Page 122 of A Kingdom's Heart
I wanted to look away, to focus on anything else, and then I saw
him.
Standing near one of the marble pillars, dressed in full armor, helm on and posture straight as a blade. Even through the crowd, I knew him. I would know him anywhere. William.
My breath caught in my throat. The light from the chandeliers gleamed faintly off the steel of his armor, but it wasn’t that I saw. It was the way he stood, steady and proud, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him. Even from across the room, my heart knew his presence.
For a moment, I forgot where I was. Forgotten titles, vows, and everything I was supposed to be. I wanted to go to him. To reach for him, just once more.
I turned back to Lorenzo quickly before my thoughts could betray me. “A drink would be nice,” I said, my voice softer than I intended.
He smiled, pleased by the answer. “Excellent,” he said.
Without hesitation, he turned and began to weave through the crowd toward the long table of silver cups and crystal decanters.
As soon as Lorenzo’s back was turned, I exhaled a shaky breath, my pulse hammering so loudly I was certain someone would hear it. I didn’t think. I couldn’t. My feet moved before reason could stop them, slipping through the shifting crowd, past nobles in gold and silk, past the gleaming chandeliers and the sound of laughter that suddenly felt far away.
When I reached him, the words left me in a rush. “William.”
He turned at once, and before I could stop myself, my arms were around him. The cold metal of his armor pressed against my chest, and his arms came around me all the same, strong and sure. For a heartbeat, I let myself breathe. For a heartbeat, I was safe.
I felt the weight of eyes turning toward us, whispers already rippling through the air, but I didn’t care. Not tonight. Not when this could be the last time.
“Come,” I whispered urgently, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Please.”
He didn’t hesitate. He only nodded once, a silent understanding passing between us.
We moved quickly past the crowd until we reached the open balcony. The night air outside was cool, but it felt like the first real breath I had taken all night. The wind brushed against my
bare shoulders, making me shiver, though I hardly cared. All that mattered was him.
The music from the ballroom faded behind us, replaced by the soft rush of the sea below and the faint hum of the night. I turned to face him. My heart was beating so fast and my chest rose too fast. His armor and helm caught the line of the moon, hiding a face I longed to see.
Without speaking, I reached up. My fingers brushed over the cold metal before finding the clasps at the sides. He didn’t move or speak. The soft click as I unfastened it, sounded far louder than it should have. I lifted the helm away and set it carefully on the edge of the balcony.
There he was. His face. His beautiful, beautiful face.
For a heartbeat, we just looked at each other. Neither of us dared to breathe.
Then I stepped closer. My hand touched his jaw, and he leaned into it, eyes softening as he exhaled. My breath trembled, my heart racing faster than ever. I rose on my toes and kissed him.
It was gentle at first before his hand slid to the back of my neck as he drew me closer. The other settled at my waist, firm and steady. The taste of salt lingered on our lips, carried by the sea breeze and maybe the tears I hadn’t realized were falling.
The world around us disappeared. There was no sound but our breathing, no light but the moon, no one but us. His lips movedagainst mine, slow and full of feeling, and I felt something deep in my chest unravel.
When we broke apart, our foreheads stayed pressed together. His hand was still at my waist, holding me there as if letting go would undo everything. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the warmth of his skin, the scent of him, the feel of his arm around me.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, pulling me closer. “More than anything in this world.”
My heart twisted painfully. “I love you too,” I said, my words
barely reaching him. It was all I could manage, and yet it felt like everything.
He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over my jaw. “No matter what happens,” he said softly, “remember that.”
For a moment, I thought he meant to hold me again. But then he stepped back. My eyes opened, confused. He moved toward the balcony railing, standing far too close.
“William,” I said quietly with a shaky voice. “What are you doing?”
