“Renna, what has gotten into you?” Her voice was laced with panic. “Go upstairs and put something appropriate on.”
“Who says this dress isn’t appropriate? The Council of Essentials? They don’t even follow their own rules.” She tried to make her voice sound kind, easing her mother off the ledge. There were too many people around for her mother to make a big scene.
Renna wriggled her arm free from her mother’s grasp and continued through the crowd. With each stare, look, and nod, she grew bolder and bolder until her feet were taking her past the king.
“You’re testing my patience, girl.” The king’s fangy teeth were barred. He looked like a wolf ready to devour her.
“Like you said, I’m a liability.” She returned his gaze with a fierce look of her own. “I can’t help it.”
Was he going to rip off her dress like the evil stepsisters in the pre-Desolation Cinderella fairytale? That would draw too much attention, but the look in his eyes suggested he was contemplating it. His boney, sharp chin jutted out, but then his body turned from her, and he walked away.
The breath she had been holding escaped.
There was one last person to confront.
Trev stood in the middle of the ballroom with Drake. Both men hadn’t taken their eyes off her since she’d descended the stairs.
Despite Trev’s good looks, his elegant suit and the glittering gold crown on his head, right now, Renna knew she looked better.
Trev
The first thing Trev saw was Renna’s smooth, lean leg as it gracefully kicked out from the slit in her dress as she walked down the stairs into the great hall. The sight rattled his insides like nothing ever had before. To say he was speechless would be an understatement.
Drake was mid-drink when he saw her and practically choked.
All Trev could do was stand there and stare at Renna in that red dress.
“It’s the dress from the magazine,” Drake somehow got out.
“I . . .” Trev couldn’t locate his voice. It was caught somewhere in his throat or caught up in Renna. “She . . . she . . . looks way better than the woman in the magazine. How did she . . .” Trev’s words trailed off as Renna approached, her bare skin affecting every nerve in his entire body.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” She bent down in a slight curtsey. Trev’s eyes followed a little too closely, and judging by the smug smile on her face, she knew exactly where he had looked. He hadn’t done a good job hiding it this time.
She paused for a moment in front of them, and then walked away, lost in the crowd. All that remained was her perfume floating in the air.
Drake slapped him on the back. “You’re in big trouble tonight.”
Trev had to peel his eyes away from Renna’s smooth shoulder, from the stretch of her neck, the lengths of her bare arms.
He couldn’t just stare. Oh, but what he would give to just stare.
“There you are.” Seran’s sleek hand wrapped around his forearm, startling him. “The king said you were looking for me.”
Trev glanced at his father and knew what the king’s stern expression meant.
“He said you wanted to dance with me.” She smiled in her flirtatious way, raising her right shoulder in the process. Apparently, she had been unphased by Renna and her red dress.
This was the agreement he had made—the life he had chosen. From the outside looking in, it was the most straightforward trade-off ever.
Marry a beautiful princess and stop the murder of King Adler.
Trev could imagine people rolling their eyes at his pain.
“Yes, he’s right.” He gestured to the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”
The crowd parted, letting the royal couple through to the center of the ballroom. Trev nodded at all the admiring faces as he took Seran in his arms. They were the perfect couple—the ideal future for Albion.
They swirled around the floor in coordinated grace until his eye caught on something he couldn’t look away from. Renna.
One of his officers held her close as they swayed to the music, his face nuzzling into her bare neck. Trev stumbled a bit, stepping on Seran’s toes, making her squeal in pain. Their bodies awkwardly bumped into each other as they tried to get back to their graceful steps again. Everyone’s eyes were on them, and his face heated with embarrassment. Did everyone in the room know he had been tripped up by Renna?
The song ended, prompting him to part from Seran. “Sorry. I’m usually better at this.”
Seran smiled tersely but pulled him to her as another song started. “Let’s just do it better this time. Everyone’s watching.” Her smile widened as she looked at their audience. Trev spun them around, positioning her so that her back was to Renna, giving him the perfect angle to watch her. She was dancing with a new officer now, laughing and leaning her body into the young man’s, making him pull her closer.
Slow song after slow song played. Who were these musicians? They were all fired. Forever.
As Trev held Seran in his arms—Renna in the arms of everyone else—he realized with sickening clarity that none of the other men could ever possibly feel as much for her as he did.
Renna
The line of men wanting to dance was a bit overwhelming. Officer after officer grabbed Renna’s hand and kept her out on the dance floor. Her feet were sore, and she was so hungry, but King Carver was somewhere across the room, so she kept dancing, kept acting like she was having the time of her life, like a corrupt king couldn’t control her.
At the beginning of a new song, Mr. Tybolt grabbed her arm, his sweaty palms sticky against her skin. “I have been waiting for this moment all night.”
Instinctively she leaned away. “Where’s your lovely wife tonight?”
He licked his perpetually chapped lips. “She’s not here.”
Where was all the luck in the world?
Tybolt wrapped his arm around her possessively, turning her to him. She was trapped.
“Tybolt.” A new voice broke in. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m going to steal Miss Renna from you.” Renna’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“Officer Doman.” Tybolt coughed nervously, obviously not wanting to let go of his turn. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we’re done.”
“I’m done with waiting,” Joniss said, pulling Renna free from Tybolt’s grip. He wore a dark purple suit, and his brown hair was slicked back away from his face. “My apologies, sir.”
Tybolt looked stunned, but what could he do? Joniss Doman was intimidating in the most charming, charismatic way.
“I’m surprised you even remember my name,” Renna said sarcastically as they started to dance. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”
“That was clearly a mistake on my part.” He scanned her body with his eyes.
Renna had wanted attention tonight. She wouldn’t have worn the dress if she hadn’t wanted to be noticed, but she hadn’t thought about how it would make her feel to have guy after guy drooling over her. Or drooling over her body, at least. That wasn’t the kind of attention she wanted. She wanted to prove she had a mind of her own. She wanted to challenge the rules of society.
Joniss led her to the center of the dance floor. The music had already begun playing. Renna dared a glance at Trev, and, as if on cue, Joniss put his arm around her waist.
Trev was definitely paying attention.
“So tell me, why the dress? Obviously, I’m a fan, but it does seem a bit . . . unlike you.”
Renna’s words were short. “How would you know what is or isn’t like me?”
Joniss laughed. “You’re flashing attitude tonight. I like it.” He pulled her closer.
Renna rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was another arrogant man in her life.
“Is he watching?” Joniss asked, nodding his head toward Trev.
Renna clamped her mouth shut. She wasn’t about to give anything away to the irritable man; he already seemed to know too much.
“Don�
��t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m excellent at reading people,” he boasted.
Her mouth remained shut.
“We can help each other, you know.” He tilted his head so he could see her better. “We both want the same thing—for Ezra to suffer.”
Renna kept her face expressionless. Was that what she wanted? For Trev to suffer? She had hoped he’d notice her in the dress. Hoped he’d feel a small part of the hurt that had torn through her yesterday like a tornado. But to hear it come from Joniss’s mouth like that, like they were plotting some big scheme? It all sounded so callous. The truth was, despite her broken heart, she wanted Trev to be happy. She wanted happiness for Seran and her mother too. Fighting over a love that was never meant to be hers was the most foolish thing she had ever done.
Renna stiffened when Joniss’s hand slid farther down her back—lower than any other man had dared that night. The audacity of this guy was astonishing. She reached around her back and pulled his hand up until it was at a more respectable level.
“My hand placement was strictly strategic, I assure you.” Joniss gave her an innocent smirk. “I’m only trying to help you with Ezra.”
“How considerate of you.” She gave him a warning look, but it didn’t seem to faze him. “But I don’t need any help with Prince Ezra. I’m afraid you’re not as good at reading people as you think. Nothing is going on between Prince Ezra and me.”
The song ended, and Renna stepped back.
“I’m going to need proof that I’m wrong about you two. Proof that I’m not good at reading people,” Joniss said.
“What?”
“Prove it,” he challenged.
Before Renna could say anything else, Joniss grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd toward Trev.
Trev
“Ezra! I thought it was time you danced with your soon-to-be sister-in-law,” Joniss said, pulling Renna toward the royal table where he sat with Seran, the king, and a few high rulers.
Hate was a strong word, but after tonight, Trev could definitely say he hated Joniss.
Renna shook her head in protest. “I . . . I . . . think he should dance with Seran.” Her pleading eyes looked back at Joniss.
“Yes, I agree. Ezra should dance with the princess.” His father weighed in on the matter a little too quickly.
Trev stood. “Sorry to disappoint you, Joniss, but I promised Seran we would dance again.” Trev stretched his hand out in front of Seran, willing her to take him up on it.
“I’m actually a little tired.” Seran’s expression was guarded.
Trev felt desperate. He couldn’t dance with Renna. Not tonight.
“Perfect! Renna can keep Ezra company while you rest. You don’t mind, Princess, do you?” Joniss raised one cunning eyebrow.
“Of course not. Why would I mind?” Seran flashed a calculated smile at Joniss.
Trev remembered Seran’s words. She’d said Renna was harmless, but he wasn’t sure Seran genuinely believed that. Was this a test?
“Actually, Ezra should be getting ready for the signing of the treaty.” His father stood abruptly. The desperation in his father’s voice added to Trev’s panic.
Maxwell Doman, still sitting at the table, began to laugh. “What are you going to do, Your Majesty, go fetch the pens? I’m sure Gaines has everything prepared already.”
“He’s right,” Levi Karda added. “Let the boy enjoy himself.”
“I apologize.” Renna looked to the king and the group of men around the table, pretty much anywhere but at Trev. “I’m a little thirsty. I think I’ll sit this next song out.”
“Renna, it’s just a dance.” Joniss gave her a pointed look before turning to Trev. “Unless, Ezra, you can think of some reason why you two shouldn’t dance.”
Joniss was manipulating him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Of course not.”
“Then dance with her.” His manipulation turned into a challenge.
Trev swallowed hard, reaching for Renna’s hand. “My lady?”
She nodded, cautiously putting her feather-like fingers on his.
They walked across the swirled marble in silence, bodies tense. The song had already begun—another slow song, of course. Trev swung her around to face him, their eyes meeting. She looked as scared as he felt. He placed his arm around her, his hand on her bare back. The feel of her skin burned into his touch. Their movements were guarded and stiff, both of them trying to keep the tension between them in check. They didn’t speak, just glided through the crowded dance floor robotically. Other couples swayed close by, not knowing the agony inside of Trev. For surely, this was agony. To have Renna in his arms, but not be able to truly hold her, feel her.
An accidental bump from a couple nearby forced him to step closer to her.
“Excuse us, Your Highness,” the man chirped before steering his partner away.
Renna’s breath caught, and she leaned in just a fraction, as if momentarily forgetting that distance between them was their only means of self-preservation. Trev briefly closed his eyes and breathed in her perfume, a light citrus scent that was now his favorite smell. Her head melted into the closeness of his cheek, allowing him to whisper in her ear, “You look beautiful tonight.”
She didn’t pull away.
He tightened his arm around her back in a more intimate way. The movement closed the gap between them even more.
She sucked in the air around her.
“I’ve wondered all night what it would feel like to dance with you, to hold you.” He could feel strands of her hair on his lips as he whispered in her ear.
“Please,” she whimpered, shying away from his touch.
“Sorry.” He remembered himself and the room full of people.
They spun around the dance floor in a choking silence until finally, Trev laughed to himself. “I’ve never wanted to hold or hug something so bad in my life. I feel actual pain in my chest as real as any gunshot wound—a tangible, physical pain.”
“Stop saying things like that.” Renna pulled away even more, the space like a cold breeze against his skin.
“I just think it’s crazy. Don’t you? To feel physical pain because I can’t hug you or touch you.” He turned his head toward hers, the tip of his nose barely touching her cheek. “Do you feel the pain too?”
There was an audible swallow before she inched her face away from his.
“That was a stupid question,” he continued. “I know you feel pain. I know I hurt you.”
Renna breathed heavily against him. “I can’t—”
“I need to explain about the other night.”
Her body stiffened even more.
He hated to be the reason for her distress. “I just want you to know that I never—”
“I can’t do this.” She pulled away from his grasp like she was desperate to escape. If the look in her eyes was any indication, she was desperate to escape.
35
Renna
Renna couldn’t breathe. The tight dress suffocated and squeezed her. Feelings for Trev exploded within, her skin the only thing holding them inside. She hurried for the stairs, Trev’s stunned expression in her wake.
Joniss grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I think you just proved me right.”
She yanked out of his grasp, climbing the stairs as fast as her stupid dress would allow. Someone scrambled behind her, following. Picking up her pace, she made it to the top of the stairs and headed for the second-floor sitting room.
“Renna!” Trev called down the hall, piercing her heart. She kept moving.
“Renna!” he begged again behind her.
She pushed open the wooden doors to the sitting room, quickly making her way to the window. She needed air to help her heaving chest. Furiously, she fidgeted with the lock on the window, but it wouldn’t budge. Tears already streamed down her cheeks when she heard Trev enter the room behind her.
“Renna?” She could sense he was c
oming toward her—slowly, cautiously.
She stood with her back to him, swiping at her tear-filled eyes. “Please just go back downstairs. People will notice you’re gone.”
“I can’t. Not until I know you’re okay.” His warm fingers gently wrapped around her shoulders, sending chills everywhere, forcing her to turn her body to look at him.
His blue eyes were stormy with sadness and regret. She wanted nothing more than to sink into his arms and let him console her broken heart, even though he was the one who had broken it.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you.” His voice was low and genuine. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
His sincerity prompted the fall of another one of her tears. His hands sweetly cupped her face allowing his thumb to wipe the tear away; the intimate touch all but completely melted her willpower.
“You mean too much to me. I hate myself for hurting you.” His eyes were so concerned, twisting her heart like a wet rag. “Last night with Seran—”
“You don’t have to explain.” Renna tried to be brave. She stepped back from him, trying to wiggle out of his perfect grasp. The wall and the velvet curtains were against her back, but somehow he was still just as close—too close.
“I need to explain.” He reached out, his fingers gently playing with the tips of her own fingers. “Seran and I have never—”
Renna placed her hand on his chest to stop his talking, to stop him from getting closer, which he seemed to be doing effortlessly. His chest moved up and down and his heart raced against her palm. “It’s none of my business,” she said weakly.
“You need to know.” His voice was as soft as the velvety fabric behind her. “Besides the festival, that was the first time Seran and I have kissed.”
The way his fingers gently grazed her skin, the way his heart spoke to her, the way his blue eyes seemed to know her, made her entire soul ache with the pain he’d mentioned earlier. It really was a piercing, physical pain.
She wanted him.
Needed him.
The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance Page 24