I blinked.

And that was that.

There was no crackling snap as reality came undone. No prodding by my loyal handmaiden to ensure my face didn’t grace a puddle of mud. It was as gentle as my eyes opening to the swaying branches of my apple trees after a brief 9 hour nap. 

Except this wasn’t my orchard I saw before me.

It was a window. 

And all beyond it was a town in motion.

Lavishly ornate homes snaked around a glass road, the domed rooftops of orange jade brightly illuminated beneath an ever twilight sky. Hues of midnight, dusk and dawn twirled like a palette assailed by a child’s first touch. And although there was no sunlight, neither was there darkness.

There was only joy.

The joy of song. 

The joy of dance.

The joy of colours.

The fae danced beyond the window, their wings glimmering as much as their smiles. 

Ribbons of pure magic floated around them like bubbles beneath the sea. And all around them was music. Songs which bore no names were played by instruments untouched by hands. The very air was alight with notes which struck as cleanly as the tap of a fork against a glass. 

A celebration was in progress. 

As was appropriate.

After all–

I’d been kidnapped. 

To the Fae Realm. 

Again.

The stars returning over my kingdom were no more. As was my kingdom itself. Yet that didn’t mean it was the abyss of an empty bedroom or a small playground meadow which was there to welcome me. 

No … this time, it was tables and chairs.

I slowly turned my gaze. 

Unlike what the fae architecture would suggest, my surroundings were distinctly quainter.

Mahogany made up the furniture of a large room, as well as much of the walls. 

The darkened wood was brightened by the flowery vines which hung from them. The tables were adorned with shining cutlery, glassware and potted azaleas–of which the largest sat upon a shining counter neatly filled with individual bricks carved in the shape of cake slices. 

A small sign was proudly displayed overhead.

The Midsummer Café.

All our bricks are made with locally sourced clay!

A café.

One not far different from those overlooking the promenade of my royal capital … including the dubious edibility of the food served.

That likely explained why there was only a single customer.

And it wasn’t me.

“Welcome, Your Highness. Please sit and peruse the menu. I recommend everything.”

At last, I turned my attention to my smiling assailant sitting at the table beside me.

A beautiful maiden with golden eyes and a wavy ponytail as red as any of the potted flowers.

She was no lady laying waste to decorum by hurling her fists at a pillow. Nor was she a young girl navigating the realm of dreams while playing upon a swing.

Instead, she bore the appearance of an elven townsgirl no older than myself. 

There was no fine gown of rubies and crystallised sweat from the seamstresses adorning her. It was a linen dress with a roughly stitched bodice, lacking any trailing carpet necessary to trip up the suitors doubtless after her wealth.

It was modest and practical. 

Words that were anathema to describe anything worn by royalty. 

Yet here was the Summer Queen herself, dressed as plainly as any commoner likely to accidentally walk into this establishment–just before walking out again.

After all, no matter how she arrayed herself, she couldn’t dispel her regal presence. 

Nor, indeed, the crystalline wings reflecting the image of a shimmering dawn.

I offered a pleasant smile.

“Salutations. Would you be the Summer Queen?”

“I am, yes.”

“I see … and this would be the Summer Court, yes?”

“That’s correct.”

I nodded.

Then … I picked up a knife from the table.

The Summer Queen immediately raised an eyebrow. 

I saw it from the polished reflection as I leaned in to study the utensil. I was mildly impressed. Pure silver. No dilution. Enough to ward away the undead just by waving it.

I slipped it into my bottomless pouch.

A moment later, I did the same with a fork. And then a spoon. And also a cup. Plus a few napkins.

And then I did it again … and again.

One by one, I went to each table, adding to the song of summer in the backdrop with my own melodic humming as I burgled the Fae Realm.

“... Your Highness, may I ask what you’re doing?”

“Hm?” I glanced towards the Summer Queen, smiling innocently as I started pulling out drawers from behind the counter. “Oh, please don’t mind me. I promised that the next time I was abducted against my will, I would acquire souvenirs for my loyal handmaiden. Do you have a palace nearby?”

“... You wish to visit my palace?”

“Yes, I wish to visit the bathroom. To see what toiletries are available. Would you have any?”

The Summer Queen blinked at me.

For a long moment, she made no reply.

And then–

“Pffft.”

She burst into laughter.

Leaning back in her chair, she raised her head and offered her mirth towards the ceiling, her golden eyes wincing as her hands quickly went to her tummy.

It was only after allowing me enough time to plunder the cabinet drawers did she lean forwards, elbow resting against the table and her cheek nestled within her palm.

“I’ve no toiletries available,” she lied. “However, if it’s souvenirs you desire, I’m quite happy to offer you much better than spoons and napkins.”

I clapped my hands in delight.

That meant she didn’t notice me taking the teacups.

“My, how wonderful! Just the words I wanted to hear! And if it stops with those, then all is well!” 

“I–”

“No no no, that is enough! Merely point the right direction and my bottomless pouch will do the rest.”

I waited for the Summer Queen to direct me to her vault.

She didn’t.

“I’m afraid that’s quite impractical,” she said with a look of bemusement. “Summer is the season of abundance. Of wealth and prosperity. I have more treasures than all my sisters combined. There’s more to offer you than there is pollen for the honey bees. And that means I’d need to point in every direction.”

“Truly? … Then I suppose you can begin gathering select treasures into a single pile. They will serve as compensation for this latest act of egregiousness which violates the laws neither of us follow.” 

“I suppose that’s doable. Which treasures would you like?” 

“Everything.”

“... Everything?”

“There’s a reason my tax inspectors are most active in summer. It’s because no snowballs are there to attack them. But also because summer is the season of generosity. If my peasants can part with all they have, then so can the monarch of summer. Or could it be that you only have more treasures than your sisters because you hoard your trinkets like a goblin preparing a bazaar?”

The Summer Queen tilted her head slightly.

Even so, her smile remained unabated.

“... How very curious. My memories stretch further than the first wave upon your shores. But I believe this is the first time I’ve ever been likened to a goblin.”

“Yes, well, it’s a rather unfair comparison. For goblins, that is. They may have busy hands, but none of them are used to kidnap princesses. They know as well as I do that stealing me away in the middle of the night is something reserved only for dragons.”

“Then I’d suggest that such worries are punted to the horizon. Whatever you’ve heard about the noble and ancient dragons, the truth is that you’re unlikely to be bundled away.”  

I gasped.

“Excuse me? Are you suggesting dragon’s don’t kidnap princesses?”

“No, I’m suggesting dragons won’t kidnap you.”

“... Hm?”

“It’s more than the fae who have heard rumours about you. Especially since I’m cursed with very gossipy sisters and they’ve told just about everyone that you … well, it doesn’t matter.”

Poomph.

I slammed my palms down against the counter.

“W-What did they say?! What slander do they vomit?!”

“It’s not slander. Only the truth. And that’s enough to make it very likely that no dragon will kidnap you. Under any circumstances. In fact, most will simply fly away from you.”

I was aghast.

How … How dare they discourage dragons from kidnapping me!

“That is outrageous! To be flown through the sky while kicking and screaming is the sign of my birthright! … Where are the queens who have spread these libelous rumours?! I demand to see them at once!”

“That can be arranged,” said the Summer Queen, not looking the least bit fussed about betraying her own sisters. “But I’d need something in return.”

I instantly directed my finger of ire at her.

“You already have it! An unscheduled meeting with me!” 

“To you, perhaps. But every meeting is written in the stars. And here in the Fae Realm, ours are as numerous as our songs.”

I leaned over the counter to threaten my fingertip just a little closer.

She leaned away, despite the distance between us.

“Do not try to explain away this latest breach of protocol with lazy poetry! … Really now, just how many times must I repeat myself? The queue applies to all, whether that be you or your servants meandering about my kingdom–a diplomatic error which I’m only willing to wave away with a subtle donation to my pillow collection!” 

A girlish laugh came as my answer.

Yet another insult. I was being serious. If the Summer Kingdoms could export pillows, then I saw no reason why the Summer Court couldn’t as well.

“My subjects are clumsy, but well meaning. Should any be found wandering your kingdom, know that it’s only because they cannot help but indulge in the endless joys it has to offer.”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Empty if also accurate flattery isn’t enough to avoid reparations.”

“There’s nothing empty about my flattery.” 

The Summer Queen removed her palm from her cheek. She offered an earnest smile. 

“In truth, I find myself somewhat envious. A queen may enjoy many things, but few of them involve idling in another kingdom. Unlike my sister of snow, I’ve no wish for my crown to be stolen just to experience a tour … although I can see why she was tempted. Your kingdom may be lacking in size, but not entertainment.”

“Firstly, my kingdom isn’t lacking in size. It’s as vast as your reservoir of shamelessness. Secondly, my kingdom doesn’t exist for your entertainment. That is rude and callous. It exists for my own. Now, how did you kidnap me and how do I stop this from constantly happening?”

The fae in the guise of an elven townsgirl fluttered her wings ever so slightly. 

It was enough to douse her in a shimmering aura of hazy light. 

“Generosity is not easily prevented,” she said with false gentleness. “Where there are flames, there are my eyes. And what I see is a princess in need. I am extending a helping hand.”

“Wonderful. You can help by sending me back.” 

“And what about the Witch of Calamity … ?”

“The only Witch of Calamity I see is a fae queen burning etiquette to the ground. To best an empty bedroom and a playground by greeting me in a common establishment is certainly a problem. But no less than an errant mage who believes she can slumber away her soap making responsibilities.”

The Summer Queen raised her arms and stretched, diligently ensuring that not even the ashes of decorum remained.

“To allow Miss Lainsfont to slumber is the wisest action you might take,” she said, clearly making the minimum of effort not to yawn. “Given a few centuries, you might find an answer to her curse after trawling through every tome lost beneath the depths of the mortal plane. But since that's awfully tedious, I'll save you the trouble. I wish to offer a fair exchange, Your Highness.” 

“Words I’ve heard all too recently. And unlike with a devil, you don’t even offer the spectacle of a floating contract engulfed in infernal flames.” 

“Devils are shameless,” said the Summer Queen with a playful smile. “I am more reserved. As are my demands. You shall find this to be a relief. The curse of calamity is a flame which runs deeper than any spring breeze can reach. It cannot be extinguished. But it can be controlled.”

“I see. And just what would summer require for such a conveniently timed service, I wonder? A song to help the flowers bloom, perhaps?”

“As a matter of fact–yes. I would have you tend to the most beloved flower of the Summer Court.”

I offered the raised eyebrow this deserved.

The rejection would come shortly after.

“And which flower is this, exactly?” 

The Summer Queen reached forwards and plucked an azalea from the pot before her. She admired it for a moment, leaning in to take in its scent.

“The flower which summer is most known for," she said, the maiden smiling innocently as she looked up from the petals. "And in this, I believe you’ll wish to offer your gardening skills, lest the thorns grow to overcome even yourself.”

A trickle of something red dribbled down the azalea's stem.

Then, she elegantly pointed at herself.

“... Me."