Page 82 of A Kingdom's Heart
My chest tightened. “Raven, don’t say that. I don’t care about your title. You’re my friend.”
She looked down, her voice small. “Still no. I’d rather eat by myself tonight.”
I hesitated but nodded. “Alright. But tell me if you need me, okay? You can come to me whenever.”
She nodded once. I leaned forward and hugged her tightly. She didn’t say anything, but I felt her grip my hand before letting go.
I stood, smoothing my skirt and glancing toward the fading light outside. Then I gave her one last look before turning toward the hall. The castle was quiet, and my footsteps echoed softly as I made my way to dinner.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
IRIS
I sat at the long table, my hands folded neatly in my lap. The hall shimmered beneath the glow of silver chandeliers, the air filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Across the table, King Phelipe rose from his seat, his goblet raised high.
“My friends,” he said, his voice carrying easily through the room, “it brings me great joy to announce that the wedding between our beloved Prince Lorenzo and Princess Iris of Elarion will take place in less than seven days.”
A wave of cheers followed, loud and bright against the marble walls. Laughter filled the air. Goblets clinked. Music stirred in the corners.
I tried to smile. I tried to look every bit the happy bride they all expected. But my chest tightened instead.
Seven days. Only seven days until everything changed.
Lorenzo turned toward me, his smile wide and polished. He slipped an arm lightly around my shoulders, the movement practiced, effortless. The guests cheered louder at the sight. The sound pressed against me until I could hardly breathe.
I kept my head lifted, my face calm, my hands steady in my lap. But inside, everything trembled. His touch felt foreign, too gentle, too sure. My stomach knotted.
Across the room, beyond the flicker of candlelight, my eyes found him.
William.
He stood among the guards, helm tucked beneath his arm, posture straight, gaze fixed ahead. His expression didn’t waver, didn’t shift. He could have been carved from stone.
Still, the sight of him made my breath catch. For one fleeting moment, I wanted him to look at me. To see me. To seeher, the girl from the river, the one who had once made him smile.
But he didn’t.
He never looked my way.
A duty. The words echoed in my mind, sharp and cold.
Fine then. I would play my part.
I turned toward Lorenzo and leaned closer until my head rested lightly against his shoulder. The movement was small but deliberate. He smiled, clearly pleased, his hand tightening gently at my waist. The crowd clapped again, delighted.
The noise blurred around me. The music, the voices, the laughter. It all melted into a dull hum.
When the servants brought out another round of food, I focused on the simplest thing I could. The tray nearest to me gleamed with sugared figs, their syrup catching the light.
“They look good,” I said softly, because I needed to say something. Anything.
Lorenzo followed my gaze, amusement tugging at his lips. “Do they now?”
“Yes,” I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “They do.”
He picked one up delicately and held it toward me. “Then try one, my lady.”
For a moment, I hesitated. Then, because there was no choice, I leaned forward.
