Page 9 of A Kingdom's Heart
I sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the book. The pages were yellowed, the ink faded at the corners, but the words were still clear. I ran my fingers along the lines I knew by heart and felt a quiet ache rise in my chest.
The story had always been my escape. When I was little, I used to read it by candlelight until my eyes grew heavy. The queen who walked among her people in disguise, the farmer’s son who lovedher without knowing her name, the devotion that cost them everything. I had wanted something like that once, something honest and brave.
Now I was not sure I believed in such things.
I leaned back against the pillows, the candlelight flickering against the walls. My eyes were heavy, my body sore from the ride. Outside, the storm still whispered over the roof.
I only hoped I had not sounded too nervous when I told him my name.Elara.
It was the first that came to mind, the name of the queen from this very tale, a woman who hid her crown beneath a cloak and wandered the world alone. Fitting, perhaps. Yet the word had caught in my throat the moment I spoke it. I had felt the pause hang there, fragile and sharp, like glass waiting to break.
Even now, I could hear my voice echoing back in the silence, and my stomach tightened. If he noticed the hesitation, he had been kind enough not to ask. Still, I could not stop thinking of it, the way the lie had slipped so easily from my tongue.
I closed the book gently and rested my hand on the cover. The warmth from the fire reached faintly through the wall.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the quiet, though I did not know if I meant it for the storm, or for the man who had opened his door to me when he did not have to.
My eyes grew heavier with every blink. The sound of rain
softened, fading into the distance. I pulled the blanket close, feeling its weight settle around me.
Within moments, the night pressed down like a gentle tide, and I drifted into sleep.
—
Morning light pulled me from sleep. For a moment I did not remember where I was. The air was still, touched with the faint scent of smoke and pine. A single candle had burned low beside the bed, its wax pooled at the base.
Then I turned toward the window, and my breath caught.
Mist hung over the fields, silver in the light. Through it, dark shapes moved slowly, their outlines shifting with the fog. At first I thought they were farmers or hunters heading for the woods. Then the sun broke through the clouds, and the light caught on metal.
Armor.
My chest tightened. The gleam of polished steel, the steady formation, the banners moving with the wind.
Guards. My father’s men.
Panic rose sharp and cold, chasing the last traces of sleep from my body. He must have found out. He must have sent them. If they saw me here, if they saw me with William—
I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself. My pulse beat too fast, every breath shallow.
He could not know where I was. He could not know who I was.
I pushed the blanket aside and stood quickly, my bare feet cold against the floorboards. My hands trembled as I looked back toward the door. I did not even know why I was still lying. It had begun as fear, but now it felt like something I could not stop.
I hurried out of the room.
William was already seated on a chair by the hearth, his brown hair still damp, a cup of tea in his hand. He looked up as I entered, his expression softening.
“You’re awake.” he said.
“I have to go.” The words left me faster than I meant them to. My voice sounded tight in my own ears.
He blinked, surprised. “So soon? Don’t you want something to eat first?”
I shook my head, already glancing toward the door. “No. I will eat when I am home.”
He frowned slightly. “The village is far. Let me take you back. The roads are still wet, and—”
