Page 72 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
Devi nocks the arrow, her fingers steady on the string. It springs forward, whistling through the air, and bursts upon impact instead of sinking into Iris’s flesh. A warm red glow spreads over her heart, fading after a moment.
Iris glances down at her chest and pats the spot where the glow had shined the brightest. “Well?” she asks, her tone expectant.
“How about that kiss now, Iris?” Devi quips.
I hold my breath as Iris struts over to Elio in her gold heels and plants a kiss on his mouth. My friend reaches for her arms, his hand curling around her wrists like he means to hold her off, but he thinks better of it and kisses her back instead. A throng of applause echoes across the square.
I can’t bring myself to clap along and plaster a fake smile on my lips instead. Elio didn’t want this, not really. It’s going to mess with his head.
After a very heated, very public make out session, Elio tears himself away, angling his face away from the crowd. “Alright, enough.”
Iris covers her mouth with her hand, looking positively shocked. Devi gives the crowd an impish curtsy before collecting her test subject and dragging her off stage.
Willow cups her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. “Woo-hoo. Beth! Elio!” She sways from side to side even though we haven’t even started, drunk on flameroot wine. I’m partly to blame since I gave her my share, and a chuckle escapes me.
Iris whispers something in her ear, but instead of dialing it down, Willow shakes her roommate’s arms until the Spring Fae is dancing and laughing, too. The way Iris stares at Elio is pretty telling that Devi indeed managed to craft a love arrow sharp enough to pierce a Fae’s heart. It was staged, but she wasn’t faking it.
Ezra claps in his signature over-the-top attitude in the front row. “Beth. Beth. Beth.” My breath stutters as the villagers join in.
And then there’s Aidan sulking in the background, leaning on the old church’s fence, his gaze as vivid as a trail of fire ghosting along my shoulders.
“Err— Good evening.” My voice trembles, so I draw in a deep breath and adjust the height of the mic. “Elio and I bounced ideas around about what we wanted to play. This song by Irving Berlin just soared up the charts in the new world, and it got stuck in my head during our visit.”
The original song itself is pretty fast and upbeat, but since it’s just the two of us, Elio and I worked through the kinks of slowing it down.
I catch Aidan’s gaze and hold it for a moment, and a question flickers in his gaze, asking,What are you planning, Songbird?
Oh, he’s in for a treat.
I lick my lips. “I hope you enjoy it.”
I look over at Elio, and give him the go-ahead. I’m a mess of nerves, but as soon as the first lyrics come, a comforting certainty takes over me. I’m not used to singing in front of Fae royals, but in this moment, I have absolutely no second-guesses or fears that my voice is not good enough.
If one part of me is worthy of greatness, it’s my voice. And to sing is my ultimate release.
Listen to me, honey dear
Something's wrong with you I fear
It's getting harder to please you
Harder and harder each year
I don't want to make you blue
But you need a talking to
Like a lot of people I know
Here's what's wrong with you
Aidan squints, his arms braced on the fence behind him like he’s holding himself off from forging closer to the stage.
That’s right, Wonder boy. This one’s for you.
The chorus comes, and I unleash a buttload of sass.
After you get what you want, you don't want it
