Page 13 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“Even if you couldn’t bring me into this room, you were both there when my sister was chosen three years ago. You knew she was frozen and never told me.”

“We were not permitted to say,” Elona says, her voice stronger now. She meets my gaze, her hazel eyes hardening.

Reasonably speaking, I know I shouldn’t be too furious with my maids. They’re loyal to the king. He’s the one who pays them enough to keep them and their families alive. They only care for me because he ordered them to do so. Though it’s a perfectly rational explanation, it doesn’t lessen the ache within.

“Come now, Your Majesty,” Kassia says. “Your sister wouldn’t want you to waste away like this.”

The softness of her words and the truth within them somewhat abates my wrath. She’s right. Dalia wouldn’t want me kneeling here after starving myself for days. It would hurt her, just asmuch as it would if she knew I’d married her murderer to avenge her.

Regret hits me like an avalanche.

How she would hate me for treating my life so recklessly. Holding her hand, seeing her face, makes the echo of her words deafeningly loud. All she would want is for me to be safe and well and happy. Not drowning in the misery I’ve brought upon myself.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a way to save her. But right now, I’m in no state to think clearly.

I release my sister’s hand and stand, surprising my maids. I lean over and kiss her brow, pledging a silent promise to free her.

Then I retrieve the flickering torch which the king left on the floor and follow my maids. Since Kassia also bears a torch, more of the room is illuminated as we leave, allowing me to see farther into the shadows. We pass countless statues, as many as I feared I’d find. It seems all three hundred discarded brides reside within this chamber.

We reach the exit, and my maids shut the doors behind us. I force myself not to look back. If I do, I fear I’ll never be able to leave Dalia’s side.

As we walk through the palace back to my room, I keep my restless thoughts to myself. Neither Kassia nor Elona say anything, but their guilt is so loud it bounces off the crystalline walls.

My shoulders sag in relief when we reach my chambers, grateful for the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts. To rest.

But my relief is short-lived.

My maids push open the doors, and there I see him—the Winter King—sitting on my bed.

five

The Winter King looks up as we approach, his bright eyes immediately finding me.

I stop in the doorway, fists tightening. Though I thought I had no energy left to be furious, seeing his face banishes the fog of exhaustion, allowing all my anger to bubble to the surface.

Betrayal lances through me. The king ordered my maids to find me and persuade me to return to my chambers. I can forgive them for their involvement with Dalia’s disappearance and hiding the truth from me, but it’s hard to forgive them again. Still, with all my hatred directed at the king, I have little to spare for anyone else.

“Adara,” he says.

I just stay there in the doorway, unmoving.

He reaches for the frozen bowl of stew sitting beside my bed and holds it out to my maids. Elona rushes to collect it from him. “The queen hasn’t eaten in days. There was still some stew left when I collected this earlier. It will need heating and a fresh bowl to be brought up.”

Elona nods. “At once, Your Majesty.”

My maids leave with the bowl, maneuvering around me.

The silence that follows is suffocating, filled with so many unspoken words and emotions.

The king stares at his hands before speaking. “Adara, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry won’t bring my sister back,” I grind out, unwilling to hear his pitiful excuses.

He flinches at my sharp tone. “I understand you might hate me.”

“Might?” I growl.

“I never intended to hurt you or Dalia or anyone—”

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