Page 24 of Heart of the Summer Queen

That single word hits my stomach like a lead weight.

When I don’t reply, he turns back to me and scans across my face. “This is what you also wish, is it not?”

“I...” My mouth clamps shut. Of course having our marriage annulled is what I want. The reason I married him was to drive a dagger through his chest on our wedding night. It would be rational for us to discard our marriage.

And yet, I hesitate.

If I tell him I don’t wish for our marriage to be annulled, we’ll remain married forever, and forever is such a very long time, especially when I’m unsure if a life as Queen—as his wife—is what I want. Besides, he’s the one who has asked this question, completely unprompted. Clearly this is what he wishes for himself. To be free of his would-be assassin. And I can’t say I blame him. After what I did, I don’t deserve his trust or loyalty or any part of his heart.

For us both, I force myself to say, “Yes. Yes, that is what I want. We should annul our marriage.”

To erase it as if it never happened...

“Very well,” the king says.

I do my best to read his expression, but his thoughts are masked too well, and I can’t tell whether he is pleased or disappointed by my reply. But regardless of his real thoughts, he accepts my answer so readily, and the deep ache within me almost causes me to blurt out the truth: That my feelings for him are so complicated and confusing, and I do not know what I really want.

“I shall order it to be done,” he declares.

Forcing out a verbal response is impossible, so I simply dip my head in acknowledgement. And then, like the coward I am, I run.

nine

Tears prick my eyes and blur my vision. I grit my teeth and force them not to fall, especially as I pass servants going about their business.

Annulling our marriage is what I should want, and yet it feels as if my heart is being cleaved in two. A part of me wants to whirl around and march back into Elaric’s room and tell him I want to remain married to him, that his lips and fingers tracing across my body is all I can think about day and night, but the other part of me wishes to run as far as I can.

I’m terrified about what would happen if I told him the truth, how I wish more than anything that I hadn’t been so blinded by my anger. What if he says he’ll never forgive me, even if I break his curse, even if I spend every day repenting for my sins? What if I’ve destroyed all possibility of a future between us?

Before he brought up annulling our marriage, I intended to return to the library and resume my search for information on his curse. But now I’m in no state to concentrate, and I’m certain the paragraphs would merge together if I tried to read. That’s why I return to my chambers instead of the library.

When I arrive, the doors are already ajar. Looking through, I see both Kassia and Elona rushing around, making my bed and straightening my belongings. Kind though they both are, all I want is to be alone with my messy thoughts.

I turn, but it’s already too late. Kassia has spotted me.

“Milady,” she calls, stepping toward me, “where are you going?”

“The library,” I say quickly. Hopefully, there won’t be any other servants in the library, and even if there are, I’ll find a shadowy corner to sit in and hide my face with a book.

“Have you eaten anything this morning?” Elona asks, draping a blanket across my bed.

“Er, no,” I say, angling away my face so Kassia can’t see. But she notices anyway and catches my arm before I can flee.

“What’s wrong?” Kassia asks, brows furrowing as she inspects me. “Why are you crying?”

At this, Elona leaves my bed and hurries over. She examines me as carefully as Kassia does, and then their gentle concern causes fresh tears to fall.

The two of them guide me into my chambers and sit me down on my bed, and I offer little resistance, following their movements as easily as if I were a puppet.

“What happened?” Kassia asks once we’re sitting down. Perhaps for the fifth time or sixth. I’ve lost count.

“The king,” I force out, though talking feels impossible. “I went to speak to the king.”

Kassia hesitates, regarding me carefully. “What did you speak to him about? Did you ask about his curse?”

“I tried,” I say. These words are easier to form. They distract me from the reason for my pain. “He couldn’t tell me he’s cursed, but it’s as Elona said: the magic prevents him from doing so. I found a book in the library this morning which explains howthose afflicted by a curse can’t reveal its existence. They can’t even write anything about it.”

“Is this why you’re upset?” Elona presses gently.

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