“You’re just like your mother. Did she tell you how to entrap a prince? Did she tell you how you could someday become queen?” His tone mocked her.
Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. “Leave my mother out of this.”
“Yes, she’s much too fragile for a scandal like this.” He leaned in closer; Renna wasn’t sure how it was even possible. The scent of alcohol burned her nostrils. “Stay away from him,” he said, his voice dark and nasty. “He may believe he would’ve been happy with you. You may even believe it, too, but I know the truth. I know that you would’ve ruined his future. He will never become king with you by his side, and one day he would have resented you for it.” He released her hair, thrusting her head back into the door with a loud thud. It took all her strength not to rub the back of her scalp furiously.
“You’re an embarrassment.” His insult came with a touch of laughter.
A rogue tear dropped from her eye.
The king towered over her, sinking her back into the wall. She was sure his next words rumbled through the walls the way they rumbled through her.
“You are a liability.”
He flung open her door and slammed it behind him. She stared at the door for a moment, frozen in fear, but his words hung in the air. How could one sentence hurt so much? They were just words, after all.
Renna locked her bedroom door then walked across the room. She checked under the bed as if somehow the king could still be lurking in the shadows, tormenting her. She kicked off her shoes and reached for the zipper on the back of her dress but suddenly, she didn’t feel safe enough to be without the extra fabric. She didn’t feel safe anywhere. Her body folded into the soft bed and pillows. She pulled the blanket up over her head and let the sobs come freely.
33
Trev
The memory of the kiss with Seran tasted bland on Trev’s lips. There was no excitement. No heat. No longing. No tension. Those weren’t the feelings he wanted to feel. Even the delicious food at breakfast the next morning couldn’t get rid of the aftertaste of disappointment. But he’d made a deal with his father and couldn’t go back on it.
One hour ago, he had watched his father write the letter to call off the assassination, then watched him give it to the messenger, an officer that Trev had chosen. He watched the man drive away, finally satisfied that the plans were going to be stopped.
He had done the noble thing, but that didn’t prevent him from feeling depressed.
Renna appeared in front of him on the stairs, and his mood immediately lifted. Somehow everything seemed better when she was around. He couldn’t control his smile or the racing in his heart as he stopped to greet her in the middle of the giant staircase.
“You missed the fireworks last night.”
“I saw them.” Her words were clipped, full of an emotion he didn’t understand.
Her curtness took him by surprise. “Oh. I thought I saw you leave with Drake.”
He wanted to see the different shades of color in her green eyes, but she refused to look at him.
Something was wrong.
“I did leave the fireworks display.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest, finally letting her eyes rest on him. “But I saw the ones later that night.”
The coldness in her voice confused him. “What fireworks? I don’t understand.”
“You know, the ones between you and Seran in the royal living room.”
“What are you talking about?” Tension filled his shoulders as he furrowed his brow.
“Your kiss with Seran,” Renna clarified.
Heat rushed to his face in embarrassment. “You saw that?”
“I wasn’t spying. I just wanted to tell you something, but you were . . . busy.” A tight smile spread across her lips. “I didn’t want to interrupt your intimate moment.”
“It wasn’t an intimate moment.” Not to Trev, at least.
“It looked pretty intimate to me,” she said, hurt evident in her eyes. But then she looked up, the hurt replaced with a coldness that pierced Trev’s heart. “Anyways, I’m happy for you both.” She slipped past him and continued down the stairs.
“Renna?” He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.
“I’m really busy. I have to go.”
His fingers scraped through the curls at his forehead, pushing them back. “I’m trying here. I’m trying to be what everyone wants and needs. I’m trying to be with Seran. You know I have to be with her, but yet you accuse me like I’ve intentionally hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt,” she said with a smile that looked too big to be real. “Like I said, I’m happy for you.” She took the stairs two at a time, distancing herself from him.
How was it even possible that she made him feel everything?
Trev couldn’t help but think about how much he missed seeing the playful sparkle in her eyes. How he wanted to know what she thought about the fireworks show. How he was dying to find out how the grease had gotten on her forehead so he could tease her about it. How her skin glowed with a touch of yesterday’s sun. How the citrus of her scent would stay with him the rest of the day.
Why did his heart have to betray him so completely? Why couldn’t he just let her go?
34
Renna
“I don’t think you should do this, my lady. It will be social suicide.” Nora shook her head vigorously as she sat on the edge of Renna’s bed, looking at the drawing Renna had made of the strapless dress she saw in the magazine.
“But could you do it?” Renna asked.
“Make you a new dress?” Nora looked over at the already finished piece hanging in Renna’s closet, fresh from the palace seamstress. The blue gown was conservative and flowing—perfectly befitting of a young woman, or rather, what everyone said was befitting of a young woman.
But Renna didn’t want to fit in tonight.
“Yes.” She nodded at her maid.
“The ball is in twelve hours,” Nora said anxiously. “And this dress doesn’t exactly fit the modesty rules.”
“But can you do it?” Renna pressed.
Nora started shaking her head again.
“Please!” Renna begged. “I’ll even help, if you need me.”
Nora folded her hands in her lap. “Not until you tell me why you want to do this.”
Of course Nora would want to know why. Renna was asking her to do something risky. To do something that could get her fired.
Renna sat next to her on the bed, still towering over her even while sitting. She started speaking, the words coming out fast and full of condemnation. “We all pretend that the Council of Essentials, that the rulers, are making decisions based on what’s best for us, but they’re not. They only do what’s best for them. Working-class people are starving. They don’t even have the basic essentials in life, but the Council isn’t worried about that. No, they’re worried about rules! Why do a few people get to decide what everyone else can and can’t do? Huh? It’s stupid! I’m sick of them telling me who I have to be, how to behave, what I can wear, how much skin I can show, what color my clothes need to be. Before Desolation, women used to be in charge of things; they ran huge corporations, even countries. There hasn’t been a woman elected queen for more than one hundred years. The Council is slowly removing us. Women are inessential unless we are lucky enough to have the right connections.” She hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to reveal, but decided to continue anyway. “I’m sick of the Council telling me who I can or can’t love. I’m sick of arranged marriages and negotiations.” She looked at Nora. “When did we all lose so much control of our own lives?”