Page 60 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
The legs of Willow’s chair creak along the hardwood as she stands up and clears her throat. “Way back when, the Summer King fell in love with a mortal, but she was already married. Adultery was seen as this terrible, unforgivable sin, so his beloved would not bend, afraid of being caught. But he burned for her so much that he cast a spell over her entire village and released all the evil spirits on St. John’s Eve to create a diversion so they could sneak out and spend one night together without consequences.” She quiets down, her voice tinged with sadness. “This sparked a tradition among Summer Fae. The night of the solstice—the shortest night of the year—you can be with whoever you want, no matter the circumstances.”
I don’t know why exactly, but the way she breathes the words quickens my heartbeat, and I steal a glance at Aidan.
Whoever you want.
“The spirits ended up killing hundreds of villagers. They were selfish and dumb,” Elio chimes in.
Iris nods in agreement. “Elio is right. As if anyone needs an excuse for infidelity. What a bore. It’s an ancient way of going about relationships.”
Elio blushes deep red at that, still grappling with his unrequited crush.
“Everyone cheats. We should just embrace it and stop being so judgemental about it,” Iris adds.
“But that’s the point of St. John’s Eve. Better to have one night set aside for everyone to give in to their hearts’ desires than actually betray their vows,” Willow grumbles unhappily at her roommate. “It relieves the pressure of ourcenturies-long commitments by allowing for one night of freedom each year. The trade-off is worth it.”
The unease at the pit of my stomach grows as I stare out at the bright sky. I shake my head and bite my tongue. Moths take marriage and commitment more seriously than dandelion fluffs and fireflies, clearly. I can’t believe we’re the ones that get a bad rep, when the Summerlands official holiday is actually a shag-whoever-you-want night. I knew this already, of course, but I’d never confronted the emotions that rise in me at the thought of being allowed, even encouraged, to step outside of amarriage. The winter solstice actually does something incredibly beautiful and needed, and it makes me feel even more homesick.
Aidan raps his fingers on the desk. “What about you, Miss Elizabeth? Do you have something to share with the class?”
The overly formal way he addresses me feels like a slap in the face.Miss Elizabeth.Like I’m some young schoolgirl he’s never met.
My eyes narrow. “Marriage should be built on more than just efforts to hang onto meaningless crowns. If people married for love, then St. John’s Eve wouldn’t be needed at all,” I ground out.
“Hear, hear,” Elio cheers behind me.
A red, incandescent blush sears my cheeks.By the spindle…where did that come from?
Zeke narrows his eyes, and I don’t dare to sneak a glance at Aidan, pretty sure that I’ll spontaneously combust if our gazes meet.
“Do as I say and not as I do, right, Beth?” Iris quips.
I hide my face in my palms at her jab. She’s right, and my own hypocrisy threatens to choke me.
“I thought you were a fan of the ballad of St. John Eve. You sang it during your admission trials,” Aidan says like he’s discussing something as trivial as what he plans to eat for dinner.
“Wait. Beth sang in the labyrinth?” Willow gasps.
“A little,” I admit.
Elio’s voice booms behind me. “Beth is just being humble. She’s a fantastic singer.”
Aidan’s brows furrow, his jaw clenching at the praise, his gaze searching mine for the first time since he entered the room. His amber depths ask too many questions for me to keep track of, and my heart pounds at my temples.
“Oh, Beth. You have to sing for the solstice gala. Elio can accompany you on the piano,” Willow squeals.
The gala is apparently a very important tradition for the Augustus villagers, and she leads the planning committee. I’d managed to steer clear of participating until now, but I can’t focus on anything but Aidan’s inquisitive stare as I answer, “Err— Alright.”
Shadows drape over his face, and he breaks eye contact, moving ahead with the rest of the lesson. I wonder if I’ve imagined the embers of jealousy I saw flicker in his irises when Elio spoke, and if it means that, against all odds, he thought of me while he was gone.
The scorching humidityI have yet to get accustomed to assaults me as soon as Willow and I step out of the main building. The horizon is quickly fading from pink to midnight-blue, the sun’s departure making the stuffy air a little more bearable. Since so many of the fourth-years and graduate students have spent the last few weeks off-world, their return commands a party.
Willow guides me down the stony path that leads to Saffron Cove, her elbow hooked around my arm. “You’ve studied every waking hour of every day. You deserve one last night of fun before you entomb yourself in your room for the next three days.”
“I agreed to come, didn’t I?” I say with a smile.
An adorable pout twists her features. “I can’t believe the exams are coming so quickly.”
“Cheer up, Will. You’re the best student in the class.”
