Page 120 of A Kingdom's Heart
The room felt colder the moment he left. For a second, no one moved. Then the servants hurried to my side, their hands gentle but frantic as they dabbed at my face with handkerchiefs and cloths. Their voices were quiet, trembling, as if even the sound of their sympathy might anger him if he returned.
Raven stood where she was, her eyes full of sorrow. “You’re allowed to cry,” she whispered.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady my voice. “I know,” I
said softly. “But I can’t. Not now. Maybe once the ball is over.”
The words came with a nervous laugh, one that sounded wrong even to my own ears. None of this felt real, and yet I was trapped inside it.
Raven’s face didn’t change. She stepped closer, the faint rustle of her dress the only sound in the room, and before I could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around me.
For a heartbeat, I stood still, and then I melted into her embrace. My arms went around her, holding her as tightly as she held me. The tears came again, hot and heavy, soaking into her shoulder.
Raven’s breath hitched, and soon her own tears began to fall. “Oh God,” she said with a broken laugh, “I need to stop crying. I’m making this about myself.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, please don’t say that,” I whispered. “We’ve both lost pieces of ourselves today.”
Her arms tightened around me again, and I held her close, my heart aching in ways I didn’t know it could.
We stayed like that for another long moment, neither of us speaking. The air in the room felt heavy with unspoken words and grief neither of us knew how to name.
Then slowly, Raven loosened her hold. I did too. We stepped back, and I turned toward the mirror again.
The servants were waiting, hands trembling as they lifted fresh handkerchiefs to my face again. They dabbed carefully at the corners of my eyes, brushing away the last traces of my tears untilmy skin was smooth again. I watched them in the reflection, watched as they erased the only proof that I was breaking inside.
Raven stood behind me, her expression soft but full of worry. I gave her a small nod, though my chest felt like it was caving in.
When the servants finally stepped back, I drew in a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. My reflection stared back at me, a princess dressed in silver and pink, eyes dry, lips calm. Someone who looked ready. Someone who wasn’t me.
“I’m ready,” I said quietly.
The servants bowed their heads and moved toward the door. Raven’s eyes glistened, but she didn’t say a word.
I turned away from the mirror, forcing one last breath into my lungs, and walked out to face the life I never wanted.
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
IRIS
The sound of my father’s boots echoed beside mine as we walked down the long, candlelit corridor. The hall was silent save for the faint murmur of music drifting from beyond the great doors at the end. My gown brushed the marble floor, heavy and soft, and my pulse thudded in my ears with every step.
When we reached the doors, my father stopped. His hand
gripped my bare arm, tightly. I turned my head to meet his sharp gaze.
“You will smile,” he said in a low voice. “You will tell everyone how honoured you are to be a part of this union. Do you understand?”
It took all my strength to nod. “Yes, Father.”
His expression softened only slightly. “Good.”
The grand doors opened with a deep, echoing creak, and light flooded the corridor. My heart skipped a beat.
“Go,” he said simply.
I stepped forward.
A herald standing at the threshold raised his voice, clear and strong, announcing, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Iris of Elarion.”
