Page 7 of Heart of the Summer Queen

I shove my knee at his groin. He evades the blow and straddles me, preventing me from kicking again.

I raise my head but he’s too far away for me to head butt. With a growl, I slam my head back down, not caring that it hurts.

I’ve failed at everything. My assassination attempt. My escape plan. Why must he defeat me in everything I try?

I hate him, and I hate even more how close he is right now. This position brings back memories of last night. Memories I don’t want to relive.

Not now. Not ever.

I force myself to meet his eyes.

I’ve never seen such a thunderous expression on the Winter King’s usually emotionless face.

It’s hard not to laugh. What does he have to be furious about? That his prisoner tried to escape?

He stands. And before I can so much as twitch a finger, he grabs my waist and hauls me over his shoulder, carrying me back toward the palace.

“I hate you!” I cry, slamming my fists against his back. But it doesn’t stop him and just hurts my fists.

I drop my hands and scowl at the wall which grows smaller as he marches toward the palace.

The king descends the steps at the end of the gardens and heads through the small servants’ door.

He carries me all the way to my chambers, where we find Elona and Kassia pacing around. As we enter, they drop to a deep curtsey.

“Your majesties,” they say together.

He continues past them and deposits me unceremoniously at the center of my bed, as he did last night when I tried to stab him. I scowl at him, and he glares back.

Then he turns to my maids. “You are no longer required here.”

Their brows furrow.

“You are unassigned from the queen for the foreseeable future,” he says, “and will return to help the other servants in their duties around the palace.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they both reply.

“Leave us.”

They do so without question and hurry out the room.

Then it’s just the king and me.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer. “Try to rest, Adara.”

With that, he too leaves, locking the doors behind him. The resulting click rumbles through my chamber, echoes throughmy heart. I don’t bother scrambling up and trying to tear them aside. I know by now that it is a foolish endeavor.

There’s no escape.

Gripping my furs, I stare at the doors. Not only has the Winter King stolen my freedom, but now my maids too.

three

Day and night blur into one. True to the king’s word, Elona and Kassia don’t return to my chambers. Instead, he assigns a new maid to serve me: a stern-faced woman with gray peppering her otherwise dark hair. Merlys, I think Elona said she was called. I’ve never spoken to her directly, and I’m not sure I’ve heard her speak before, and that doesn’t change even when she visits my chambers day after day. It isn’t surprising the king chose her. I can’t imagine Merlys gossiping to anyone about my imprisonment.

No further opportunity to escape arises. The king has learned from his previous mistake and is always present whenever Merlys enters, standing guard by the doors like a ruthless jailor.

They appear twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, and their visits are always in silence. When Merlys wipes my face and shoulders with a wet cloth, I long to ask her if Elona and Kassia are well, if they have suffered the king’s wrath for my near escape. But I dare not ask. Not with him always within earshot. If he hears my concerns for their wellbeing, he may choose to worsen their suffering. All I can imagine isthe two of them locked in the dungeons beneath the palace, clutching each other as frost consumes their flesh.

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