Page 118 of Heart of the Summer Queen

All air empties my lungs as my attention snags on the figure settled at the end of my bed, skirts pooled across the bright damask sheets.

Silken dark waves cascade down her back. Her delicate face fills with surprise as she turns to me.

“Adara,” Dalia breathes.

Hearing the voice I thought forever lost pierces my heart, shattering the trance which has engulfed me. My lifeless limbs stir. Sense floods back.

I dart forth, desperate to prove she’s real and not a figment of my imagination soon to be snatched away again. The rest of the world fades around us.

Dalia bolts from the bed, crossing the chamber to meet me at the center. Her fingers lace through mine, warm and solid.

And she is real.

I can only stare at her, hundreds of words crowding my tongue yet none forming.

I tremble as her slender arms wrap around me, as she pulls me into a forceful hug. My whole body is so weightless, I’m certain I’d crash to the floor if not for her firm embrace.

“Oh, Adara,” she murmurs, stroking my hair with aching familiarity. “My brave and ferocious sister.”

“I missed you,” I choke. Tears flood my cheeks, dampen her hair. “Every second, every day, I missed you so much.”

“I’m here now,” she says, squeezing me tighter.

When at last Dalia releases me, I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, struggling to believe this moment is real.

Linking her arm through mine, she guides us to sit cross-legged upon the bed, where we’re surrounded by countless embroidered blankets.

“How much you’ve grown since I last saw you!” Dalia exclaims with a laugh. “And your maids tell me you’re now our queen? Imagine that, my little sister, the Queen of Avella!”

I just shake my head, overwhelmed by her really being here. By us really having this conversation.

“They told me fragments of what happened,” Dalia says, smile growing, “but I’ve waited to hear the full tale straight from you. So, tell me every last detail of your adventures, dear sister. All of it, from the beginning.”

Swallowing hard against welling emotion, I lean closer.

And then I tell her everything, right from the very start.

Epilogue

The trees blazed with the vivid hues of fall. As the carriage rattled down the winding forest road, crimson leaves broke free and blew past the window. Elaric couldn’t help but watch as they drifted by. Seeing how Adara didn’t stare out even half as much as he did, he supposed such a thing would look unremarkable to anyone else. But not to him. He had been gazing out the entire morning since leaving the palace. It was a sight he hadn’t seen for an eternity, and he’d almost forgotten the season existed.

Intending to make the journey to Netham and back in one day, the carriage they’d chosen was on the smaller side, and so there was barely enough room for them both on the cushioned bench. Shortly after departing, he’d risen and offered to sit on the other one, but she’d grabbed his arm and insisted for him to remain where he was. As Elaric had only suggested shifting seats for her benefit, he’d made no protest. Besides, he preferred staying close beside her, cramped though it was.

In the weeks since returning home, Elaric regretted they hadn’t been able to spend more time together. The palace had been in a state of chaos when he’d arrived, with those hundredsof recently awakened girls. Soon after resolving that matter, his schedule had filled with a steady stream of visitors—mostly elderly lords who hadn’t set foot in the Crystal Palace for years, due to their fears of its chill on their ailing health. But it seemed the palace’s transformation and the truth of his curse had lured some even from their deathbeds.

So, it was only the nights which Adara and him had to themselves. And those hours usually passed by in a blissful flurry. Not that he minded.

Still, there was much to be said for simply sitting quietly in each other’s company, and he dearly hoped that when the novelty of recent events wore off, they’d share more of these peaceful moments.

With that thought, Elaric reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. His gaze lingered on her for some time before she noticed and met his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Just looking at you,” he murmured.

Heat rose in Adara’s cheeks at his words. How he loved it when she blushed.

The carriage rolled on through the forest, and he didn’t release her hand. After a while, his attention shifted to the bouquet which perched on the bench opposite them. The reminder of what was to come caused the tension within him to coil ever tighter. He instead tried to focus on Adara beside him—the delicate warmth of her fingers around his. The triumphant grin she’d worn that morning, bursting into his chambers and clutching the same bouquet now across from them. She hadn’t arranged it alone. Her sister had also woken early to help select the roses, the two of them accompanied by a flock of maids. Elaric was surprised such a simple task had required so many. But he hadn’t dampened Adara’s enthusiasm by saying so.

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