Page 4 of Heart of the Summer Queen

I bite my tongue to stop my lips from curling into a grin. It’ll be much easier to catch them off-guard if they believe me to be sick.

My maids will try to stop me, but neither has any combat experience. Yet I have little wish to fight them off, lest I hurt one of them. Throughout my time here in the palace, they’ve treated me with nothing but kindness.

If I escape from my room on their watch, the king will be furious. As much as I hate the possibility of them suffering his wrath in my absence, if I don’t escape then I’ll spend the rest of my days caged here. Besides, he can’t be too enraged when he chose not to inform them of the threat I pose.

My thoughts are interrupted as Kassia clicks her tongue. “Imagine that,” she mutters, “falling sick the day after your wedding. Our queen should be celebrating the joyous occasion over feasts, not cooped up in bed. It doesn’t bode well for their marriage.”

If only she knew the half of it.

“Kassia!” Elona scolds, though her tone is hushed. “You mustn’t say such things!”

Kassia mumbles an apology, and the two of them continue through my room.

Though they pushed the door shut behind them, I didn’t hear the lock click.

I pray it’s still open.

One of them heads over to the corner of the room to tidy my clothes, while the other paces to the bookshelf.

I dare to open an eye.

Kassia is by the bookshelf, examining them all and retrieving the ones marred by frost. She’s closer to the door and is faster than Elona, thanks to her long legs. But if I sprint hard, she won’t reach me in time. And if I wait for her to collect more books, she’ll have to set them down before chasing me. Between the surprise of me bolting from bed and her putting down the books, I’ll gain a few extra seconds.

I wait until Kassia takes more books, and when she has five, I make my move.

I shove aside my blankets and leap from my bed, taking three steps at a time. I run as fast as I can, bare feet slapping against the floor, and I’m at the doors by the time Elona shrieks. Kassia whirls around, books tumbling from her arms.

I don’t look back. My eyes stay on the doors.

My maids rush forth. I reach the doors and grab the handles and force them down, as I did hundreds of times last night, wishing that this time they will yield.

They do.

By the time my maids make it to the doors, I’m already halfway down the corridor.

They shout after me, but blood drums too loudly in my ears for me to hear.

I run so furiously that at the end of the corridor, I struggle to stop and skid across the floor. My feet burn. I ignore the pain and hurry down the next.

The Crystal Palace is a tangle of corridors and would be a maze to one unfamiliar with it, but I’ve traipsed these halls countless times. Without thinking, my mind maps a perfect route to the gardens.

Despite my haste, I consider whether I should slow and attempt some measure of stealth. My footsteps are so thunderous it’s a wonder the king hasn’t already heard me from his chambers, in the highest wing of the palace. But I’m racing against the time it takes for my maids to report my disappearance.

As I reach the lowest floor of the palace, I run into a patrol of guards. The hammering of my heart prevents me from hearing their footsteps until it’s too late.

“Your Majesty!” they exclaim, frowning in greater confusion than my maids. They glance at each other, unsure how to react. Unless the king has ordered them to keep watch and ensure I don’t leave the palace, they’ve no reason to arrest me. But if he hasn’t trusted my own maids with the truth of last night, it’s doubtful he’ll trust a patrol of guards. Even though they likely know nothing of my assassination attempt and I’m their queen, their loyalty is to their king. And right now, I’m running through the palace in my chemise, my erratic behavior enough to raise suspicion. Then again, this isn’t the first time they’ve seen such things.

Before they can decide what to do, I swivel around and run in the opposite direction, though it means taking a longer path to the gardens.

“Find the king!” a guard shouts.

Some chase me, while others head upstairs.

Fantastic. As soon as the guards reach the king, he’ll come looking for me. If he finds me, my escape plan is sure to fail. While I might fight off or slip past a patrol of guards, the same cannot be said for the king. Not with his magic.

How long will it take for the guards to reach him? Will I have time to break into the gardens and scale the wall?

It’s doubtful, but I don’t let this deter me.

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