Page 43 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“Father!” I cry again as I reach him, turning him around so I can see his face. But when I do, my attention falls on the dagger embedded into his chest.

The same dagger as the one I drove through Elaric.

“What happened?” I ask, though deep down I know the truth. “Who did this to you?”

His eyes flutter open. “You,” he wheezes. “You did this. To all of us.”

My fingers loosen from around his shoulder. I slump back onto my heels. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What did you think would happen when you murdered the king?” His voice is stronger than a dying man’s should be, as if rage fuels him with these last shreds of strength. “Without a named successor, every lord of any importance wants the throne for himself. This kingdom is tearing itself apart and the people are the ones who are suffering for it. For your mistakes.”

“I didn’t think...” I trail off. Just like with my sister, I have no excuses to offer. All I can opt for is silence.

“That’s the problem,” he snaps. “You don’t think. You just do as you wish, consequences be damned. How your actions affect others is of no concern to you, so long as you get what you want.”

“That’s not true,” I blurt, a lump swelling in my throat. His accusations hurt so very much, peeling back a painful layer to expose a truth I’ve no wish to face.

I have no way to defend myself. All I can do is sit there and let his words sink in, terrifying though they are.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I have made so many horrible mistakes. How can I undo what I have done?”

Father’s head lolls back. He falls still.

“No,” I rasp. “Father, wake up! Please wake up!”

He doesn’t.

Like Elaric, like Dalia, Father is gone.

I am alone in this world. Alone to watch this kingdom consume itself until it is nothing but ash.

Everything around me disappears, and I’m left in darkness.

I bring my knees to my chest and hug them, though it provides no comfort, and I cry until my eyes are dry and can’t shed a single tear more.

This is no more than I deserve.

To be alone. Forgotten.

My actions have led to so much death and destruction. It is better if I stay here. At least this way, I can’t cause harm—

“Adara?”

The voice echoes around me, and I can’t pinpoint where it comes from. Nor do I recognize to whom it belongs.

“Adara?” the voice says again.

I’m torn from the emptiness by a pair of strong hands.

My eyes flutter open to see Elaric staring down at me.

He doesn’t look angry like someone who was just murdered should be. Instead, he looks concerned.

Then I remember the purple fog. Falling into oblivion. The nightmare I just experienced was because of the poison. None of my visions were real, as much as they felt like it.

The relief I feel is so intense it hurts.

Elaric isn’t dead, and neither is my father. Dalia can still be saved, and Avella isn’t currently being torn apart by a civil war.

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