Page 53 of A Kingdom's Heart
By the time we reached my chamber, my heart felt hollow.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IRIS
By the time the tailors had finished, I hardly recognized myself.
The gown was pink, soft and heavy at once. It clung tightly around my waist before falling loose past my legs, the silk pooling faintly at my feet. Silver thread traced the hem and neckline, glinting in the light. They fastened silver jewelry around my wrists and throat, cool against my skin. My hair was brushed smooth, but the tears still came, silent and unending.
When the door opened, my father entered. His crown caught the light, his expression as stern as ever. He looked me over once.
“Come,” he said. “It is time. And get those tears off your face.”
I wiped them quickly, though my hands were shaking. The taste of salt lingered on my lips. He turned without another word, and I followed him into the corridor. Two guards walked beside us, their armor clinking with every step.
The walk felt longer than it should have. My heartbeat filled my ears. I kept my gaze on the floor, afraid that if I looked up, I would start crying again.
When we reached the courtyard, noise met us like a wave.
A tall dais stood in the center, draped in the royal colors of red and gold. The crowd stretched far past the stone walls: lords and ladies dressed in silks, knights lined in their armor, servantsstanding close together, even farmers and merchants from the outer gates. The murmur of their voices filled the air until it almost drowned out my thoughts.
I followed my father toward the platform, each step heavier than the last. My throat felt tight, my stomach twisted into knots. Every sound in the courtyard felt distant. They were all drowned beneath the pounding of my heart.
I prayed he wasn’t here.
That WIlliam had been called elsewhere.
Anywhere but here.
He could not find out like this. Not in front of everyone.
My father climbed the dais, his robes brushing against the stone steps. The guards took their places behind him, their armor catching the morning light. When he spoke, his voice carried through the courtyard, deep and commanding, the voice of a king.
“People of Elarion,” he began. “Our kingdom stands at the edge of change. There are threats along our borders, enemies who would see us weakened. But we will not stand alone.”
The crowd murmured softly, the sound rising and fading like a breath. Then he turned toward me.
His gaze was heavy, sharp as iron. The people followed it. A hundred eyes fell on me where I stood at the base of the dais.
“To secure peace,” he said, “a union has been arranged between our house and that of Valebran.
My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.
“My daughter, Princess Iris of Elarion, will be wed to Prince Lorenzo within the coming days.”
The words echoed through the courtyard and then fell into silence. Even the wind seemed to still. Only the banners above us moved, whispering softly in the air.
My hands trembled at my sides. The world around me blurred. Faces became a sea of shapes and color, until one face broke
through it.
He was there.
William stood among the knights near the front, his armor gleaming beneath the sun. His eyes were fixed on me. Steady. Unreadable.
The noise of the crowd faded. The speeches, the cheers, the scrape of armor. All of it vanished. There was only the distance between us, and the look in his eyes as the truth reached him.
My heart sank.
