Page 72 of My Summer Girl

I shake my head, thinking of a realm I’ve only heard of and never experienced myself. “No, I have no clue of its origins.”

Mira makes a face and shrugs, then she guides me to the other farms. With each discussion, confidence blossoms inside, and we continue the routine of going all out, being spontaneous. Making plans unstructured and chaotic.

After they’ve decided their fruits, they proceed with the prepping stage. Tonight will be a testing of each one and whichever the majority likes, we’ll go with that. While they’re starting that, Mira guides me to the fields.

Letting out a troubled sigh, I note the field that used to bloom with flowers of all colors. They were vibrant, colorful, complete with hope.

Now, all that exists is a green plain—flowerless, budless, almost like each petal got ripped from every sprout.

Disheartened, I intend to sidestep Mira, avoiding my failings as the queen. It’s the one thing that’s been hurting me for years. We haven’t had a pollination in so long and I can’t seem to bring them back.

Her hand clasps my arm, my thorns barely noticing that she isn’t a threat. She’s fortunate, for sure. Especially after that run-in with Vex. Who I’ve masterfully avoided for the last two days. “I think you should stay.”

As her words come out, Vex reveals themself from somewhere behind us. “Thought I’d join your little disappearing act.”

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at their lame attempt at humor. “So funny,” I drawl, liking the way their eyes crinkle at the corners. Their amusement fuels this tiny bond between us, sharing it with warmth.

They may be new to me—an enigma—but I can admit they intrigue me. Then there’s this little tie that now tethers them to me. “What I was going to say?” Mira interrupts our moment. Is it flirting or light teasing, and why do I want it to be both? That’s the bond talking. “Look.”

Her eyes go in front of us a couple yards away. My heart hammers before my eyes connect with it.

It’s yellow.

It’s full of petals.

It’s... a single bloom.

“Is that a sunflower?” Vex asks, sidling beside me. Their hand reaches for my arm and then pulls away like they know it’s inappropriate and what it’s capable of. Does what we share draw them near? To want to touch me?

“It’s a solena,” I remark, wondering about the last time I saw one. “Sunflowers are a human flower, we don’t get those specific ones here,” I clarify.

“What’s a solena then?” they implore, their lavender gaze wondrous and deeply interested. It’s not that false kind that comes with wanting to please someone but more of a scholarly kind, like they are interested in information they’re not privy to.

“It’s a flower that pollinates Solera once a year,” I nearly cry, my voice wobbling at what this means. My chin quivers, little spasms attacking me as I fight off the urge to completely fall apart. There’s a trembling inside me, it’s massive and unfixable. Something is different this time.

My eyes don’t leave the little sprout. It’s so small and fragile, and I want to protect it.

They sidestep my view, hands paused as if they’re holding back from comforting me. Biting their bottom lip, they say nothing but their eyes penetrate me.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?” The sincerity in both their voice and expression softens me a little. My bunched-up shoulders sag as if I don’t have to carry the weight of the realm at this very moment.

They’ll be here for me.

“It wasn’t you,” I assure, wanting nothing more than to erase the frown lines from their perfectly plump lips. “It’s a flower our realm hasn’t seen in at least a century.” My words are so gentle, as if being loud would wilt the flower, destroying the only ounce of hope I’ve had in ages. “Once a year, we’d have what we call a pollination. It fosters food, homes, babies, and abundance for all living things.”

Letting out a sigh, tears slip free down my cheeks. Something pulls sweetly in my chest and I’m not sure if it’s hope or something deeper.

Vex’s finger tilts my chin, their skin warm and, for some reason, I expected it to be cold, or at the very least, cooler. Their eyes meet mine as I blink back the emotions overtaking me. “Did you want to go over there?” they ask in such a soft tone, pointing at the flower. It’s like they’re worried about me and wanting to fix what ails me. It’s new. No one ever wants to take care of me. I shakily nod, wanting to connect with Solera, to tell her I’m so honored and grateful.

I’ll do anything she wants.

Anything.

Vex interlinks our hands, a charge of some sort racing through me at the tenderness. Being affectionate is something I seldom offer to anyone. Raevar is the exception but somehow, Vex is taking their piece of me in kind.

Our fingers squeeze as if we both feel something we don’t acknowledge but offer that simple comfort. They let out a breath and guide my shaky form toward the flower.

It’s only one, but it’s so precious and gentle, an offering.