Page 54 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“Shut up!” She slaps my hand away, turning red. “I caught her stealing glances at you and remembered you’re objectively attractive, for a guy, and the thoughtbrieflycrossed my mind. Before I dismissed it completely.”
I bring a hand to my chest, falsely insulted. “Ouch!”
Heather and I are best friends, and even though we’re not in love, I intend to take our new commitment seriously. I imagine we’ll both have lovers at some point, but on the surface, we’ll have to act like any married king and queen are expected to. And we actually like each other enough that it won’t be too taxing.
“Didn’t you feel like something was weighing on her, though?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“No clue. I just found her a little more…withdrawn than I would have expected.”
“She probably felt out of place. You know Winter Fae are often uncomfortable in the Summerlands. She was probably just thinking back to her year at the academy?—”
I prop myself up on my elbow. “Wait a minute. She attended this school?”
“Yes, for a year. I’m sure I mentioned it before. You never listen to me.” She tucks a pillow between us like she always does. “Goodnight, pearl of my eyes.”
“Sweet slumber, urchin of my soul.”
We both snort at the familiar phrases, and I twist around to face the wall, my mind still boiling with half-formed questions. Elizabeth’s haunted gaze lingers beneath my closed lids. I find myself obsessed with the notion of what might have happened tonight, if I had been in a position to ask that gorgeous darkling to dance.
I toss and turn in the king-sized bed until I can’t take it anymore. This bizarre pressure between my ribs won’t relent, and sweat pearls above my brows.
Unable to sleep, I sneak out of bed and head back to the bibliotheca. All the lights are closed except for a few bronze lamps lined up over the long desks. The enormous moon glares at me from the window. Craters and shadows move upon its surface, drawing shapes and patterns in a language I almost understand, a secret just out of reach, hidden in the scars of its crust.
If Elizabeth only spent one year here, it means she never graduated, so I’ll have to look in the admittance records. Those are rarely used and kept on top of the built-in shelf, and I stretch to reach the right volume, one foot secured on the solid mahogany ladder. An accumulation of dust and ensuing friction slows my movements as I slide the padded cover out of the stack. I tuck the ledger open on the last step of the ladder, the tepid urgency that lured me out of my room sharpening into focus.
I drag my finger over the aged paper, across columns and rows of names written out in a neat calligraphy by the school’s record clerk. My stomach flip-flops as it reaches Elizabeth’s name, and I blink at the year underlined above with disbelief.
Wait.
She was here the same year I was? How is that possible? Must be a mistake.
But Hephaistos knows our temperamental record clerk and historian extraordinaire, Jillian, would not allow a blunder of this magnitude to spoil her precious archives. No, it’s right here in indelible ink. Elizabeth Snow attended this school at the same time I did, and the name written two lines below hers sends acid to my throat.
Not only was Elizabeth a first-year during my time at the academy, but she knew Willow.Blessed Flame…Why can’t I remember her at all?
Chapter 17
Paper Rings
BETH
The morning light spills through the stained glass of the bibliotheca’s windows, casting fragmented colors across the floor. The sunlight seeps into me, but it does little to thaw the chill lodged deep in my chest. Despite what I promised Elio, my heart stutters on the way to the dining hall, and I slip between two bookcases instead.
I should skip brunch entirely and seek refuge deep within the stacks until the ceremony, as desperate as I am to avoid Heather’s beauty, Elio’s frown, and Aidan’s complete lack of recollection of our past.
After our initial meeting, I toyed with the idea that he was pretending not to recognize me to protect his fiancée, but our conversation dispelled any suspicions that he was merely acting for her sake.
His memories of me are gone.Poof.
Just like that.
I can’t fathom how. His father would have been first in line to erase me, one way or another, but I can’t believe he would have enchanted his own son. We were kids, playing against the wills of kings.
I always thought, even though it hurt like hell, that Aidan had simply come to his senses. Under duress, maybe, but not without reason.
Decades went by without a word. Not one letter.
