Page 15 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“Neither. They all linger between life and death.”

If they are not dead, there must be a way to save them...

Wringing my hands together, I pace before the doors. “How can you be certain they aren’t dead?”

“You do not possess magic, so you cannot feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“Their life forces. Energy remains within them. It does not burn as brightly as yours, or anyone else’s who is alive, and is akin to a flickering ember. Yet those who are dead do not possess this energy. Their souls are like a bed of stone-cold coals.”

I keep pacing, each step more restless than the last. “Can’t you revive them?”

“I have tried many times throughout the centuries. Every attempt thus far has been unsuccessful.”

“Perhaps you can’t free them,” I say, “but maybe someone else can.”

The king neither confirms nor denies my speculation.

“Is it me?” I press. “Am I the one who can save her, all of them? Is this why you have sought a Summer Queen for so long?”

Rather than answering my question, he rises and paces over to the doors. I glare at him, furious that he insists on being so cowardly.

“That’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

“Try to sleep, Adara,” he says as he opens the doors. “You need to rest.”

My lip curls. “Will you lock me up in here again tonight?”

“No,” he whispers. “I will not.”

With that, he leaves and the doors shut behind him. No click of the lock follows.

Elona and Kassia soon return, bearing a steaming bowl of stew. I eat faster than I can swallow, not caring that it scalds my mouth. In their effort to combat the palace’s chill, they have heated it until it’s molten. I eat so quickly I spare no thought for its flavors, only that it is fuel my body has gone without for days. And right now I need every ounce of strength to free Dalia from the king’s spell.

When I finish, Elona takes the bowl. “Would you like another, milady?”

“No, thank you,” I say. “I ate that one so quickly I fear I’ll be sick if I eat any more.”

She dips her head, but they both linger rather than leave.

“What has happened, milady?” Elona asks.

The question takes me by surprise. Though anyone would be curious about everything that’s happened between the king and me, it’s unlike Elona to ask.

“I . . . ” I trail off, uncertain where to begin.

“Forgive me,” she says. “It isn’t my place.”

“No, wait!” I call as she turns to leave. They both pause, peering at me, but the words stick in my throat.

When I don’t speak, Kassia steps forward, taking my hand. “We worry for you.” She squeezes tighter. “The king said you were unwell the morning after your wedding. Then you tried escaping over the walls. After that, he ordered Merlys to serve you, forbidding us from coming near. The kitchen staff noticed all your untouched, frozen meals being returned. And tonight he summoned us to escort you back here.”

Elona edges closer to my bed and lowers her voice. “May I ask, milady, if he has hurt you? Is this why you tried to escape?”

“No,” I choke out. “No, it was me. I tried to kill him. I drove a dagger through his chest on our wedding night.”

They’re silent, but the horror on their faces is clear.

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