Page 76 of Heart of the Summer Queen

The barkeep’s words prove true, and two heaping plates arrive shortly. I turn ravenous at the smell of warm food and can’t eat quickly enough. Perhaps Elaric was right that bat wings don’t qualify as an adequate meal, especially not when one has had little else all day.

The pork served on my plate is also much more succulent and less bony than Belinda’s bat wings. The potatoes are fluffy, and while the carrots are a little harder than I usually prefer, I eat every single one of them, along with everything else on my plate.

By the time I finish, Elaric has barely touched his food. He’s left half his meat and three potatoes.

“Are you still hungry?” he asks, noticing my staring at his plate.

I quickly shake my head. “No, not at all.”

“Liar,” he says. “You’re drooling over my food.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you certain? There’s a spot right here.” He traces one finger down from the corner of his mouth.

The gesture is so unlike him I can’t help from bursting into laughter. I wonder at the reason for his light mood. Is it because of being here, in this warm tavern, surrounded by so many others? Or is it because of the Irremisa suppressing his magic, alleviating the weight of his curse from his shoulders?

He lowers his cutlery and pushes his plate across the table. “Here, you finish it.”

I nudge the plate toward him. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, pushing it back to me.

“It’s your food,” I say.

“I have no need for food.”

“I’m already full.”

He casts me an incredulous look. “Very well. I shall ask someone to collect both of our plates.”

“Wait,” I exclaim as he goes to stand. “If you really don’t want it, I’ll finish it.”

He casts me a triumphant smirk, but I’m too busy tucking into the rest of his food to care.

twenty-eight

Once I’ve cleared Elaric’s plate, we start up the narrow creaking staircase to find our room for the night. The inn contains at least a dozen rooms, judging by the row of doors we pass. We soon spot one with a tarnished ‘7’ nailed to its center.

Elaric unlocks it with the key the barkeep gave us and then stands aside, holding open the wooden door for me.

As I enter the dimly-lit room, my stomach swoops.

There’s only one bed. . .

I press my lips together. Of course there’s only one bed, not twin beds like a foolish part of my mind imagined. Elaric and I will have to share it. All this wouldn’t be as awkward if we hadn’t shared a bed before, if we didn’t know what it feels like to lie in each other’s arms.

Before I can gather my thoughts, Elaric closes the door behind us and says, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

I stare at him, trying to decipher the emotion upon his face. But his expression is as stoic as ever. “Surely the floor won’t be comfortable?”

Elaric looks as surprised by my question as I am. For a long moment, he says nothing and we both just stand there.

“It’ll be far too hard, and you won’t catch even a second of sleep.” As I speak, I draw my face into the blankest expression I can manage. I can’t tell if I succeed beneath his sharp gaze.

“You know I don’t require sleep,” he says.

“I know,” I say quickly. “But if you lie there all night long, you’ll wake with a terrible pain in your back. And your neck. Then sailing in the morning will be difficult if you can hardly move. I don’t know the first thing about sailing, so—”

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