Page 62 of A Kingdom's Heart
Inside, the corridor was chaos. Servants scattered, shouting. The king stood near the throne room entrance, his face pale with fury and fear.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the noise.
“Attackers,” I said, breathless. “Masked men. They tried to take the princess.”
Before he could respond, the noise outside grew louder, closer. Two guards ran in, blades drawn.
“Protect the king and the princess!” one shouted.
They moved to his side immediately, scanning the hall. One turned to me. “You, knight! Bring her. We’ll take her to the safe hold.”
I nodded, tightening my grip around her. Her head rested against
my shoulder, still unmoving.
Then a voice came from behind. “Iris!”
Raven ran down the hall with wide eyes, clutching her skirts.
“You’re with us,” I said. “Now.”
She didn’t argue. She fell in step beside us as we ran, the guards leading the way through the twisting halls. The air grew colder the deeper we went.
We reached the narrow stone passage that led beneath the castle, toward a bunker built long ago for war. The door was thick iron
and the walls were rough and damp
“Inside,” one guard ordered.
The king stepped in first. Then I stepped in, still holding the princess close. Raven followed, glancing over her shoulder as the door sealed shut behind us with a heavy sound.
The bunker was dusty and smelled of iron. It was colder in here. The walls were built of rough stone, lined with old shelves stacked with weapons and armor dulled by time. In the center stood a long table scattered with maps and broken quills, and beside it, a row of small mattresses, old but stable. The guards lit the torches, casting uneven light across the room.
I carried Iris to one of the mattresses and knelt, lowering her gently onto it. The fabric was torn and dirty, but it would have to do. Her skin looked pale against the dark cloth, her lips faintly parted, her breath slow but steady.
The king came closer, his cloak dragging against the stone. His face was hard to read, caught somewhere between fear and rage. He knelt beside her and shook her shoulder. “Iris,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Wake up.”
She didn’t move.
He looked over his shoulder sharply. “You,” he said to Raven. “Find out what is wrong with her.”
Raven was at her side in a heartbeat. She dropped to her knees, her fingers steady as she brushed the princess’s hair aside. Sheopened one of Iris’s eyes, checking the pupil before pressing two fingers lightly against her throat. The seconds passed slowly and heavily.
Finally, Raven exhaled. “Her pulse is normal,” she said quietly. “Whatever they used, it wasn’t poison. She’ll wake on her own. They must have given her something to make her weak, easy to carry.”
I felt something inside me loosen at those words. The tension in my chest eased, though I didn’t let it show. My grip on the sword relaxed only slightly, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
The king’s jaw tightened. His hands curled at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking. He stared down at his daughter for a long moment, then gave a short nod and stood.
“Good,” the king said. “She will need her strength when she wakens.”
He turned toward the guards standing by the door. “You two, check if the chaos has settled. If the grounds are safe, return and inform me.”
Then his eyes moved to me. “You stay here.”
I bowed my head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
The guards did the same before hurrying out. The sound of the heavy door closing left a silence that seemed to thicken in the air.
