Page 117 of A Kingdom's Heart
My father stepped inside.
He filled the doorway, dressed in his formal attire, the crest of Elarion glinting on his chest. His face was calm, unreadable, though his eyes were sharp as they swept across the room before landing on me.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. The only sound was the faint rustle of silk and the pounding of my heart.
He gave a single nod, the kind that left no room for choice. “It’s time.”
And just like that, the last piece of air left my lungs.
This was it.
The moment he took my arm, my life would no longer be mine.
I looked down at the gown, at the diamonds, at the glimmering white fabric that felt more like a chain than a dress.
And I knew that once I stepped through that door, there would
be no turning back.
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
WILLIAM
The courtyard was alive with noise. Bells rang from the towers, their sound carrying across the city. Silk banners hung from the walls, bright in the morning light. The air smelled of roses, sea salt, and burning candles. People gathered shoulder to shoulder, whispering, smiling, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
And I stood among the guards.
My armor felt heavier than ever. The helm hid my face, which was good because I could not trust myself to look calm. The others stood tall beside me, proud to serve, proud to witness history. But all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest.
The prince was already on the dais beside the priest. King Phelipe stood next to him with a proud expression and hands folded behind his back. The blue and silver decorations glittered in the sun. It should have been beautiful, but to me it looked like a cage.
This was not the life I imagined. I never thought I would fall in love with someone far above my station. I never thought I would have to stand and watch her marry a man chosen by her father.
Iris had not arrived yet. The long path of petals leading to the
dais was empty. I stared at it until my chest ached. My heart beat faster with every passing second.
This was the worst day of my life.
When it was over, I would stay until the ball if I could. Then I would leave. I would take the small boat waiting at the edge of the bay and sail away. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far.
I would go back to my parents’ home. The small cottage in the deserted area, the one Iris first ran into when she came to me as Elara the healer. It was quiet there, untouched by crowns or courts. I thought maybe I could find peace there, but even that house would remind me of her.
Everything would carry her memory. I could almost see her there again, draped in a wet cloak as she sat by the fire to dry herself. The thought hurt more than any wound I had ever taken.
Even if I waited my whole life for her, I knew the truth. That chance might never come. A princess belonged to a prince. And any man who dared love her was a fool who challenged the throne itself.
Just then, the heavy bells began to ring. Their deep sound echoed through the courtyard, rolling across the stone walls and the gathered crowd. The signal that the bride was coming.
My hand tightened on the hilt of my sword until my knuckles turned white. I told myself to stay calm, to breathe, to stand tall and still like every other guard. My heart was a storm beneath the
the armor, but I could not let it show.
Then she appeared.
Iris stepped into the courtyard beside her father. The light caught her as if the heavens themselves had turned to look. For a moment, the crowd, the bells, even the priest faded into silence. She looked ethereal, almost unreal, like something from a dream. Her gown shimmered with silver thread that glowed beneath the morning sun. Her pale hair fell long down her back, brushed smooth and held by pins of silver and crystal that caught the light with every step.
She walked slowly, her chin lifted, her hand resting lightly on her father’s arm. Each step looked graceful and measured, but I saw the faint tremor in her hands, the way her breath shook as she neared the dais.
