Page 112 of Heart of the Summer Queen

There’s little we can do as the guards surround us and grab our arms. I thrash out, frantically trying to pry myself free, but they clutch me tighter.

I meet Elaric’s gaze, noticing the worry in his eyes. His rigid posture. Yet unlike me, he doesn’t struggle in their grasp. It seems he recognizes the futility of our situation.

But I refuse to surrender. All I can think of is returning home, reuniting with Dalia. And these damned guards are standing in the way of that.

Despite my efforts to fend them off, they grip my arms so firmly behind my back I can’t move even an inch.

With their hold on us secured, the guard captain turns to the rest of his men and declares, “Take them to the castle.”

forty-one

The guards lead us out the city and up the steep road carved into the castle’s cliffs, the streets vanishing below. We mostly walk in silence, aside from my attempts to demand an explanation for our arrest. Though I ask multiple times, none of the guards responds.

In the end, I opt to keep my mouth clamped shut, not bothering to waste any more breath. It’s clear they’re unwilling to yield, no matter how frequently I ask or how carefully I phrase my questions.

Since they’re taking us to the castle, the king must wish to speak to us. I can only hope we’re being summoned for an audience in his halls rather than in his dungeons. If he lets us first explain everything, maybe he’ll believe the truth: that we have liberated Eruweth from Isidore’s curse.

Then again, I’m not sure how well he’ll take the news of three hundred years having passed. I doubt anyone has yet realized this, and unless we inform them, they likely won’t know for weeks since Eruweth is so isolated from the rest of the world.

Perhaps it’s best not to lead with this, lest it overshadow everything else we say. It is, after all, difficult to believe. Not so long ago, I too would have been dubious such a thing could be true. It’s strange to think how I’ve grown accustomed to the extraordinary during these past few months.

The path to the castle is as long as it is steep. The higher we climb, the farther the castle seems. By the time we’re halfway up, agony already scorches through my legs.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to walk and ignore the pain as best I can.

Though resolve blooms in my chest, ascending these cliffs in my current fatigued state is near impossible. The sun has mostly risen from the horizon by now and its rays brush over me. They aren’t even blisteringly hot, but sweat drips down my neck in rivulets.

With each stride, my legs grow sorer and stiffer. Until at long last, they cease to function.

If not for the guards’ iron grip on me, my knees would give way, and I would collapse onto the gravelly road. Thanks to them, I’m kept suspended on the spot, unable to take another step forward.

“Keep moving,” the captain hisses.

Shame brands itself across my cheeks. I urge my feet to move but they only manage half a step.

All in one day, I have battled a sea serpent, slain a witch, and almost lost the man I love. It seems my body is finally yielding to the claws of exhaustion tearing through me.

“Are you blind?” Elaric growls. “Can you not see she is too exhausted to walk?”

“We mustn’t keep the king waiting,” the captain snaps back.

The glacial fury in Elaric’s glare is so cold it burns. “Then I will carry her,” he seethes.

The captain flinches but meets his stare. “You will not.”

Elaric edges toward me, but the guards block his path. Those escorting him grip him tighter.

“If she can’t walk,” the captain says, “then my men will carry her.”

Mortifying as it would be for Elaric to carry me, at least he’s my husband. I will not let a stranger haul me onto their shoulder, march me into the castle, and set me down before the king like an oversized bag of grain.

No. I am the Queen of Avella, and no matter how much my legs protest, I will walk into that throne room with my head held high.

I just need to tackle the rest of the road, step into the castle and talk to the king. Then I can collapse and succumb to sleep, granting my body the rest it desires.

I can do this.

Before any guards can lift me, I tip my chin upward. “I can walk perfectly well on my own, thank you.”

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