Page 28 of A Kingdom's Heart
It ran wide and calm, the surface bright with sunlight. The sound of water moving over stone was faint but clear, a sound I knew by heart. My chest tightened. I hadn’t seen this place in years, not since Father forbade me to leave the castle.
I stopped walking. Raven turned to look at me, puzzled.
The riverbank spread out before us, wildflowers scattered along
the edge. And there, hanging from the old oak, were the two swings. The ropes looked worn, the wood dark from rain, but they were still there.
“I used to come here all the time,” I said softly. “Before.”
Raven frowned slightly. “Before what?”
“Before he said I couldn’t.”
I set the basket down, my fingers brushing the handle. The air felt lighter here, familiar in a way nothing in the castle ever was.
Raven’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Can we stay,” I asked, turning to her, “just for a few minutes?”
She looked at me for a moment, then sighed, though there was a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “A few minutes.”
I smiled and stepped toward the swings. The ropes were rough beneath my hands, the wood worn smooth from years of use. I brushed a few leaves from the seat before sitting down. The moment I pushed off the ground, the swing moved, slow at first, then higher, the wind lifting strands of my hair.
Raven laughed softly and took the one beside me. “You used to come here a lot, didn’t you?”
“All the time,” I said, my feet brushing through the grass. “If you swing far enough and jump at the wrong moment, you’ll fall right into the river.”
Raven’s eyes widened. “You tried that?”
“Once,” I said, smiling faintly. “It hurt.”
She burst out laughing, the sound soft and genuine. “Saints, you must have been fearless.”
“Or foolish,” I said, though my smile lingered. For a moment, I could almost see the child I used to be. Carefree. Unwatched. Alive.
The water shimmered below us, sunlight breaking over the surface in ripples of gold. The breeze carried the faint scent of wildflowers, the sound of leaves moving like whispers above our heads. For a moment, it almost felt like the world outside the castle didn’t exist.
Then the quiet shifted.
At first, it was only a faint rhythm beneath the wind. Then it grew stronger. The sound of hooves on packed earth, slow and steady.
Raven stopped swinging. “Do you hear that?”
I did. The sound pressed through the calm, coming closer. My hands tightened around the rope, my body going still.
The forest seemed to hold its breath. Even the river sounded distant now, buried beneath the rhythm of approaching horses. I felt my pulse rise, each beat sharp against my ribs.
Raven stood beside me, her voice low. “Travelers, maybe?”
“Maybe,” I said, though the word came out thin.
The soundgrewlouder,breakingthroughthetrees.Sunlight
flashed against metal. I caught the shape of armor first, then the glint of reins, and finally the outlines of two riders moving through the shadows.
One of them rode a dark horse, tall and powerful. The rider sat straight, calm, his hand steady on the reins. Even from a distance, something about him made my breath catch. The sharp jaw. The dark hair. The quiet focus in his eyes.
