“I think—” Renna began to say until Trev interrupted her.
“I think Miss Degray already has plans for lunch.”
Tybolt shrunk a little in Trev’s presence. Sweat trickled from his forehead down into his beard. “I see.”
“My mother, however, would be thrilled to accompany you.” Renna smiled warmly at the queen, who didn’t know quite how to respond.
Recovering quickly, Queen Mariele said with a polite smile, “Certainly.”
Tybolt shuffled his massive body around several chairs, trying to exit. The queen took his offered arm. “Well then, thank you for a most agreeable morning,” he sputtered to Renna.
“Agreeable doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Renna smiled sweetly, and Trev laughed under his breath at her seemingly innocent remark.
Tybolt paused, looking confused, and then escorted the queen away.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Trev asked.
“Where’s Seran?” Renna said, glancing over his shoulder for the princess. “Don’t you need to spend time with her?”
Yes, he should be with Seran, but she was busy. “I asked her if she wanted to come with me, and she turned me down. She has a meeting with the dressmaker.” He shrugged. “Instead of canceling my plans, I thought I could take you.”
“Don’t you have more important things to do?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I had more important things to do. Do you want to come or not?”
She looked around them, likely checking to see who was watching or noticing them together.
“I guess it would be all right,” she finally answered.
“Trev! There you are.” The pair turned to see Drake coming their way. “Should we all walk to lunch together?” he asked, desperation infusing his tone. Undoubtedly, he thought it was a bad idea for Trev to be alone with Renna.
Probably because it was a bad idea.
But there was no harm in being around Renna, not out in public. Besides, Seran had said no. She’d probably be happy he’d taken Renna instead.
“Renna and I have other plans,” Trev replied.
“Other plans besides lunch?” Drake asked, not even trying to hide his irritation.
“Yes.” Before Drake could respond, Trev pulled Renna away. They walked side by side, though Trev kept his hands clasped behind his back in case he had a spontaneous urge to touch her. That seemed to keep happening.
“I hope you don’t feel like you have to plan something to keep me entertained. I know you were just trying to be nice by saving me from Tybolt, even if you were the one who stuck me with him in the first place. If you want, we can turn back to lunch.”
“Who says I was just being nice? I meant what I said. I have other plans for you.” He pointed to the training field lined with men. “Have you been over here yet?”
Renna shook her head.
“This is where all the soldiers train. It’s one of my favorite places on the palace grounds. Men working hard to learn and improve their skills for the good of their king and country.”
They walked past rows of young men lined up to receive instruction from their captains.
“Couldn’t these boys have come to the tournament today?”
“No, these boys didn’t have the afternoon off. Besides, a soldier never lets the appearance of peace dictate his work ethic.”
“The appearance of peace?” Renna raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think this is a peaceful time?”
“Things are never as peaceful as they seem.”
“Your country is not at war, and nobody is rioting against the crown. The king has aligned himself with New Hope. What more could you want?”
“I just don’t want to miss anything or trust the wrong person.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are rumors of Tolsten spies infiltrating Albion.” He probably shouldn’t tell Renna all this, but he couldn’t shake the urge to open up to her. “I feel this weight on my shoulders that I have to find the spies and what they want before they do something that I can’t control.”
“Maybe it’s just a rumor.” She shrugged.
“Tolsten has recently frustrated some of our military plans. Nothing big, but small things like building a military fortress on the same border location where Albion had plans to build. Things that could be dismissed as coincidence, but also could be something more.”
“So, how do you know who to trust?”
“I don’t trust anybody.” It was true; he didn’t trust anyone outside his circle of friends and family—and now, Renna.
She whirled around, smiling. “Maybe that boy is the spy.” She pointed to a young boy practicing hand-to-hand combat across the field. “Or that man, or that man, or that man!” Her finger moved from one person to the next.
Trev pushed her arm down. “The spy could be you.”
“Or you.” She smiled, raising a brow in the process.
Her playful expression made his stomach flip with butterflies. “Leave the spies to me. What you need to worry about right now is your aim.”
“My aim?”
Trev nodded at the shooting range, separated from the rest of the field by a fence. A young soldier working the desk bowed at Trev, handing him two small handguns. He turned to Renna. “Do you know how to shoot?” He started walking toward the line that faced the targets before she could answer.
Renna followed behind, trying to keep pace. “Of course not. It’s not like we had guns just laying around at Wellenbreck Farm. Only soldiers are allowed to have guns . . .” Her words trailed off as she watched him load bullets into the small, black weapon.
Trev finished his preparations and turned to face her, gun outstretched, waiting for her to take it.
She stared back at him, unsure.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
Renna shuffled her feet. “Oh, I don’t know. Hurting someone, hurting myself, failing, looking like a fool, embarrassing you, embarrassing myself, and possibly upsetting my mom.”
“Renna, I didn’t take you for a woman who cares what other people think.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Do you want to learn how to shoot a gun or not?”
She nodded her head up and down.
“Then try it and stop worrying about what other people think.”
Trev gently placed the gun in her hand and pointed to a small button on the left side above the handle. “This is the safety mechanism. Right now, the safety is on, so it won’t fire even if you pull the trigger. When you push that button, the safety will release, and the gun will be ready to fire. Leave the safety on until we’re ready to shoot.”
“Safety first,” she teased.
“Always,” he said.
“Wow, it’s really light.” She lifted her hand up and down to feel the weight.
“Yeah, it is. The Council approved gun technology upgrades to the ones they had before Desolation to be safer and more reliable. These are also quieter, so there’s no need for ear protection.”
She nodded as if everything he said was deeply important.
He spread his legs shoulder-width apart, putting his arms straight out in front of him, hands clasped together with the gun in between his fingers. “This is the position your body should be in when you’re ready to shoot.”