“I don’t think Seran would say visiting nearby estates for the past two days was fun,” Lizanne said.
“But Prince Ezra accompanied her; I’m sure something fun happened. If you know what I mean.” A guard opened the door and reached for Jenica’s hand.
Patiently, Renna waited for her turn to exit the transporter so she could get a look at Albana’s market day. Dying grass crunched below her shoes as she stepped out of the vehicle. Tables and stands were set up in rows with products skillfully displayed, enticing prospective customers over. Market peddlers lined the edges, their pushcarts full of goods and supplies. The sounds of buyers haggling over prices filled the square, adding to Renna’s eagerness.
As a young girl, she’d loved going to market day in Vassel with her father. She would help him set up their booth and attractively align their crops so customers could see what they offered.
Today’s market day was different. Renna had arrived in a transporter with the royal entourage, flanked by palace guards. There were no goods to sell or trade, no bottom line that her father had to earn to keep their household running through the winter. Instead, Renna would spend a few hours shopping at the market—just for the fun of it. The stark contrast with her old life sent a wave of guilt over her.
Renna slowed her steps, letting the group of girls walk ahead of her. The crowd around her was dense, forcing her to turn down the first aisle of goods. Ahead of her, Trev and Seran stopped at a vendor, rummaging through hats. Trev’s back was to her, but everything about the ordinary moment paralyzed Renna. She couldn’t move, only watch.
“How much for this hat?” Trev asked the seller, picking up a straw hat with a black ribbon.
“No!” Seran protested.
“Why? You’d look cute in it.” He placed the hat atop Seran’s head and nodded to himself.
Seran twisted her shoulder and dipped her chin in a brief pose.
“See,” Trev said, slightly adjusting the hat. “You look amazing.”
Something about the way Trev complimented Seran scraped Renna’s heart like the ground skinned her knees whenever she fell as a child.
“I don’t know. What do you think, Renna?” Seran looked past Trev right at her.
Trev turned around, his sapphire eyes showing something like embarrassment.
“I think,” Renna said, swallowing the ache in her heart, “the hat suits you.”
Seran shrugged at the vendor. “I suppose if Prince Ezra likes it, then I’ll get it.”
“Great.” Trev forced a smile, handing the man some money for the hat.
“What about you, Renna?” Seran pointed to the table. “Would you like a hat? I’m sure Ezra won’t mind.”
Renna shook her head. “You don’t need to buy me anything.”
“I would love to buy you something,” Trev said with intense eyes that awakened butterflies in Renna’s stomach.
“What about a bracelet?” Seran offered, pointing to the table next to them.
She backed away from them. “Really, I’m good.”
“I know what Renna needs.” Trev’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Follow me.”
Renna followed hesitantly after him, partly to avoid being rude and partly out of curiosity. They stopped in front of trays of rolls and frosted bread lining a table. The sweet scent of fresh-baked dough wafted around her.
“Which one do you want?” Trev gestured to the table with a knowing smile.
“You really don’t need to buy me anything.” Renna hated how he knew her so well. Hated and loved it.
“Pick one!” Trev snapped playfully.
“Cinnamon!” Renna snapped, biting back her smile.
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He turned to Seran. “Which one would you like?”
“Raisin, please,” Seran said with perfect politeness.
The three of them continued down the row of vendors, Trev in the middle of the two women. They ate their rolls in a silence that nearly choked Renna. She needed to escape the royal couple before the anguish of her situation swallowed her whole. A pair of men walked toward them on the opposite side of the aisle, making it impossible for Renna to break away. A shove pushed her toward the men, putting her directly in their way. The men stumbled to a halt, visibly surprised by the woman who had so clumsily bumped into them.
Renna awkwardly shuffled around them. “I’m so sorry!” she said through a mouthful of bread as the men walked away, shaking their heads at her.
She looked at Trev, trying to figure out how she had ended up in front of the men in the first place.
“Wow,” Trev said with a serious face. “You really need to watch where you’re going.”
Renna’s face turned red with embarrassment. She wanted to slug him in the shoulder or push him back, but she was keenly aware of Seran standing next to him with a stunned expression.
Trev looked at the princess, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Man, you can’t take Renna anywhere. Is she always like this?”
Seran released a small laugh, almost too small to even be heard. She wrapped her fingers around Trev’s forearm as she walked. “Poor Renna. You really shouldn’t tease her like that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Trev replied innocently.
Renna may not be able to punch him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get even another way. “You know, Seran, it’s a shame your father didn’t form an alliance with Appa,” Renna said casually, hoping Seran picked up on her cues. “You could’ve been engaged to King Reddick instead.”
“Yes, I hear he’s very handsome,” Seran said with a serious tone.
Trev scoffed. “Not more handsome than me.”
Renna looked at him pointedly. “Definitely more handsome than you.”
Trev’s brows bent together in offense.
“What about King Davin in Enderlin?” Seran added, leaning around Trev to speak to Renna. “He’s very attractive.”
“He’s like fifteen years older than you,” Trev whined. “And married.”
“Ah, yes,” Renna teased. “He’s old, wise, and good looking—a triple threat.”
“I can’t believe you guys,” Trev pouted, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m clearly the best choice for a husband.”
Renna pretended to look Trev over. He stopped walking, and slowly spun around in a circle, giving them a good look at every angle.
“I don’t know, Seran. What do you think?”
Seran let out a heavy breath like she was disappointed. “I suppose he’ll have to do.”
“No way.” He shook his head. “I’m the most eligible bachelor.”
Then Trev started dancing in between them, moving his hips back and forth, waving his arms in the air. Renna glanced at the people around them, eyeing their prince like he was insane. Even Seran looked like she thought he was crazy.
“I bet King Reddick can’t dance like this.” He shimmied his shoulders in front of Renna. “We know King Davin can’t dance like this.”
“Because he’s too old?” Renna asked, rolling her lips together to suppress a laugh.
“Exactly!” Trev stepped in front of a stranger, an older woman with a scarf tied on her head. He bowed in front of her, then grabbed her hands swinging her in and out, like they were dancing in a ballroom.
Seran gave Renna a sideways look, amusement brimming in her eyes. “Now we’ve really pushed him too far.”
Trev put his arm around the woman’s waist, dropping her backward into a dip. His free arm went into the air above his head forming a dramatic final pose. The audience around them clapped and cheered as Trev raised the woman up and kissed her hand.
He turned to Renna with his big smile and expressive eyes. “See? I’m a catch.”
Renna’s heart fluttered. She was totally falling for Trev, even though she knew she would get burned in a crash landing. Then she saw the mischievous smile and wink he gave Seran and the flutters in her heart went up in flames. Suddenly she wished she was anyw
here but here with the two of them. She was the third wheel. The friend.
She’d always known that would be her place, but the knowledge didn’t make the reality hurt less.
She moved toward a booth selling pre-Desolation relics. This was Renna’s chance to escape them. Her fingers grazed over several items: a cracked pair of sunglasses, a twisted aluminum can with the words Diet Coke written on the side, a rusted screwdriver.
“Miss Renna, you came to visit me!” a small voice said, bubbling with excitement.
Renna turned to see Colter and his toothless grin beaming at her. He was almost unrecognizable. His clean clothes were gone, replaced by torn brown rags. His sunken face was smeared with dirt and grime.
“Colter?” Renna looked around for his parents. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you. My papa sells vegetables.”
“Hey, Colter!” Trev said, waving at the boy.
Colter rolled his eyes. “Why are you always with the prince?”
Renna exchanged an awkward glance with Seran.
“Because I’m the host.” Trev’s answer eased the tension in Renna’s chest. “Have you met Princess Seran?”
Renna noticed the way his hand went to the small of Seran’s back as he introduced her. A small gesture that left a big hole in her already aching heart.
Colter gazed at Seran. “You’re pretty.”
Even a seven-year-old was taken by Seran’s beauty.
Seran smiled. “You’re very handsome yourself.”
Colter’s eyes lit up at the compliment. “Do you want to see our booth?” His dirty hand grabbed Renna’s. “Come on.”
Renna let the boy weave them in and out of the crowd. At the end of the far row was a broken-down wood table with a stack of rotting vegetables scattered on top—vegetables that only a desperate person would eat.
“See!” Colter said proudly. “Here’s our booth.”
A short man with hollow cheekbones came out from behind a tattered curtain.
“This is my papa,” Colter said.
“Hello.” Trev gave a warm smile to the man.
“What’s this about, boy?”
“Miss Renna came to see us, Papa. I told you she was like us. Her papa used to sell vegetables too.” Colter smiled up at his father with childlike innocence.
The man looked Renna up and down with disgust. Her clean, mint green dress suddenly felt overdone and out of place.
“She ain’t anything like us.” The man spat a seed out of his mouth onto the ground by Renna’s foot. It was all she could do not to jerk her foot back.
“And who are you?” The man nodded at Trev and Seran.
“He’s the prince!” Colter said with pride.
Trev offered his hand to Colter’s father. “Ezra Trevenna, and this is Seran Haslet.”
The man licked his chapped lips, his eyes never leaving Trev’s, but he didn’t shake his hand. “He’s not my prince. Ain’t done nothing for me.”
Trev’s hand dropped along with his smile. “Well, I’m here now. How can I help?”
“Help, huh?” The man let out a rough laugh. “Just in time for the election.” He held the curtain open and nodded at his son. “Get inside the house, boy.”
Colter frowned but obeyed his father, walking into the small shack behind the booth. Renna could see a pile of kids sitting on the dirt ground behind the curtain watching them. That was their house? That small, wooden lean-to, blasted with holes and missing a wall? How could they possibly live there? Renna’s own father sold crops for a living, but they never lived like this. Wellenbreck Farm looked like a palace compared to this shack.
“Bye, Miss Renna.”
“Bye, Colter.” Renna tried to smile. “It was nice to see you again.”
“You all best be gettin’ back to your privileged life. We don’t want to get those fancy clothes of yours dirty in the real world.”
“Perhaps we can buy some vegetables from you,” Renna offered.
Colter’s father gave a cynical laugh. “If you really want to do something,” his eyes narrowed in on Trev, “start makin’ things equal between the ruling class and the working class. There’s a big gap in what’s essential between your kind and mine.”
“We all have the same basic essential needs,” Trev said. “Perhaps you and I aren’t that different.”
“Food is essential to me. Not parties and colored clothes.”
“Here’s some money so you can buy food for your family.” Trev pulled out several coins from his pocket and placed them on the table.
“What a good guy you are,” the man sneered. “You’ve taken care of one family for a month. What about the rest of the working-class families like mine? Are you going to throw some coins at them too?”
“We’ll try to help them however we can,” Seran said while she pulled on Trev’s arm to leave.
Renna took one last look at the haggard man, the hardships of life clearly carved into the creases on his face.
“What an awful man!” Seran said when they walked far enough away.
“I don’t think he’s awful,” Renna argued. “I think he’s hungry and tired of working so hard for nothing.”
Seran smoothed her hair as she spoke. “Well, perhaps if he applied himself more, his family wouldn’t be living in poverty.”
Renna reared her head back. “How can you say that? Maybe he has no other options. Maybe he’s doing all he can within a corrupt system. What’s the Council of Essentials good for if it can’t even guarantee food and decent shelter for everyone?”
Seran bristled. “The Council of Essentials can’t be blamed for someone’s poverty.”
Renna shook her head. Seran would never understand. She had grown up in luxury, sheltered from the harsh realities of life. What about Trev? Could he see how messed up everything was?
She turned to him. “You’re going to be king. Surely there is something you can do for families like that.”
A sad expression crossed over his face. “There’s poverty in every kingdom, Renna. It’s been this way since . . . forever. I’m not sure how to fix it.”
Renna let out a frustrated breath. “What’s the point of being king if you can’t even help people?”
Trev shrugged, and his lips turned down. He looked at her, holding her gaze. “I don’t know.”
Few things had ever left Renna as unsettled as the hopelessness written across Trev’s face.
27
Queen Mariele
The pacing had to stop. Queen Mariele knew it the moment she looked down and saw the clear path she’d tread across the rug. What would the servants think when they saw it? Feeling embarrassed, she forced herself to sit at her desk and go over the treaty documents her advisors had sent for approval, but even that didn’t seem to help.
She looked at the clock again. It was well past ten a.m. She’d sent Cypress out to fetch Mangum at least a half-hour ago. Where were they?
She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear what Mangum had to say, but she had to get to the bottom of this. Ever since she’d seen Renna talking with the prince on the night of the festival, Mariele’s suspicions had deepened. She’d noticed a closeness between them, one that she couldn’t easily dismiss, and it frightened her. Then with the children, and yesterday at the Albion market, it all seemed so obvious. Renna had feelings for the prince of Albion. But, did the prince have feelings for her?
Mariele’s stomach churned at the thought. What would Bryant and the rest of New Hope think of their new queen if her daughter usurped the marriage alliance for herself? She needed Mangum to tell her that she had this all wrong. She desperately hoped he would.
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting her thoughts. It was the knock she had been waiting for. She rose from her chair and clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking.
Cypress entered and dipped into a low curtsey. “He’s in the hallway, Your Majesty. Would you like me to send him in?”
“Thank you,
Cypress.”
Cypress nodded and disappeared back out the doorway. A moment later, she appeared again with Mangum beside her, his face drawn. He stepped forward and bowed as Cypress closed the door behind them.
“I want to ask you something, Mangum, and I demand your complete honesty,” Mariele said.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He bowed again.
“The man you found with Renna by Wellenbreck Pond. Have you seen him here at the palace?”
He nodded.
“Who is he?”
The shame in his eyes gave it away before he spoke. “It was Prince Ezra.”
Mariele had expected this, had tried to prepare herself, but hearing her suspicions confirmed sent a shock through her just the same. She gasped, letting go of a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and lowered herself back into her chair.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Mangum dipped his face down with guilt. “I didn’t realize he was the prince until we arrived in Albion. I wanted to tell you, but Renna begged me not to. She said that her and the prince were just friends and that she knew her place. She didn’t want to worry you.”
A bright flare of anger shot through her. “You should have told me, Mangum. It’s not your place to decide what I, your queen, should or should not worry about.”
Mangum stood rigidly with his arms at his sides. “I made a serious mistake, Your Majesty. I have failed you.”
“Who else knows about this? King Carver?”
“I don’t believe King Carver suspects anything. But your daughter’s maid . . .” He paused, looking in Cypress’s direction.
“She’s fine to hear whatever you have to say.”
“Renna’s maid told me that Renna received a note and a gift a few nights ago. I searched Renna’s belongings when she went down to breakfast and found the note.”
Mangum pulled a small, folded piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and handed it to Queen Mariele.
Shooting Cypress a worried look, Mariele unfolded the letter and began to read. With each word, her chest tightened, constricting the airflow to her lungs.
“The letter is signed by Tybolt. Not from the prince.” Mariele looked up at Mangum questioningly.
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