Page 63 of A Kingdom's Heart
No one spoke. The faint drip of water from the ceiling was the only sound for a long while. The king stood near the table, hisshoulders straight but his face drawn. Then, without a word, he lowered himself onto one of the mattresses against the wall. The
torchlight flickered across his features, carving sharp lines of
exhaustion into them.
Raven sat near the princess, her knees drawn close, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She kept glancing at Iris as if expecting her to stir, but she didn’t. Her breathing stayed soft and steady.
Meanwhile, I just stood nearby, sword in hand, eyes sharp.
But my gaze never left her.
She was still motionless, lashes dark against her skin, lips parted just enough to draw slow, steady breaths. Every rise of her chest felt like proof she was still here. Alive.
The minutes dragged on. The king’s eyes were fixed on the stone floor. Raven shifted now and then, the hem of her dress brushing
against the rough ground.
When the sound of footsteps finally came from the tunnel, I turned only slightly. The door opened, and the two guards stepped back inside, their faces flushed but relieved.
“All the attackers are dead, Your Majesty,” one said. “The castle is secure. It’s safe to leave.”
The king rose slowly, his cloak settling around him. He gave a single nod. “Good.”
His gaze dropped to his daughter. For a brief moment,
something unreadable crossed his face. Relief Though it was gone as quickly as it came. Then he turned toward the passage. “Then we go.”
Raven stood, gathering her skirts, her expression pale but composed. I adjusted my grip on my sword, the metal cool against my palm, and stepped closer to the mattress.
For a moment, I just looked at her.
Iris was still as stone. Her long lashes rested softly against her undereye, and a faint pink returned to her lips. She looked fragile in a way that didn’t suit her, a kind of stillness that didn’t belong to the girl I remembered by the river.
Without thinking, I sheathed my sword and bent to lift her.
She was light as a feather in my arms, warm against the cold air. A strand of her hair brushed my neck as I straightened, and for a heartbeat, the rest of the world went quiet again.
“I’ll carry her,” I said, my voice low but certain.
The king gave a short nod, already moving toward the tunnel. Raven followed close behind, her pace quick and careful.
I fell in step behind them, Iris held close against my chest. Her head rested near my shoulder, her breathing steady now, soft against my collar.
As we walked toward the light of the hall above, the echoes of battle still hung faintly in the distance. The scent of smoke lingered in the air.
But all I could hear was the rhythm of her breathing and the quiet promise that, for now at least, she was safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
IRIS
At first there was nothing but darkness.
A heavy, quiet kind that felt endless.
Then came the ache. Sharp behind my eyes, spreading slowly through my skull. The world began to form in pieces, blurred and uneven. Shapes moved. Voices whispered.
When I blinked again, the ceiling above me came into focus. Grey. Familiar. The smell of lavender and candle wax hung in the air.
