Page 102 of A Kingdom's Heart
We stepped through, and I could barely breathe for a moment. Trees surrounded us, tall and silent, their leaves whispering in the breeze. We walked further until the sound of water reached my ears.
The trees thinned as we walked, and soon the sound of water grew louder. The air carried the smell of sea salt and wet stone.
When we stepped past the last line of trees, the sea stretched before us, calm and dark beneath the moonlight.
William walked ahead and sat down near one of the trees, the same way he used to by the riverbank. I stood there for a moment, just staring. The soft rush of waves, the shimmer of the moon on the water was all too familiar. For a heartbeat, I almost believed I was back home.
I took a slow breath and moved closer. Before I could sit, I felt his strong arms slip gently around my waist. The warmth of his touch was steadying and grounding.
“I thought you’d like this,” he said quietly, his voice near my ear. “It reminds you of home, doesn’t it? You loved the river..”
My chest ached at his words. It was true. I always had. But what I loved most was that he remembered.
I turned to face him fully, my voice soft. “Yes. It does remind me so much of home.”
He smiled, and something in that smile eased the tightness in my chest. He sank down near the tree and gently pulled me with him until I was seated on his lap. The warmth of him against the cool night air made me shiver, though not from the cold.
He reached into his dark cloak and pulled out the book. The worn leather cover caught the silver light of the moon. “Then let’s
read,” he said quietly.
I nodded, unable to stop the smile that rose to my lips. I leaned
closer, until my head rested against his chest. His tunic was soft beneath my fingers, and I could hear his heartbeat, steady at first, then quicker, stronger, as if it were trying to speak for him.
He rested his chin lightly on the top of my head and began to read. His voice was low, careful, the same voice that had once carried across the riverbank when everything between us was simple.
The words from the book were familiar, yet they felt different now. Maybe it was the way he said them, slower, gentler, like each one carried something unspoken.
Butterflies stirred in my stomach. I tried to ignore them, but the warmth of him behind me made it impossible. The rhythm of his voice, the sound of the sea, the faint brush of his breath near my ear, it all blurred together until I could not tell what was the story and what was real.
I tilted my head slightly and glanced up at him. The moonlight touched his face, softening it, and I felt my chest tighten in a way I had not before.
I could not explain what I was feeling. It was quiet but strong, settling deep in my chest and refusing to leave. Everything else faded until there was only his voice and the sound of the sea.
He kept reading, his tone calm and even. I watched him for a
moment, the way his lips moved, the way the light caught his face. Something inside me ached, and I looked away before he
could notice.
The air was cool, but I felt warm. Too warm. His arm brushed against mine as he turned a page, and I forgot to breathe.
For a while, neither of us spoke. Only the waves filled the silence.
I closed my eyes when he began to continue reading. And though I did not understand what it was, I knew I did not want it to end.
CHAPTER FORTY
WILLIAM
This moment felt precious in a way I could not describe. Her resting against my chest, her head just beneath my chin, and the faint scent of the roses lingering in her hair. The night was quiet save for the sea and her soft breathing.
I kept reading, though the words began to blur. My focus was on her, the way her fingers rested lightly on my arm, the way she leaned closer whenever the wind grew colder. I could feel her heartbeat through the fabric of her gown, soft and steady against me.
It struck me then how rare this was. Peace. After everything that had happened, this silence between us felt fragile, like something I
didn’t deserve but would never forget.
