Page 47 of A Kingdom's Heart
When I lowered my hands, the firelight caught the tears still clinging to my lashes. The anger in my chest gave way to something heavier, something that ached.
William.
I thought of the way he looked at me, the softness in his voice, the way his smile always seemed unsure at first, as if he wasn’t used to smiling.
Somewhere between those quiet moments, something had changed. I cared for him. And he, in his own quiet way, cared for me. There was no denying it anymore.
But the thought that followed made my chest tighten until it
hurt.
Would he still look at me that way if he knew?
If he found out I wasn’t Elara the healer, but Princess Iris, the king’s daughter, the girl being bargained away like a coin traded for pace?
The question wouldn’t leave me. It sank deep, cold and
unrelenting. My throat felt tight just imagining his face when he learned the truth. The trust in his eyes. The way it would fade.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, but the ache only grew sharper. Still, beneath the fear, the truth waited quiet and insisted.
He deserved to know.
I turned toward the window. The last light of the day stretched across the sky, turning the glass to gold. The castle was still, the halls hushed in that soft, waiting silence that came before night.
I breathed in, slow and careful.
No matter what it cost me, I had to tell him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IRIS
The moonlight spilled through the window, pale and cold against the floor. I leaned against the frame, my forehead resting lightly on the glass. The castle was silent at this hour. Even the guards’ footsteps had faded from the corridor.
It was well past midnight. I hadn’t joined my father for dinner, and he hadn’t sent for me. No tray. No servant knocking softly at the door. Nothing. He hadn’t cared whether I ate or starved.
My fists curled at my sides. The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.
All night, my mind had been turning over the same thing, the marriage, the threats, and William. How I would tell him the truth. What he would think when he learned who I really was. Would he look at me differently? Would he stop looking at me at all?
The thought made my chest feel tight again, but before I could lose myself in it, a low growl sounded beneath the fabric of my nightgown.
I froze, then let out a quiet sigh. My stomach. Of course.
I tried to ignore it, folding my arms across my chest, but the growl came again, louder this time. I closed my eyes for a moment, defeated.
“Fine,” I muttered softly to myself.
Pushing away from the window, I slipped into my slippers and pulled a light pink shawl around my shoulders. The fire had long died out, leaving the air cool against my skin. I cracked open the door and glanced down the hall.
Empty.
The corridor stretched quiet and still, lit only by a few weak torches. Their flames flickered low, brushing the walls with faint orange light. I walked slowly at first, my footsteps soft against the stone, careful not to wake the guards that sometimes patrolled this side of the castle.
The air smelled faintly of wax and smoke. My shadow moved beside me, long and thin. I turned down the last passage toward the kitchens, where the smell of bread and herbs still lingered from the evening meal.
The door creaked softly as I pushed it open. Inside, the warmth was faint but there. A few coals glowed in the hearth, and the tables were cleared, everything neat and still.
