“I’m scared too,” Trev admitted. “But we’re doing everything we can to find them.”
A tall man spoke up. He was balding, hanging on to his last pieces of hair, spreading them across his scalp like sprawled out fingers. “What’dya think Tolsten meant by it? Kidnapping our girls like that. Do they want war?”
Concerned murmurs rippled through the crowd of villagers.
“I want to promise that Tolsten can’t hurt you, but I can’t do that. Your village knows how relentless Tolsten can be. You had to live through their invasion a few weeks ago. You had to see your young girls dragged away.”
Trev’s eyes swept across the people listening intently to his voice, hanging on every last word. From the bottom of his heart, he wanted to help them, to find their daughters, to give them hope of a better future. “What I can promise is that you won’t be alone. Our soldiers will stay here and help protect you while we get things straightened out so you can have your land and your homes back. I can also promise we are doing everything in our power back at the palace to keep the peace between Tolsten and Albion so that this doesn’t end in a war.”
“What about the election? Your father is out in a couple of months,” a young man shouted from the crowd.
“Yeah! Who will protect us then?” another man stepped forward.
This was the perfect moment to make an election pitch, to say something energizing like, Rah, rah! Vote for me! That’s what his father would do, what his father would want Trev to do. But that’s not what these people needed. They needed something they could hold on to and believe in. They needed confidence in their government and the Council of Essentials.
“Axville matters to me. Your families, your jobs, your lives all matter to me. As long as I have a say, your village will be protected,” Trev replied.
“You have our vote, my lord!” the crowd cheered.
“Don’t worry about that right now.” Trev didn’t want this visit to be anything about the campaign. He truly was concerned about the welfare of these people. “We have set up a tent with supplies. Please visit the officers over there for anything that you may need. If we don’t have something, let them know. I’m sure we can send for more supplies if necessary.”
He spent the afternoon among the people. Trev and his men helped rebuild parts of homes and barns that had been damaged by Tolsten soldiers. It felt good to work, to get his hands dirty, to think of others before himself. When he laid his head down later that night, his body tired from heavy labor, he was sure he would fall right to sleep, but rest wouldn’t come, not with thoughts of Renna filling his head.
The weight of his marriage and his future were like a ton of bricks on his chest. He rolled to his side, trying to ease the suffocating feeling, but nothing worked. When he had promised Seran he would let go of Renna, he’d meant it. But the inescapable ache inside his heart made Trev wonder if he had what it took.
Forgetting her should have been easier than this.
40
Renna
Renna sat with Seran’s friends in the dressmaker’s room, waiting for Seran to appear in her wedding gown. Fluffy pink couches had been brought in and positioned in a semi-circle around the long mirror. In front of the sofas, trays of food had been laid out for the women to snack on.
“Oh, this is so much fun!” Lizanne’s excitement bubbled out of her like an overdrawn bath. “I can’t wait to see Seran’s dress. I know it’s going to be exquisite.”
Jenica plopped a strawberry in her mouth but still managed to get an insult out. “Would you calm down? It’s not your wedding.”
Lizanne’s voice was timid. “I know. I’m just happy for my friend.”
Renna gave Lizanne an encouraging smile, admiring how Lizanne’s beautiful red hair stood out against her pale skin.
Sheridan leaned forward, taking some grapes. “Did you know they had the fabric for her dress brought in from the kingdom of Cristole?”
“We were all there when she told us that,” Jenica sneered.
Queen Mariele popped her head around the curtain. “Okay, ladies. Are you ready for the big reveal?”
There was genuine excitement in her mother’s voice—something that had never been present for Renna. It was strange watching her mother act like that for someone else. The curtains were pulled aside, and Seran gracefully stepped in front of them.
The room of women, including Renna, all gasped in unison. Seran looked beautiful in her simple, yet elegant wedding gown. White silk hugged her body, coming up high to the base of her neck then squaring off across her collarbone and shoulders. Billowing sleeves ended just below her elbows. Her tiny waist was accentuated as if it had been cinched together by the dress itself. Silk fabric fell straight to the floor barely above her toes in front, but in the back, it trailed long behind her. Pearls and crystals lined the edges of the dress in a classic way. Seran’s black hair was slicked back at her forehead, the veil resting on top. The rest of her glossy, straight hair rested neatly around her shoulders and chest, the coal-black contrasting perfectly against the white dress.
Renna always thought it was odd that a culture that attached so much emphasis and prestige to color would choose to wear a white wedding dress. It was one of the pre-Desolation traditions that had stuck all these years later.
Her friends jumped to their feet, gathering around her, gushing over every detail. Renna slowly followed behind. She stared with admiration at Seran until her mother caught her eye. There was the pity look again. Renna put on her best smile to reassure her mother. She didn’t want to ruin this moment for her mother or Seran.
“You look stunning,” Renna said from the back of the crowd.
Seran glanced at Renna, a timid look in her eyes. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
Why was Seran asking her?
“How could he not?”
It was true. How could Trev not think she was the most beautiful woman alive when she walked down the aisle toward him? The thought of that moment flashing through her mind made Renna realize something; she didn’t want to be there. There was no need for her to be at the wedding—no need for her to see how the story would end. Her father had told her enough fairy tales for her to know that they would live happily ever after. At this point, she was only a distraction—a hurdle in the way of Seran’s happily-ever-after.
The luncheon was cleaned up. The dress taken off. The room cleared out, except for Renna. She remained on the fluffy couch, planning her future.
“There you are. I thought you had gone to your room.” Her mother walked toward the couch, sitting on the edge next to Renna. They had fallen into a polite routine since the night of the ball. They hadn’t spoken of the kiss or any of the other problems between them, but here her mother was. She had come back for her. That was more than Trev had done.
Renna stared at Queen Mariele, the woman who had held so many secrets and heartaches for years. Renna used to pray that her mother would let her guard down. Pray that she could understand what was going on in her mind. Now she did. She was more like her mother than she had ever thought. Mariele was the one person who could understand her pain. The one person who knew what it was like to love a prince and give him up. The realization flooded her with heavy emotion. Her nose tingled as her eyes welled up with tears.