The Promised Prince: A YA Dystopian Romance

by Kortney Keisel

  “Cypress!” the queen shouted excitedly. “Help me freshen up before he arrives. I want to look my best.”

  “Certainly, Your Majesty.” Cypress quickly followed the queen out the door.

  The courtyard was lined with people much like it had been the day Renna had arrived so many weeks ago. So much had happened since then. It was a lifetime ago, but Renna could still remember her feelings, the shock and disappointment she’d felt when she’d discovered who Trev really was, when the ground had dropped out from underneath her.

  The New Hope transporter rolled to a stop in front of the palace steps, and Mangum rushed forward to open the door. King Bryant stepped out, and his brown eyes immediately found Mariele. His smile widened as he took her in. Then he glanced at Seran, the same happy smile touching his lips. Mangum ushered him to King Carver.

  Everyone watched in silence as the two kings greeted each other. Renna couldn’t help but notice their differences. King Bryant was a little bit shorter and held more weight around his midsection and shoulders. His brown hair hadn’t yet faded to gray like Carver’s had, and his wrinkles weren’t as prominent—a small sign that Bryant was a few years younger.

  It was all her mother could do to stand properly next to King Carver and not run to Bryant, but she stayed put through all the introductions. And so did Seran. Then Bryant turned to the queen, his hand gently caressing the side of her face. Her eyes closed as she melted into his touch.

  “You get more exquisite every day,” Bryant said. “How is that possible?”

  A young Prince Bryant and a young Mariele flashed before Renna’s eyes. She could picture them in love, sneaking around the Government Center. Her heart clenched. It was a vision all too familiar to Renna.

  “And you,” he turned to Seran, “there’s never been a more beautiful bride.”

  Both women beamed at Bryant’s attention.

  “Renna, it’s good to see you,” he said, nodding at her.

  Renna curtseyed in front of him. “It’s good to see you too, Your Majesty.”

  “Have you been enjoying your time in Albion?”

  She glanced at her mother. “Of course, thank you.”

  Once the formal introductions were done and the crowd started to disperse, Mariele and Seran flanked both sides of the king. Bryant’s arms draped across their shoulders, hugging the two women closer to his sides.

  Renna trailed awkwardly behind, just like she always did.

  42

  Trev

  Seran’s joyous laughter echoed from the royal sitting room. Trev hadn’t seen her since the morning after the ball, and he wondered if she would be happy to see him again or if her happy laughter would fade at the sight of him. He found her on the couch with a man twice her age, holding hands and smiling.

  “Ezra!” She hopped up, dragging the man up with her.

  Trev had never seen that kind of unrestrained movement from Seran before.

  “I want to introduce you to my father.” She beamed from ear to ear. “King Bryant.”

  Trev bowed. “Your Majesty. It is an honor to meet you. I’m so sorry I missed your arrival yesterday. We were desperately trying to get back.”

  That wasn’t true. Trev had desperately been trying to stall his arrival as long as he possibly could.

  King Bryant reached his hand out to shake Trev’s. “No apologies are necessary. I understand the hectic schedule of a ruling family. He looked Trev up and down before turning to Seran. “So this is the man who will marry my daughter.”

  Seran smiled with pride. Trev could see the similarities in them. They had the same thin nose, the same high cheekbones, but everyone that knew Queen Isadora said Seran looked exactly like her.

  “I trust you are good enough for her,” the king said.

  It was like he had thrown a knife right into Trev’s heart. He laughed his guilt off. “I doubt anyone is good enough for your daughter, but I will try every day to be worthy of her.”

  “That’s what I want to hear.” The king slapped Trev on the back. “Besides, if you don’t treat her well, I have an entire army that I’ll send after you.”

  The king laughed, but for some reason, Trev didn’t feel like it was a joke. His eye caught Seran’s. She looked uncomfortable.

  “Let’s go down to dinner,” Seran said, clutching her father’s arm, practically dragging him out of the room.

  43

  Renna

  Renna sat as far away from the royal table as she could. She was alone at her table so far, but whoever came to sit by her would be a better dining companion than King Carver.

  Chills went to the back of her neck as someone whispered in her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

  She turned slightly, seeing Joniss out of the corner of her eye. “That’s funny. I haven’t missed you at all.”

  Joniss laughed her insult off, taking the seat beside her. Maybe the royal table would have been better than this. “Are you sure you want to sit by me?” she asked. “I’m kind of a lot to handle.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m good at handling things.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You look ravishing tonight in blue.”

  “This old thing? It was supposed to be the dress I wore to the ball last week.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows raised in interest. “Honestly, I prefer the red dress. Do you still have it? So I can take it off you later?” His smile was steamy and wicked.

  She glared at him, trying to decide if Joniss was refreshingly fun or if she wanted to punch him in his handsome face.

  “Now that we have a groom, we can finally get this wedding out of the way. I was beginning to worry Ezra wasn’t coming back.”

  Renna choked on her drink a little bit.

  “Ahhh,” Joniss said annoyingly. “You didn’t know he was back?”

  She cleared her voice. “Why would I know anything about the prince?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get over Ezra.” Joniss winked at her. “I’m really good at what I do.”

  Renna didn’t dare ask what, exactly, it was that he was really good at.

  The trumpets sounded, turning all eyes to the stairs, except Renna’s. She focused on the table, her napkin, the ground, anything but the royal family.

  Everyone took their seats, and King Carver motioned for dinner to begin.

  Maxwell Doman and a few other prominent men Renna recognized joined Joniss at their table. There was a lot of political discussion, making it easy for Renna to hardly ever speak. Overall, she considered it a very successful dinner. Now she just needed to get out of there before she ran into Trev.

  “Leaving so early?” Joniss asked as she scooted her chair back to go.

  “Yes.” She didn’t plan on staying a minute longer than she had to.

  He stood with a smirk. “I’ll join you.” Renna placed her hand on his chest to stop him. He raised an eyebrow at her intimate touch. “Is that an invitation?”

  Quickly her hand shot to her side. “Not in the least. I’m leaving alone tonight.”

  “I’m up for a challenge.” He cocked an eyebrow.

  I’m sure you are.

  She turned to leave, but behind her, a familiar voice almost stopped her in her tracks. He was still a distance away, but she recognized Trev instantly. Her hands began to shake, nausea swelling in her stomach.

  After all the convincing she had done in her head, he still made the world shake, still made her heart race. She moved through the crowd in the opposite direction as fast as she could, but she heard Joniss behind her.

  “Ezra, what kind of man abandons his fiancée right before their wedding?” Joniss said loudly.

  “I was in Axville helping the people,” Trev bit back.

  “Did you find the missing girls?”

  “No.”

  Renna heard Joniss’s response before slipping out the side door. “Perhaps I’ll visit Axville as well. See what I can do to help.”

  A soft kn
ock tapped on Renna’s door. The dinner party had long since ended, and Renna was getting ready for bed. Nora opened the door.

  “May I speak with Miss Renna?” Mangum’s voice was timid, quiet.

  Renna sat up in bed, nodding to Nora to let him in.

  He stepped into the dim room. “Forgive me if I woke you.”

  “Not at all. What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I’m coming to Wellenbreck with you to live. I’m sure you don’t want a babysitter, but I agree with your mother that you shouldn’t go alone, even though Nellie and Preetis are there. You are still part of the royal family, and you should be protected.”

  Renna processed his words. “You’re going to come to Wellenbreck Farm with me?”

  He nodded. “Is that okay?”

  She couldn’t help it; she jumped out of bed and threw her arms around Mangum’s neck.

  Ever since the ruins, things had been different with Mangum. There was a tenderness in the way Mangum looked at her. Renna’s father used to look at her like that—like she was the most special girl in the world. “I would love for you to come to Wellenbreck!”

  Mangum laughed freely, awkwardly hugging her back. “I can work too, you know. I used to work on the Swire Farm.”

  Renna stepped back to see him. “Just as long as you don’t tell my mother everything I do there.”

  He laughed a full, hearty laugh. “Some things are best kept just between us.”

  44

  Trev

  Every hour it seemed like another distinguished guest arrived. The prince of Cristole, the queen mother of Enderlin, and now King Adler of Tolsten walked toward the palace’s front steps where Trev stood with his father.

  Adler was tall and big, with straight black hair slicked back. His olive skin added to his already striking looks. The resemblance between him and his older sister, the late Queen Avina, was evident. Adler was twenty when Avina had moved to Albion to marry King Carver. Trev had sometimes wondered if Adler knew how much Avina’s stepson loved her. If Adler knew how Trev locked himself on the roof of the palace and cried for hours after her funeral.

  If Adler knew all that, would he still hate Albion so much?

  “Are you surprised to see me, Carver?” King Adler spoke with an edge of anger as he greeted him.

  “Not particularly.” King Carver’s brows furrowed. “We invited you to the wedding, and you accepted our invitation. We’ve been expecting you.”

  Adler laughed his answer off. “Was that before or after you tried to have me killed?”

  King Carver froze. “Excuse me?”

  “Enough with the games, Carver. You sent someone to my room at the Dawsey Inn the other night to have me killed. What did you do? Pay off the hotel staff?” Adler asked.

  Trev looked at his father, who seemed just as confused as he was. Trev was there when his father had written the note to call off the assassination. He had personally chosen the soldier sent to deliver the letter. The man had reported back that the message had been delivered. What had gone wrong?

  “I applaud your efforts. It was a seemingly good plan. Invite me to the wedding then use the element of surprise to get me when I would least expect it. The only problem with your plan was that you underestimated my men. And me.” Adler smiled smugly.

  “King Adler,” Carver shifted his weight nervously, “if there was an attempt on your life within our kingdom, I will do everything in my power to identify and punish the guilty. And we are, of course, deeply relieved that you escaped unharmed. But we had nothing to do with any attempt on your life.”

  Adler laughed. “Of course you would deny it.”

  “There are many people who could have done this. Why would we try to”—King Carver leaned in close so nobody could hear their conversation—“kill you? We are in the middle of a wedding.”

  “I wondered that same thing myself.” Adler lowered his icy gaze on King Carver. “But then again, you never planned on me surviving and showing up here to confront you. It’s like you want to start a war between our two kingdoms. First, you accuse me of kidnapping those girls by the border and now this.” He leaned in closer between Trev and his father, whispering so only they could hear. “If I were you, I’d play nice. There are rumors that I have sophisticated weapons back in Tolsten. I’m dying to try them out.”

  King Adler’s laugh was cruel and wicked, making the hairs on the back of Trev’s neck rise.

  “What did you do?” Trev asked an hour later as he paced the king’s office.

  “I didn’t do anything.” His father looked to Commander Pryer for help. “I called off the assassination. You both saw me.”

  Trev wanted to believe him. “Then explain to me why Adler is accusing us of attempted murder.”

  “I . . . I . . . honestly don’t know.” For the first time, his father seemed speechless.

  “He’s not just accusing us. He knew the details, how we were targeting him at the Dawsey Inn. How could he know that unless it was true? Unless one of our men tried to carry out the plan.” Commander Pryer swore under his breath. “This is a disaster! And now he’s here.” His arms flew into the air. “How can I protect Albion from Adler when he’s here?”

  Trev pointed at his father. “If I find out that you two are lying to me, that you two went behind my back on this plan, I swear I will—”

  “We didn’t,” his father said, interrupting him. “Something is wrong. Pryer, bring the man to me who was sent to deliver the letter. I want to question him personally. And find the men that were stationed at the hotel, the ones that were going to carry out the mission. I want to question them all.” His father was beginning to yell. “I want to know who attempted to kill Adler against my express orders!”

  Commander Pryer scrambled out of the room.

  Trev looked at his father in a severe way. “You promised, if I married Seran, you would call off the assassination. You gave me your word.”

  His father rubbed his hand on his face before raking it through his graying hair. He looked older today than he ever had before.

  “I didn’t do this.”

  Trev shook his head. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish with the wedding. Let me figure out how this happened.” The king’s voice sounded desperate.

  “You need to tell King Bryant about this. He needs to know.”

  “No, not yet.” His father shook his head.

  Trev threatened, “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

  “Just give me more time.” The pleading on his father’s face should have made him feel something, but it didn’t.

  “Tell him before dinner tonight, or I will.” Trev slammed the office door behind him as he left and walked down the hall. He turned the corner and nearly collided with Joniss.

  “Ezra!”

  “What do you want, Joniss?” How was the man so annoyingly everywhere?

  “Oh, nothing. I just arrived early for the dinner tonight. Is everything all right? Things seemed kind of tense with King Adler out in the courtyard.” Joniss seemed to be enjoying Trev’s distress.

  Trev masked his fear and kept walking. “You know King Adler; he can be difficult.”

  “I hope everything is okay,” Joniss called after him. “I would hate to have something ruin your wedding.”

  I’m sure you would.

  “Do you think your father is lying?” Drake asked. They stood in the corner of the great hall so they could talk freely. Around them, guests finished dinner, laughing and drinking, unaware of the political tension in the air.

  Trev took a drink. “I don’t know. He seems completely distraught by everything, but I can’t tell if that’s because he doesn’t know what’s going on or because he got caught.” He eyed King Adler cautiously. His fine, mint green suit stood out across the room, a cloud of smoke billowing around him as he puffed on a cigar. Cigars weren’t essential. They were illegal, but Adler had the audaci
ty to smoke one in front of all the other leaders in the room.

  “Does King Bryant know?” Drake asked.

  “Yes, my father told him just before dinner. He’s not happy about any of it.”

  Drake rubbed his chin. “But does he believe your father?”

  “He seems to.” Trev shrugged.

  Drake folded his arms across his chest. “So if King Carver didn’t do it, then who did? An informer?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but it doesn’t make sense.” Trev had gone over it in his mind a hundred times. “Spies or even an inside informer would know what we’re planning, and might give away our secrets, but they wouldn’t carry out our plans.”

  “True.” Drake nodded.

  “What about Joniss and his father? The idea to kill Adler originally came from Maxwell. Do you think they are trying to frame us to win the election?”

  “Possibly, but that seems risky. Wouldn’t they be worried about Adler coming after Joniss and Albion once he was king?”

  Trev scratched the back of his neck, trying to sort his thoughts out. “Maybe.”

  Drake lowered his voice even more. “What about Commander Pryer? He was the only one who knew that the assassination plan had been put together and then called off again. He was for the assassination, and I’m sure he didn’t like your father calling it off because of you.”

  “That’s what my gut is saying too, but my father would never hear it. They’ve been together for thirty years. Why would Pryer turn on us now?”

  Drake raised his shoulders. “Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing. He probably thought the mission would be successful, and King Adler would be dead. He could never have foreseen the plan not working and Adler showing up here like he did.”

  “You’re right.” Trev put his glass down on the table in front of him. “I need to go question Pryer.”

  Drake pulled his arm. “Let me do it. It would be best if you didn’t leave the party. It will look bad. Besides, Fenton Pryer doesn’t like you. We might get more information if I question him.”