Page 127 of The Promised Prince
For months, he had been looking for these girls, worrying that they had been killed. Trev had felt helpless and defeated. Now, they were standing in front of him, crying and hugging each other. He’d finally found them.
“Why kidnap innocent girls?” Drake asked, still pointing his gun at them. “Were you trying to start a war with Tolsten?”
“Why would I want to start a war with Tolsten?” Joniss spat.
“You tell us,” Trev said. He pressed the barrel of the gun deeper into Joniss’s neck, making him wince. “You’re the one who tried to assassinate King Adler.”
“You both think you’re so smart.” Joniss laughed. “You think you have it all figured out.”
“Don’t we?” Drake raised an eyebrow.
“Hardly,” Joniss muttered. “I didn’t try to kill Adler. I was working with him. Up until the time he double-crossed me.”
Drake and Trev exchanged glances.
“Adler was supposed to killyouat the wedding.” Joniss looked right at Trev. “And if he had followed the plan, I would be returning these girls to Axville and would look like a hero right now. The crown would have been mine. Instead, Adler took matters into his own hands and killed Seran.”
Trev felt like he’d been hit with a bullet again. He was supposed to die. Not Seran. Guilt emerged like a companion—reliable and constant.
“We can work together, Ezra,” Joniss said. “If you spare me, I can work for you. Gather information about Tolsten from King Adler. We can get revenge for Seran’s death.”
Trev gave a rough laugh. “I’m not interested in revenge. But I am interested in justice. Joniss Doman, you’re under arrest and will be tried before the king and high rulers for kidnapping, attempted murder, and treason against the kingdom of Albion.”
57
Renna
Snow flurries floated to the ground outside, dusting over the fields and trees. That was about as much snow as Wellenbreck ever got, but Renna made the most of the small winter magic. She pulled out an old blanket Nellie had made years ago. The seams were opening in places, and some of the stuffing was coming out where the blanket had been snagged on something sharp. She sank into her father’s favorite chair, the one that had been worn into the shape of him, and read from her favorite book of fairytales.
Renna had only been back at Wellenbreck Farm one week. After Seran’s funeral, it felt wrong to leave the Government Center so soon, so she’d stayed for a few weeks, helping her mother and King Bryant adjust to the loss and their new normal without Seran.
Nellie, Preetis, and Mangum talked about winter preparations and what crops they might want to try next spring while Renna stared blankly at her book.
Remorse and guilt hung in the back of Renna’s mind, awakening at night when her head hit the pillow—when there was nothing to think about but Trev and Seran. Her mind always drifted to the last conversation she’d had with Seran. That conversation would forever haunt her. The last words they’d spoken to each other were about Renna’s feelings for Trev—feelings she never should have had. They should have been talking about Seran, her wedding, her future. That’s what a good sister would have done.
“I think I’ll go take a bath,” Renna said, throwing the book to the side.
“That’s a fine idea, child.” Nellie nodded. “I’m just going to soak some beans for tomorrow’s soup. Then we’ll go to bed too.”
Renna started to climb the stairs to her room, then remembered she still had her apron on. She turned back around to go hang it up in the pantry. She’d be sorry at breakfast if it wasn’t there.
Nellie’s usually loud voice was lowered into a hushed whisper, slowing Renna’s steps. “All I’m saying is it’s been almost three months. What’s taking the man so long? Why hasn’t he sent even a letter to the poor child?”
Mangum whispered back, “I’m sure he’s under a lot of pressure. From the fallout of the wedding to the election, he’s had a lot going on. Not to mention everything with Tolsten.”
“I just thought he would have reached out to her by now. Are you sure he loved her?” Nellie asked.
“I thought so, but maybe I was wrong.” Mangum paused before admitting, “I thought he would have come for her by now too.”
Renna pulled her hands to her chest, hoping it would somehow make her heart feel better.
“Well then, he’s a fool!” Nellie spat.
Renna tiptoed back to the stairs. The apron could wait.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who thought Trev would’ve written by now.
She was pathetic.
