Page 17 of Heart of the Summer Queen

She presses her lips together. “True love? It must be, since he’s always sought a queen, and it’s usually true love’s kiss in fairy tales.”

“If the king really is cursed,” I reply, “true love’s kiss can’t be the cure.”

“Why not?” she says.

“We’ve already kissed each other.” I look at the floor. “Enough times.”

“Maybe it didn’t work because you were plotting to kill him,” Kassia says. “Maybe you need to kiss him when you aren’t intending to drive a knife through his chest?”

I agree that true love can’t exist when a murderous heart is involved, but her solution sounds so simplistic, and I doubt kissing the king now will break his curse.

I sigh. “What about the curse’s origin? Does anyone know how it began?”

Kassia shakes her head.

“I’m not certain either,” Elona admits. “The king shares little with us of his past, and few others know of the contents of that room, and I’ve heard no one except Kassia mention a curse. The only whispers I’ve heard are from those who believe the king sacrifices his brides to maintain his power.”

My shoulders sink, though I didn’t expect them to know. The king has reigned over three centuries, and anyone here before his curse would be long dead.

“Have you asked the king?” Kassia says.

“I’ve asked why he needs a Summer Queen, but he never explains, not even tonight.”

“It’s strange he still won’t tell you.” Kassia frowns. “He didn’t want you to know what lay in that chamber because he believed you’d never forgive him. Now that you know, what reason does he have to keep it from you?”

“Unless he’s bound by magic?” Elona suggests. “And is physically unable to tell you anything?”

“That would explain why he still keeps me in the dark,” I muse. “But if I can’t get the truth about his curse from him, where do I start?”

“The library,” Kassia blurts. “It has books on magic. I saw some once while tidying there.”

I nod slowly. I don’t remember such books, but on all past visits Elona and Kassia have accompanied me. Nor was I actively searching for information on curses. Maybe now I have a specific objective and am not forced to search discreetly, it will be easier to find what I seek. “The library it is.”

six

Though I long to return to the library, my maids persuade me to rest first. After the exhaustion of tonight, I reluctantly agree. My dreams are haunted by Dalia’s face, the ice shrouding her features thawing and color returning to her cheeks.

I wake at dawn and waste no time before slipping from bed, donning a fur coat, and hurrying out. I encounter no one on my way and soon reach the stone building which houses the library.

Unlike the palace, the library is free of frost, though flakes scatter across the tiles as I step inside. Shutting the heavy door against the howling wind proves a struggle.

The windows in here are few, and only faint slithers of moonlight filter through. My eyes adjust slowly to the shadows, but I know the room well enough to find matches and a candle at the old oaken desk by the door.

I take them to the nearest window to see more easily, lighting the candle and placing a glass cover over the dancing amber flame. Stepping back, I survey the rest of the library.

The shelves overflow with aged tomes, their well-worn wood having stood the test of time. I start with the nearest, scanningacross it. The books are arranged by author, with no regard for content, complicating my search.

It takes half an hour to find some potentially useful volumes. I carry them to the desk and sink into the cushioned chair, turning the crusty parchment pages.

The first proves unhelpful, containing unrelated myths. Fortunately, the second book offers insight.

The title page bears the blotchy inscription ‘The Lost Art of Magic.’ It discusses the nature of magic and how it exists in water and air, along with every leaf and flower, person, and beast. Magic is divided into ten different aspects of nature:fire, ice, lightning, wood, wind, earth, water, light, shadow, and mind. An individual attuned to magic will possess an affinity for just one of these.

I turn the page and read as it explains how each type is used, concentrating on ice and fire. Frost magic can freeze objects, while fire burns all in its wake. The only additional detail I glean is that those who possess fire can withstand burning, while those possessing ice can endure freezing. Before this, I wondered if I had fire magic as the Summer Queen, but it’s ice I am immune to. Not fire.

I rub my tired, dry eyes and reach for the next book, when a passage catches my notice.

Attunement to magic runs in bloodlines,with family members often sharing the same affinity, although not every descendant will inherit the gift. It is also rare for magic to pass down male lines, and it is for this very reason that witches are almost exclusively female.

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