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Do I feel guilty about ruining good art?

Not as guilty as I feel about walking out on Temper—which is to say, not guilty at all.

After I finish, I set the wet canvas aside, my hands now covered in smudges of black paint.

Satisfied at my payback, I move on from the canvas to the stack of books. A note sits on the stack.

Callypso,

In case you wanted a little extra knowledge on Solstice.

—Jerome

It takes me a moment to place the name, but finally I do. Jerome was the librarian I met a week ago.

Intrigued by the books he pulled for me, I take the first one from the stack and set it on the table. After pulling up a chair, I open the cover.

Before I can look at the title page or the table of contents, the pages flip themselves then settle on a chapter titled “Solstice.”

My eyes skim the first page, and then the next…and the next. I lose myself in the words, my curiosity about the festival only growing the more I absorb.

From what this chapter says, Solstice is a gathering of all four major kingdoms—Night, Day, Flora, and Fauna—which occurs on the week surrounding the longest day of the year. It’s a renewal celebration hosted in the Kingdom of Flora, and its whole purpose is to celebrate the regeneration of life. Bitter rivalries and old enmities are set aside during this week so the four main kingdoms can meet, discuss issues of the realms, and revel together.

Apparently, from a side note I found in one of the books, not attending Solstice is a pretty big taboo, hence why Malaki hounded Des so doggedly to attend.

As soon as I finish the chapter, the book snaps shut.

All riiight.

I grab the next book in the pile, this one on the Kingdom of Flora. Like the last book, this one flips to a specific page. On it is a painting of a beautiful woman with curling flame-red hair and green eyes, vines of bloodred poppies coiling up her arm.

“Mara Verdana,” the description beneath reads, “Queen of Flora, and her consort-king, the Green Man.”

My eyes flick back to the image, surprise coating my features. There’s a second person in the photo?

But now that I look, there is—he just happens to blend with the foliage in the background. Off to the Flora Queen’s side is literally a green man, his skin a soft shade of the color, his hair and beard a darker, wilder hue. His eyes sparkle with mischief.

I stare at the image for a long time. Mara Verdana is all bright, blooming colors, like a flower in its prime, and the Green Man is the thicket of shrubs and the down of wild grass; he’s all the bits of plants that go overlooked and underappreciated.

These are the rulers who’ll host Solstice. The same ones who enslave humans.

The thought unsettles me greatly, particularly because these two rulers don’tlookevil or unjust. Just like my stepfather didn’t seem like a man who’d abuse his daughter.

I push the book away.

Where is Des?

I’ve been waiting for nearly half an hour, and he still hasn’t shown up. Absently, I wind my bracelet ’round and ’round my wrist. My eyes move to the beads as a thought comes to me.

I don’t need to wait for him if I don’t want to. He has a calling card that’s particularly effective.

“Bargainer,” I call out to the empty room, “I would like to make—”

“Love?” Des’s voice is like smooth scotch, his breath fanning against my cheek.

I look over my shoulder at him. His body is a wall of very appealing muscle, blocking out the rows of books behind us.

He leans a heavy arm against my desk, his eyes dipping to my mouth. “Because if that’s what you wish, cherub, I’d be happy to arrange that.”