Page 76 of A Kingdom's Heart
eyes found mine. For a moment, I felt less alone.
The castle gates loomed ahead, tall and carved from silver-gray stone. The walls were high and wide, climbing into the sky like a mountain itself. Banners of blue and silver hung from the towers, their edges fluttering in the breeze.
The guards stationed at the gate wore silver armor inlaid with the crest of Valebran. As we approached, they bowed deeply and pushed the gates open, the sound of metal grinding softly against stone.
“Chin up,” my father murmured. “And stomach in.”
My stomach was already flat, but I did it anyway. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My hands trembled against the folds of my gown. I wanted to cry. I wanted to turn around, to run back to the ship, to anywhere that wasn’t here. But my feet kept moving.
The castle courtyard was wide and filled with sunlight. Fountains lined the center, their water clear and cold, surrounded by beds of white roses. Beyond it, the main doors stood open, revealing a long hall inside. The floor was marble, polished to a shine, and the walls were covered in paintings of Valebran’s kings and queens. The air smelled faintly of salt and flowers.
It was nothing like Elarion. Elarion was old stone and candlelight. This was darker, grander, colder. Every sound seemed
to echo and every step felt too loud.
At the end of the hall stood a pair of enormous doors, silver and tall enough to reach the carved ceiling. Two guards waited before them. They bowed, their hands pressing to their chests, then turned to open the doors.
The sound of them opening filled the air, slow and heavy, revealing the room beyond.
The throne room of Valebran.
And the people who would decide the rest of my life.
CHAPTER THIRTY
IRIS
We stepped through the doors.
The light inside the hall was bright and cold, spilling across polished marble floors. Four figures stood waiting at the end of the long aisle. My father’s hand pressed against the small of my back, firm enough to make me move.
“Chin higher,” he murmured. “Smile wider.”
I obeyed, though it felt like the muscles in my face might break. My heart began to beat faster, the sound of it loud in my ears.
The King and Queen of Valebran stood at the front, their crowns glinting in the light. Beside them was a small girl, no older than ten, dressed in midnight blue silk. And next to her stood a man. Taller than the rest, straight-backed and confident. I didn’t need to be told who he was.
Prince Lorenzo.
The King of Valebran stepped forward first, his expression warm. “Henrik,” he said, clasping my father’s hands in greeting.
“Phelipe,” my father replied, his tone even, the faintest trace of a smile on his face.
The Queen approached next, graceful and composed. My father took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Sonja,” he said.
The young princess curtsied politely, her golden curls shining
beneath the hall’s light.
And then he came forward.
Prince Lorenzo.
I couldn’t look at him at first. I kept my gaze on the floor, on the shifting light that danced along the marble. I already knew who he was. The man my life was tied to now, the man my father had chosen for me. The man I belonged to.
When he stepped before me, I felt his presence before I saw him. The air changed, heavier, closer. He bowed gracefully.
I forced myself to lift my eyes.
