The scent of warmth filled the air.

A hint of vanilla. A drop of honey. A pinch of cinnamon. 

Like all the fragrances of a tarte aux pommes dorées, a sweet aroma wafted within these walls of mahogany. However, it was neither due to the overly varnished surfaces nor the potted azaleas needing watering which tickled my nose. 

It was from a newly conjured pot of sweetened chamomile.

The one beside the rising pile of plates.

Still at her table, the Summer Queen nibbled on her 27th slice of brick. 

The moment she finished, she clicked her fingers. 

A new plate and a new slice of brick appeared before her. A highly enviable feat. Were I able to summon snacks with a click of my fingers, it would make the taste of the ones my servants brought up to my tower even sweeter. 

However, despite her powers over bricks, nothing compared to her talent for comedy.

Why, that was utterly unrivalled.

“... ohohoho … ohohohoho … ohohohohohoho … !!”

I clutched my arms around my tummy.

Leaning down while struggling to stay standing, I careened behind the wooden counter, my bottomless pouch clinking from the weight of all the tableware yet to find its way to the bottom.

The Summer Queen made no complaint. 

Nor could she. 

Impertinence was the only quality the fae possessed. But this was markedly beyond that. 

It was audacity at the level of gently coughing into a fist whenever I fell asleep at my mandatory tea party. 

And that … that was simply wonderful.

Ohohohoho!

Why, here I was, thinking the fae to be dull and shorn of amusement … and yet to suggest that I tend to foreign royalty like a freshly hired assassin was a performance so comical my jesters were knocking each other’s ink pots over just in their haste to write it down!

“Your Highness,” said the Summer Queen as she finished her latest snack. “There was more I–”

“Wait.” 

I held up my finger and took several deep breaths.

“... I’m fine,” I said, nodding seriously. “Please continue.” 

“Very well, as I was saying, there was more I wanted to–”

“Ohohohohohohooohohoohoo!!”

The Summer Queen’s smile twitched.

Naturally, I understood her thoughts. Because while my melodic laughter might be bouncing off the walls, the truth was that it was utterly insufficient.

Even so, I could add nothing more–and so the last of my levity eventually died down.

I wiped a tear from my eye, massaged my aching sides and fixed my posture.

Then, I went over to take my seat opposite the Summer Queen. 

The stack of plates wobbled as I did my best to unnecessarily shake the table as much as possible. I lifted the teacup that the Summer Queen had prepared for me sometime after her 8th slice of brick, then offered a nod as the sweetened liquid soothed my throat.

“My apologies,” I said, smiling as the teacup lowered to a gentle clink. “I must have misheard. Could you please repeat your request?”

“I could. But untold centuries of wisdom tells me not to. And also the glances through the window.”

“Wonderful. Because the answer is no. I’m a princess. Not a servant. If you wish for a handmaiden, then I suggest you kidnap somebody else. Just not Coppelia. She’s already employed. I’ve no doubt she’d only laugh harder at any attempt to poach her.”

“The laughter isn’t necessary. This is an offer made in good faith.”

“And which offer would that be? … The one I just heard or the one where you ask me to leave while allowing you to keep at least one teacup?” 

“The first. I understand that being whisked away from your home is unsettling. And like yourself, I’m also quite busy. Summer is soon here, and so my time is already limited.”

“My, how efficient. To save time by encouraging an instant rejection. I confess I rather like that.”

The Summer Queen gave a little twirl of her finger. 

The stack of teetering plates I was subtly blowing towards her vanished.

“Good. Because saving time is very much what I’m doing. You made offers to my sisters. What I wish for is no different. I’m merely skipping over the tedium of negotiation.”

“You’ll need to skip back. My charity was appropriate for what I extor … for the favours I requested.”

“Would quenching the flames of calamity not be deemed a favour?”

“If it saves me time and effort, then I’m willing to offer several books from my poetry collection. You’ll need to brawl with a dragon for it, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

The Summer Queen merely giggled at the idea.

Clearly, boredom was a more severe issue than I’d thought.

“A princess’s poetry. And the ire of a head librarian who’s looking forward to sampling it. A tempting offer. But it’s not my need for amusement which needs tending to. Only my sense of vanity.”

“Your sense of vanity needs work. You appear to be dressed for a gala in a tavern.”

“It’s because I’m vain that I can dress for a gala in a tavern. Do you know how difficult it is to attain something plain in a land of eternal vibrancy? Everything else I own is so blindingly colourful it draws away from the eye. I refuse to allow that–just as I refuse to allow my sisters to overshadow me. The Spring Queen in particular.”

Click.

All of a sudden, a fresh plate of bricks appeared between us. 

These weren’t the neatly sliced portions of before. They were whole, rectangular and–so far as the anticipation of a fae queen suggested–tasted far better than they appeared.

“Perhaps you saw it,” said the Summer Queen, clearly waiting for me to take the first brick. “Just as you did when confronted with a devil. My youngest sister is a brat. An insufferable know-it-all whose appearance very much matches her personality. To you, she offers her sweetest smile. But to me, she offers nothing but grief. I would see the scales balanced.” 

A dangerous smile flashed as a warning. 

It wasn’t needed.

The enmity, rivalry and competition between the fae queens were famed throughout the tales they themselves sowed. As was every reason to avoid it.

“The fae do not concern me,” I said simply. “Familial disputes even less so.”

“Yet you’re the reason for the latest. Which makes you uniquely placed to aid me. Do not think that my youngest sister would offer her blessing for any princess. She favours you.”

“Well, yes. Everybody does. I see no reason to change this.”

“The reason is that as wholesome as spring is, summer is lovelier still–and far more generous. Should you entertain my request, I’ll not only ensure that Miss Lainsfont’s flames are sealed, but all of them.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Explain.”

“The curse of calamity is ancient. It is myth, magic and emotion blended into a gruel of darkness. It is the cinders of hatred given form. A mistake made long in the past. And although the witches no longer recall its origins, they still bear the sacrifice of imprisoning it–and being imprisoned in turn.”

The Summer Queen leaned forwards.

Doing away with formality, she propped both elbows upon the table, her cheeks resting in either hand.

“But no bars last forever. Miss Lainsfont may perish, but the burden she carries will not … unless I choose to change that.”

“Marvellous. And I suppose the only thing preventing your philanthropy is my permission?” 

“No. It is a general lack of care regarding the mortal realm. So here is my offer–I will deny the curse of calamity. This is no small effort on my part, nor will it come without sacrifice from the witches I save. But it will be a far kinder fate than the barbarism of unwaking sleep. Nobody deserves to be in the Spring Court for that long.”

“True, and yet I expect to find myself there the moment I even consider your words.”

The Summer Queen smiled.

“If you do, then you’d only earn a pout. My sister’s true wrath would be aimed solely at myself. After all, I’m making an offer too good to refuse. I am the queen of abundance. And so what I desire for my favours will not cost you in time, crowns or dignity.”

Releasing her cheeks, the Summer Queen sat up and adopted something halfway towards proper posture.

“You have a sword technique. You use it to launch fruit slimes. As well as other things.”

I leaned away as my princess senses suddenly tingled.

“You’ve no evidence I’ve ever done such a thing,” I said at once. “I possess only a delicate gardening technique used to shoo away the caterpillars.”

“Of course. [Spring Breeze], yes?”

“That’s correct.”

The Summer Queen nodded.

“I wish for you to rename it.”

“... Excuse me?”

“From now on, please refer to it as [Summer Breeze]. In return, I shall save your kingdom from the ever looming threat of witchly calamity.”

I instantly recoiled, practically scalded by the brazenness of her request.

“You … You wish for me to rename [Spring Breeze]?” 

“Yes. That is all.”

“That is all?” My mouth widened in horror. “I … I cannot rename [Spring Breeze] as [Summer Breeze] no more than I can rename it as [Ball Of Doom]! … That is simply incorrect!”

Indeed!

Spring and summer were different seasons for a reason! As were my naming conventions!

“It’s a simple–”

“There is no ‘simple’ to this! A summer breeze and a spring breeze are entirely dissimilar! … Why, one is calming and lethargic! The other is brisk and invigorating! If I were to rename my delicate gardening technique to [Summer Breeze], then I’d need to change it to also put caterpillars to sleep–perhaps after they’ve finished gorging upon my peonies first! That will not help me!”

The Summer Queen was unrepentant.

Far from it, she simply looked amused as she twirled a loose strand of her ponytail.

Yes, just like a teasing maiden in the midst of a game.

“Your [Spring Breeze] is becoming increasingly renowned,” she said lightly. “I cannot accept this–nor can I accept the smirk of my youngest sister. It’s appalling. How can anyone think of summer when you’re constantly reminding everyone of spring? … It is deeply unfair. I demand that this changes.”

I was aghast.

This … this was a scandal!

After all … she was completely right!

Why, for me to be inadvertently promoting spring, no, wait … for me to be promoting any of them was a travesty! 

I did not do anything for free!

Spring, summer, autumn and winter! All this time, my delicate gardening techniques and all the gasps of wailing admiration they earned had been unfairly freeloaded upon by them all! 

As far as the scales were concerned, this was utterly weighed against me!

Indeed … I’d never considered how unfair this was! 

That I’d been espousing the names of the seasons without receiving anything in kind was patently unjust! For this to be equal, they needed to sing my praises at a ratio of ∞ to 1!

Yes, something needed to change.

… And it would begin with summer!

“I see.” I nodded at once. “... Then I believe it’s time I made an offer of my own.” 

“Oh?”

The Summer Queen feigned only a look of mild interest. 

I placed a hand to my chest and smiled.

“You may rejoice. For you needn’t concern yourself with matters of the breeze. Summer casts a wind so ferocious that it burns in the hearts and memories of all who experience it. Such a gift is what I’m willing to offer you.”

“Excuse me?” she replied, the dubiousness as clear in her tone as it was in her smile. “What do you mean? I am summer itself. There is nothing left for me to experience.”

I leaned slightly forwards. She leaned slightly away.

“... In the Fae Realm perhaps, where summer is ever a twilight sky. But have you ever experienced it as a festival beneath a blue horizon, or a bonfire in the darkness?”

The Summer Queen blinked.

Suddenly, the playful smile faded as confusion came over her. And why not? 

I was about to heal her wounded vanity to such an extent that she would forever speak my name in glowing terms for all to hear.

Ohohohohohoho!

“I know more than any other the constraints of royalty,” I said, not knowing such constraints at all. “To be a queen is to observe. To guard. To weep. A ceaseless and unforgiving task as the weight of responsibility presses down upon your shoulders. It stills your steps and closes your eyes. How long has it been since you last danced, I wonder, you who reigns over jubilance and bliss?” 

The Summer Queen made no reply.

She didn’t need to. Her eyes as she glanced towards her frolicking herd past the window was enough. 

It might be glass which separated them. But it was status which kept them apart.

“That’s why–I will offer something no fae has ever received. A thing so rare and precious that it will heal your wavering confidence more than any moment of triumph regarding unworkable naming issues … I will offer you a formal invitation to attend the Summer Solstice Festival.”

The Summer Queen failed to hide her shock.

Her hands gripped the sides of her chair, stopping herself from simply tumbling over.

“T-That is a thing of mortal revelry! I’ve no interest in something so dull!” 

“Hmmmmm … is that so?”

“It … It is! I rule over the realm of festivity itself! There is nothing I can experience in a human … soirée which would do more than earn my boredom and distaste!”

“Then it’s clear your learning can begin now. The Summer Solstice Festival is more than a soirée. It is a week-long carnival throughout my kingdom, but greatest of all is the celebration within my royal capital. There will be stands filled with games, stalls teeming with oily foods, corners illegally occupied by hapless bards … and a crowd large enough for even royalty to hide in. There you may indulge in the constant flattery of summer. Not as a queen. But as a simple townsgirl without care or responsibility.”

The Summer Queen gulped.  

I soothed her quaking with an angelic smile.

“This I offer. A royal invitation to enter my kingdom. And to experience all the revelry that my kingdom has to offer. It will be the least of your reward for ensuring the only flames during the festival will come from the displays and not any cackling witches.”

Silence.

For a moment, only the Summer Queen’s wide eyes conveyed her thoughts. 

Even so, she eventually braved a smile as rebellious as it was convincing. 

“I see … how mildly tempting … but sealing the curse which presides in every witch merely to attend a mortal festival is hardly an equal trade.”

“You’re correct. I’m being far too generous.”

“... Excuse me?”

“I can hardly just let you wander. There’s no telling what chaos you might cause. Therefore, you’ll be there as my loyal maid, serving my every unreasonable whim while also paying for every stall we visit. Please arrive dressed for the part. You also need to fix my bed. This is important. It’s melted.”

The Summer Queen looked appalled.

As she should. The thought of me sleeping on the torture devices innkeepers called beds was horrific enough to cause any fae to shed tears.

“You cannot be serious,” she said.

I smiled, raising my hand to my lips.

“Ohhohohoho … why, I'm always serious.”

I paused, waiting for the customary huff of complaint, followed by the world’s smallest nod.

Instead–

“I can’t.”

“Hm? What do you mean you can’t? … Because I’m certain I can find a uniform that fits you.”

“The thought of wearing a maid uniform is embarrassing beyond measure. But I mostly refer to the bed. I cannot fix that.”

I blinked.

“What … What do you mean you cannot fix that? You just offered to stave off the powers of witchly calamity. Why can you fix witches but not a bed?” 

“Your bed is made of winter and spring. I have no hold over that. If you want, I can add a touch of summer to your bed, but I cannot repair it. For that, you shall need to ask my sisters.”

I nodded in understanding.

“Very well,” I said, activating my brightest smile. “I suppose your bed will have to do, then.”

“I don’t have a bed.”

“Excuse me? … You don’t have a bed?”

“My bed is all around me,” said the Poverty Queen. “It’s the grass, the flowers and the quiet recesses behind the waterfalls of my realm. And while I can offer much, I’m afraid these things are mine and mine alone.”

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I didn’t bother hiding my groan.

If there was one thing I didn’t want to do, it was seeing any fae queen more than zero times … and yet if the alternative was being kept up by the dancing mice, I was willing to endure any hardship. 

As long as it was very brief.

“Haaah … fine. How do I speak with the Winter Queen and Spring Queen?”

The Summer Queen’s dangerous smile returned. 

I was filled with remorse.

“By opening the correct door,” she said with a click of her fingers.

Poof.

Suddenly, a white door appeared, its simple frame clashing against the rich mahogany wall.

The Summer Queen stood up. 

She patted down her townsgirl clothes, then walked over to the newly revealed door, pushing it slightly ajar before gesturing for me to peek inside.

I did so only cautiously.

Slowly, with my hands raised in the famed princess school of martial arts, I approached the white door  like an alert fawn and slowly prodded it open.

What I saw made my arms drop to my sides. 

Within were the familiar white walls of the Winter Queen’s bedroom. 

Except she’d taken my previous advice to heart.

It’d been decorated. Extensively.

Gone was the bare evidence of a queen longing for colour. 

It was now everywhere. 

There were bright cushions in every corner. Stacks of familiar books with scandalous covers. Portraits with brushstrokes instantly recognisable as those belonging to a certain countryside baroness. Stuffed plushies bearing the uncanny resemblance of the Snow Dancer … plus what appeared to be one my own, far more amateurishly sewn and squished amongst all the Ophelias.

But most of all–

It was colour in the form of a large circular mirror.

There, reflecting upon it, was not the faces of the two fae queens sitting with their knees up before it, their figures surrounded by bowls of fried sliced potatoes, mixed nuts and bricks.

Rather … it was of my own widening mouth and increasingly appalled expression.

A moment later, both the Winter Queen and the Spring Queen slowly turned around, their shimmering hair–one of pure snow and the other meadowy green–darkening before my looming shadow. 

Their wide eyes looked up at me as their expressions paled.

I hardly saw why.

I had nothing for them but my kindness.