It’s definitely anxiety.
I’m about to face the woman who had my mother killed, who tried to marry me off to her illegitimate son in order to steal the Winter Court for herself.
My court, my family, fought the Autumn Court in the Autumn Revolt, and in doing so, they left a void that the Summer Queen sought to fill even though it’s clear that the courts being out of balance is no good for the realm.
It makes me angry that anyone would think they deserved more power than the other.
Someday I’ll have to reckon with the fact that my family thought the same thing as the Summer Queen.
Right now, I need to break the cycle. With Arion’s help.
We make our way up a rolling hill and at the very top, from the higher vantage point, it’s easier to see the spires of the Summer Palace in the distance.
My legs begin to buzz and the buzzing slowly rises through my entire body until my head is practically vibrating.
I drag my fingers through my hair, massaging the dull ache in my scalp and my fingers come away wet.
I panic at first, thinking it’s blood. “Bran.” I pull him to a stop, holding out my hand. But it’s just water.
“Your crown—” Bran starts right before I drop to my knees.
The knotting in my stomach intensifies and I double over in the grass.
The air is thick, soupier than last time. Like the humidity is at 100%.
“What’s happening?” Bran asks Arion as he kneels down beside me.
“Summer is happening,” Arion theorizes. “The queen must know we’re here.”
All around me, flowers sprout from the hillside. Buttercups and tulips and pansies and roses and foxgloves. It’s beautiful, but ahead of me, I hear Arion say, “Fuck. Everyone run!”
Without questioning, Bran hoists me up into his arms, cradling me against him. To my left, a bloom of foxglove swings around and nabs the closest fae, tying itself around him like a rope. With the bell-shaped flowers, it almost looks like the tentacle of an octopus.
The flower tightens around him and then drags him below ground.
Oh my god.
Diagonal from us, the thorny vines of a rose bush takes hold of a vampire and within seconds, the woman is just gone.
“Run!” Arion yells. “Run toward the river!”
Bran cuts right and using his vampire speed, makes quick work of the hillside.
But just as the forest edge comes into view, just as I make out the first rushing of the river, a length of ivy lunges for us.
And before I know it, we’re tied up tightly, the rising sun blotted out by dark leaves.
Episode One Hundred
THEY COULD ALWAYS GO FOR A BITE
Bran and I struggle against the ivy tied tightly around us, entombing us in a coffin of green. I’m mashed against his chest, the hard ridge of muscle like stone. Everything is hot and buzzing, and even though I can barely see beyond the foliage, my head is still spinning.
I don’t feel so well.
“Can’t you break it?” I ask Bran, but the words jumble together — I’m finding it hard to move at all, even to speak.
The ivy tightens like a coiled snake. My bones practically creak from the pressure.