked an eye open. Now that was something she could get excited about. She hadn’t had a decent meal since she’d left Wellenbreck Farm, and her stomach ached for the finer food dinner would offer.

  She rolled over, sitting up at the edge of her bed. She watched as Nora shuffled around the room. Her tiny little body rushed back and forth, gathering from Renna’s bags the things she needed to do Renna’s hair and makeup.

  “You must be tired, miss! All that traveling really takes it out of you.”

  Renna forced a smile as she climbed out of bed and walked to the vanity.

  “Being here is so exciting! A new palace. New dresses. And isn’t Prince Ezra handsome? I never thought the princess would find someone as attractive as she was, but I was wrong.”

  Renna frowned as she sat down at the vanity. Nora had always been a chatty maid. They were about the same age, so usually her collected gossip was entertaining. Not today, though.

  “He’s okay. If you like arrogance.”

  “Okay? You must have had dust in your eyes because he is better than okay.” Nora fussed with Renna’s hair. “He looks so strong. Can you imagine what is hidden under his shirt?”

  Renna could imagine.

  “And then those curls! Don’t you just want to run your fingers through them?”

  She did, actually.

  “I bet they’re soft. Not full of hair products.”

  Renna grunted noncommittally. It was like she was inside Nora’s personal fantasy with the prince.

  “And his blue eyes! I mean, bright blue eyes are so cliché, but the prince pulls it off, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” Renna tried to sound uninterested.

  Nora continued to ramble, and Renna listened politely as she talked about what a perfect match Seran and Ezra were and how beautiful their children would be. Renna might’ve tried to escape her incessant chatter earlier, but Nora had a firm grip on her hair as she twisted it into fine weaves. Besides, Renna wanted to look her best for dinner.

  She convinced herself that her desire to look nice was purely for herself, not Trev. But if she was honest, she couldn’t deny wanting to look beautiful to show Trev what he was missing.

  She quickly chided herself, shaking her head to chase the thought away while Nora fussed at her to keep still. Renna was stupid to think that Trev would even notice her with Seran in the room. She had enjoyed his focus for a few days, but all that would change now.

  But then, why had Renna had his focus at all?

  He was engaged the whole time back at Wellenbreck. She even asked him if he had a girlfriend, and he had lied about it. Her lips pursed together in anger. Was she just an easy target? Someone he could flirt with and kiss and never see again? Well, now she was stuck here with him.

  “All done, miss,” Nora declared after a few minutes, stepping back to admire her work. “You look lovely, if I say so myself.”

  Renna looked in the mirror and had to agree. Despite her stern face, she looked good. Strands of hair wove in and out of each other in a braided pattern around the crown of her head, accentuating the different shades of gold throughout. It was some of Nora’s best work.

  Nora held up a green fitted evening gown with long sleeves. Th
e silk fabric nipped at the waist then hung straight to the floor. She helped Renna step inside and fastened the back. Nora added a gold necklace to adorn her collar, complimenting the square, lace neckline.

  Renna stepped in front of the vanity mirror and gave a low whistle. “Nora, I don’t know how you did it, but now I look like I actually belong here.”

  “Of course you belong here, miss! Now go and find yourself a prince of your own.”

  Renna had already found a prince. A lying, backstabbing one that she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  13

  Trev

  Trev hid behind a stone pillar down the hall from Renna’s room, feeling absolutely ridiculous. How had it come to this? To skulking about in the dark corners of his own palace? But he had to see her. He had to explain the mix-up.

  Her door opened, and a tiny maid hurried out with a pile of laundry. Renna followed soon after, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

  Trev had to catch his breath. She looked like a completely different person from the girl he’d met at Wellenbreck Pond. He thought about the many different versions of her he had seen—the witty comedian, the nervous Renna, the unpolished lady, the angry girl—but standing before him now was a dignified beauty. The fabric of her dress curved over her body in ways that he would never forget; the memory would likely drive him crazy all night. Her hair was pulled up, revealing the striking base of her neck and shoulders. But the worst part was how the green dress set off her eyes perfectly.

  He swallowed a frustrated groan.

  She headed down the hall in his direction. As she passed his hiding place, Trev grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows behind the pillar where they wouldn’t be seen. She almost screamed, but the alarm in her eyes softened when she recognized his face.

  And then her eyes iced over.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was loud and stern.