Page 57 of A Kingdom's Heart
I stood there, frozen, staring at the place where he had been. Then the tears came again, falling one by one, each one sharper than the last.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
WILLIAM
The night was quiet save for the hum of the torches above the front towers. My shift had ended, yet my thoughts refused to rest.
Elara. Or rather, Princess Iris.
The name felt heavy on my tongue, like a truth I had never asked to taste. I had stood there for hours, staring into the dark, but every time I tried to push her from my mind, she returned. The memory of her voice. Her smile. The way she looked at me when she lied.
My stomach twisted. I clenched my jaw, trying to force the thought away. The sweet, soft-spoken healer I thought I knew had been a lie from the start. I had opened up to her, let her in, and all the while she had been the one person in this kingdom I was sworn to protect above all else.
The sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. Another guard approached, nodding to signal the change of shift. I gave a brief nod in return and stepped aside, barely trusting my voice to speak.
The corridor was still when I walked back toward the barracks. My boots echoed against the stone floor, slow and heavy. The air felt thicker the farther I went, as if the castle itself was watching. My anger burned low and steady, but beneath it, something worse
lingered. Hurt.
Every step hurt more than it should have.
I had cared for her. Not the princess. Not the heir to the throne. Just her. The girl who laughed by the river. The one who read from an old book and looked at me like I was something more than a knight.
Now I couldn’t tell which parts of her were real.
When I reached the end of the corridor, the barrack doors came into view. I was too lost in thought to notice anything at first, too caught in the ache of what I had just learned. Then I stopped.
She was there.
At first, I thought the light was playing tricks on me. But then she moved slowly, and the torchlight caught her face.
Princess Iris.
The title felt strange even in my head. It didn’t fit her the wayElaradid. But she stood in front of the door, pale in the torchlight, her long white gown brushing the stone floor. Her hair was loose and slightly tangled, and her cheeks were streaked with what looked like dried tears.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. I couldn’t. My pulse quickened, and my chest tightened with something I couldn’t name. The part of me that still ached for her fought the part that wanted to turn away.
“William,” she said quietly. Her voice was soft, broken at the
edges.
Hearing it again did something to me. It shouldn’t have, but it did. I looked at her, but the words wouldn’t come. The anger that had felt clear hours ago was tangled now, dulled by the sight of her.
She took a hesitant step closer, her fingers twisting in the fabric
of her gown. “Please,” she said. “Just listen to me.”
Her eyes were red and tired, but there was something in them. Something that looked too much like hurt. It made it hard to look away.
I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself. “You shouldn’t be here, Princess.”
She flinched at the word. “Don’t call me that. Not when it’s just
us.”
My jaw tightened. “That’s who you are, isn’t it?”
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the sound of the torches crackling along the wall.
