“He sounds pretty amazing.”
“He was.” Renna looked into Trev’s eyes, and it suddenly hit her why her heart hung on to him so tightly. “You’re a lot like him.”
“Me?” He shook his head. “Probably not, but I’ll take the compliment.” His mouth raised into a half-smile. “How did he die?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “He just got sick. It happened so fast that I barely noticed I was losing him, and then he was gone.”
“I bet you miss him a lot.”
Renna looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. “At first, the pain was suffocating, but I guess after so many years, I’ve just gotten used to it. Grief sticks with you—it changes and shifts as you grow, but it never leaves you.”
He nodded his head slowly. “I like that description.”
“Do you ever miss your mother?”
“I never knew her, but I miss the idea of her.”
“What about Queen Avina? She died when you were young, right?”
“Yeah, I was only seven. I don’t remember much. Sometimes I think I remember things, or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me because how could I really remember? I was so little when she died.”
“What do you remember?”
Trev looked past her, as if far away for a moment. “Flying a kite in the palace courtyard. Sitting with her on a horse. Her tousling my hair. Simple things. Flashes of memories. But mostly, I just remember the feeling of being loved and how happy that made me. I haven’t felt loved since the day Queen Avina died.”
Renna’s heart broke for him, and without thinking, she placed her hand over his. His face turned to hers, his blue eyes looking deep into her soul. They sat there silently—the air circulating so much between them.
Trev broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said . . . about the purpose of being the king if I can’t help anybody.”
Renna sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was frustrated about Colter and his family. I’m sure you’ll help a lot of people.”
“No, you were right. I want to help people like Colter. I want to be better than my father. You make me want to be better. Sometimes . . .” He paused as if he was unsure of what he was about to say. “Sometimes I think about how things might have been different between us if I wasn’t the prince.”
“Or marrying Seran?” Renna raised her eyebrow, reminding him of the obvious.
“Yes, or marrying Seran.” He said it in a respectful way.
“Aren’t there any loopholes in this arranged marriage thing?” Renna laughed, trying to cover up how vulnerable that question made her feel. “I mean, if you’re elected to royalty, and it’s not a bloodline thing, why does marrying a princess even matter?”
Trev rubbed the top of her skin with his thumb. “It’s more about who Seran is. Not what. She’s the daughter of the king of New Hope. She’s the link to a powerful alliance. The marriage isn’t about a prince marrying a princess. It’s about two powerful families and kingdoms coming together through marriage. The marriage will secure my future as king. It will help me win the election. It will protect Albion from Tolsten.”
She nodded, already knowing why the arrangement had been made long ago. They sat in silence until she admitted, “I’ve thought about it too—how things would have been if we were just two regular people.”
The honesty about their situation felt good, natural even.
“What would’ve happened if we could’ve just continued what we started at Wellenbreck?” he said, his voice low.
“We probably would’ve gotten married and had a bunch of children,” Renna said, her voice playful, belying the serious mood. “They would run around, be too loud, and be covered in mud. I would yell at them—”
He cut into her make-believe story. “And then I would yell at you for yelling at our children.”
She laughed. “We’d fight all the time. You’d tell me I was acting crazy, and I’d throw a book at you.”
“No, I would never say that. I like you best when you’re crazy.” He leaned in closer, and Renna could feel the warmth of his breath against her hair. “I would tell you every day how beautiful you were and how much I loved being with you.”
It was all pretend, but she couldn’t help but notice how he had said I loved being with you, and not I love you.
His words were quiet again, breaching her thoughts. “I would never take you for granted.”
With each word, her feelings got more tangled up in him, knotting so tightly, she feared they might never be undone. The boundaries she placed carefully around her heart were getting smaller and smaller. She released his hand, hugging her knees close to her chest as if that would stop the ache swirling inside of her. She didn’t care how unladylike the position made her look.
She dared a glance at him, the man who made her heart beat like it never had before. Everything with Trev had been red hot. The feelings came fast and forcefully. He was her friend. He was the man that constantly made her laugh. The man that said honest things to her.
“We would have been pretty amazing,” she mused with a longing she couldn’t hide.
“I think so.” Sadness hung on his words. “I guess we’ll never really know.”
They stood at a crossroad, with Trev choosing to honor a promise made long ago—choosing a future of duty and righteous intentions.
And Renna had to let him. He was never meant to be hers. He was meant to be king. Meant to be Seran’s. That had already been decided.
There was a new understanding between them. It was really over. Their relationship would no longer hide behind the guise of friendship.
“I guess I’ll let you get back to your conversation with your dad.” He scooted down to the ground. “Tell him I said hi.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Renna watched until the darkness absorbed him, leaving her alone with her thoughts, her loneliness and the quiet aching of her desperate heart.
29
Trev
Trev lay awake, eyes wide as he stared up into the darkness of his room. He should be asleep, but he kept seeing Renna’s face—seeing their future, their happiness, their love.
Love.
It was true; Trev hadn’t felt loved since the day Queen Avina had died. His father had always shown him the opposite of love. Their entire relationship was based on how Trev could help him advance politically. His marriage to Seran would be based on the same thing.
Was it wrong to want love in his life? To want to love and be loved in return? He couldn’t lose the last person in his life that made him feel loved.
His own words kept running through his mind. The marriage isn’t about a prince marrying a princess. It’s about two powerful families and kingdoms coming together through marriage. The marriage will secure my future as king. It will help me win the election. That was the reasoning behind marrying Seran, but couldn’t all that be done with Renna too? Afterall, Renna’s mother was the Queen of New Hope. Renna was a part of the royal family.
New Hope had two princesses, two royal daughters. Seran was the only one with royal blood, of course, but did that really matter? The marriage was a physical representation of a political union. He just had to marry someone who represented New Hope. Couldn’t that someone be Renna?
It all made sense in his mind. Perhaps there was a way they could be together.
He just needed to convince his father.
Trev passed a hand over his face, groaning. It wouldn’t be easy. But he had to try.
He had never requested a private audience with the king and could see the shock on Gaines’s face the next morning when he asked for one. Sweat gathered all over his body as he waited in his father’s office. Was it hot, or was it just his nerves? He brought his hand to his mouth, fidgeting with his lower lip. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. The pressure of what he was about to ask weighed him down like a boulder in his heart. It was the conversation of his life.
H
is father entered the room, barely acknowledging him with a brusque glance. “Make this quick. I only have a few minutes.”
Trev stood as Gaines shut the door, leaving him alone with his father. He didn’t want anyone to overhear what he needed to say. The king sat at his desk and looked down at a stack of papers, giving him no attention.
Trev cleared his throat. “I don’t want to marry Princess Seran.”
His father calmly raised his eyes, keeping his chin down toward the desk. “You don’t have a choice.”
“I want to marry Renna,” he said boldly.
His father’s eye twitched, and Trev could tell he was starting to get annoyed. “Who?”
“Renna Degray, Queen Mariele’s daughter.” He shouldn’t have to remind his father who Renna was.
The king laughed once, though clearly was not amused. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not joking. I want you to talk with Queen Mariele and tell her we still want to honor the marriage alliance, but with her daughter. Not Princess Seran.”
Carver leaned back in his chair, his hands resting behind his head. If Trev didn’t know the seriousness of the conversation, he would have guessed by his father’s relaxed posture that they were talking about the weather.
“This alliance was devised between King Bryant and me. Queen Mariele is here on Bryant’s behalf to approve the treaty, not to rewrite it.”
“Then talk to King Bryant.”
King Carver spoke slowly. “You want me to tell King Bryant that his daughter—his only daughter—who happens to be a beautiful princess, isn’t good enough for my son?”
“She is good enough,” Trev said firmly. “But I want Renna.”
His father stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then he waved his hand casually. “Then have the girl. Just don’t let anyone know. We can set her up with a house in the city.” He looked satisfied, like he had just solved all the world’s problems.
“No.” Keep Renna as a mistress? Sickness stirred in his stomach. He could never do that to her. “No, I want to marry Renna. Her mother is the queen. She’s part of the royal family too. She has the same connections as Seran, and the alliance with New Hope can stay the same. Just talk to Bryant. I’m sure he won’t mind. Renna is his stepdaughter. He must have fond feelings for her too.”
His father lowered his voice to a disgusted whisper. “The entire future of this country, not to mention your future as King of Albion, depends on the protection and connections that this alliance with New Hope provides.” His voice grew louder. “How will it look to voters if you toss aside an attractive, well-connected princess for a peasant whose only claim to power is through her mother’s pathetic second marriage to a king?” He scoffed. “They will say that you can’t make up your mind, that you are fickle. You will lose everything, and Joniss Doman will stand ready to pick up the pieces. I will not speak to King Bryant. You will marry Princess Seran. End of discussion.”
“No, we’re not done here.” Trev’s heart beat faster, determination racing like fire through his veins. He’d never spoken to his father like this. A part of him wanted to shy away, afraid of his anger, but Trev refused to retreat. Not this time. Renna was worth it. “I’m not going to marry Seran. Talk to your advisors, come up with a plan, a new way to spin it.”
“There’s no new way to spin it. She’s completely unsuitable to be queen. She’s a liability!” the king yelled.
“You’re wrong about her.”
A loud knock sounded at the door just before Gaines pushed it open. “You’re ten-o’clock meeting is here.” Gaines held the door open as a group of three men entered the king’s office.
The king lowered his voice so only Trev could hear. “I refuse to hear anything more about this. If you do anything to jeopardize this alliance or the election, I will see to it that both you and Miss Degray pay the price.” Then he dismissed Trev with a flippant wave of his hand.
With Gaines and the other three men watching, Trev had no choice. He gave his father a stiff nod, then turned and stormed out the door. This wasn’t over. He’d show his father that he could win the election and keep Renna. He had to.
30
Renna
Renna fidgeted with her peach dress under the dinner table, wishing she hadn’t chosen a seat at the royal table. She thought she was a good daughter by sitting by her mother’s side at dinner, even if they still weren’t speaking. But her mother never showed up. Still sick, or at least that was what Renna told everyone when she didn’t come down. Now Renna was alone, watching a room full of conversations take place around her.
“Miss Degray?” Renna’s arm jerked, hitting the table with a loud thud. The king’s intimidating voice continued, “What do you do?”
Renna looked to the other dinner guests at the royal table. Drake was in the middle of telling a story to Lizanne and Sheridan but paused when the king addressed Renna. A few high rulers down the table whipped their heads in her direction, and Trev’s body tensed next to his father. It was as if everyone at the table was as surprised as she was that the king addressed her. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since her arrival in Albion almost two weeks ago.
Unnerved by his attention and confused by the question, she replied tentatively, “Sire?”
King Carver leaned forward and laced his fingers together, eyes boring into her. “Princess Seran tells me that she spent much of her days back in Albion delving into politics, educating herself, and speaking with advisors, always hard at work learning to be a good ruler. What activities did you engage in?”
Renna blinked. “I studied with tutors . . . and I attended political functions with my mother and Princess Seran.”
“And what else?” King Carver asked, his expression thick with judgment.
Renna’s thoughts spun. Truthfully, she spent what free time she had by the ocean, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t what the king wanted to hear. She tried to think of something else, but the look in his eyes seemed to choke out any other answer. Feebly, she responded, “Nothing else.”
The king challenged her with a scowl. “You do nothing, Miss Degray?”
“I . . .” Renna’s eyes flickered to Trev for help, but he looked disappointed with her answers, making everything worse. “Nothing. I do nothing.”
The king’s face twisted into an ugly frown. “Do you have talents? Accomplishments? Connections?”
Renna tried to speak, but her mind was blank. The king’s glare ripped through her, making it impossible for her to think clearly. Everyone stared at her, waiting for an answer. “Uh . . . no, not really.”
“Hm.” He gave Trev a deliberate look before steering the conversation away from her.
Slowly, she reached for the glass in front of her and brought it to her lips. The cold liquid coated her dry throat, but it did nothing for her racing heart. She didn’t know what game the king was playing, but she had lost. Of course, a thousand answers came to her mind now that the king’s intimidating eyes weren’t cutting into her.
She wasn’t nothing.
Renna had talents and accomplishments. She knew how to work on a farm. How to prep soil, plant seeds, and harvest a crop. She knew how to sew. How to train a horse. How to fix a broken wagon wheel. She was a country girl—Kimball Degray’s daughter. She was genuine, hardworking, kind, and thoughtful. She was passionate and witty. Bold and daring. She could sit around a fire with the working class or mingle with the ruling class in a fancy ballroom. She may not have connections, but she connected with ordinary people in a way that Seran never had.
It was too late for those answers now. Her chance to impress the king was gone.
When dinner was over, Renna hung back behind the dinner guests as they were being led out to the courtyard for a surprise.
“What did you do to make the king so upset?” Drake fell into a slow walk next to her, following behind the group.
“I have no idea.” She shrugged as the cool evening air swept over her.
“H
e really hates you,” Drake snickered.
Renna groaned. “I know.” She leaned her forehead against the metal gate surrounding the courtyard. “He does hate me. I think he was contemplating whether or not he could have me killed at dinner right then and there.” She lifted her head from the gate. “I just need to get out of this stupid kingdom.”
Drake coughed back a laugh.
“What?” She didn’t feel like playing games right now.
He pointed to her face. “You have a grease mark on your forehead from the gate.”
Her hand flew to her head, trying to cover up the mark, but instead, grease smeared onto her fingers and across her forehead. Her eyes went wide with alarm.
“King Carver can’t see me like this!” she said, panic filling her voice.
“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Drake put his arm around her, ushering her through the crowd.
Her hand still covered her forehead as she ducked down. “I can’t give the king any more reasons to hate me.”
“Relax,” Drake reassured her. “He’s looking up.”
An explosion of light and sound burst above them, making Renna jump. The crowd squealed with delight.
“What was that?” She looked up, forgetting to cover the grease.
“Fireworks,” Drake said over the cheers.
“What?” Another explosion lit up the sky, causing her whole body to jump.
“You don’t know what fireworks are?”
“I know what they are, but I’ve never seen them before. They aren’t really deemed essential.”
Drake’s expression turned cold. “I don’t think King Carver cares what’s deemed essential.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Renna said, walking slowly through the crowd as she looked up at the colorful sky.
Drake shoved her body to the right, avoiding a collision with an onlooker, but the move put her right in front of the king and Trev—both of them getting a good look at the grease mark on her forehead. The king shot Renna a deadly stare, and immediately her hand went back up.
The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance Page 21