CHAPTER TWO
IRIS
Father would be furious.
He always was when he found out I had slipped beyond the castle walls. His punishments were never light. Last time, I spent a week helping Raven clean the healers wing, scrubbing blood from the floors until my hands ached. Yet I did it again.
My best friend Raven had told me that the theatre in Eldenmark would be performing The Song of the Willow Bride. I had begged her for details until she finally sighed and told me the truth. That was all it took. I needed to see it.
It was the story I had loved most as a child.
A farmer’s son named Mike who fell in love with a queen.
She walked among her people in disguise, and he never knew her name.
Their love was quiet, pure, but the king found out.
The boy was exiled, and the queen was forced to watch him leave.
I used to read it over and over, pretending I was the queen.
Pretending love could be stronger than duty.
It was foolish, I suppose. But I had always found comfort in that story. It made the walls of the castle feel less like a prison.
Now the rain poured hard, soaking through my cloak and dress as I rode. My horse’s hooves struck the muddy road in a steady rhythm. The torch I carried sputtered in the wind, its flame
barely holding. The fields stretched endless and dark around me.
I muttered a curse under my breath when I realized I had gone the wrong way.
The storm had blurred the path, and the forest looked unfamiliar.
My heart quickened. The castle should have been visible by now, its towers were usually bright even through rain.
But there was nothing ahead but darkness and the sound of rain striking leaves.
I pulled the reins and slowed the horse. “Wonderful,” I said softly, though there was no one to hear it. The air was cold against my skin, my hair clinging to my neck. I tilted my head back, staring at the sky, and laughed once, quietly. “You’ve done it now, Iris.”
The torch sputtered, its flame shrinking to a single glow before it vanished into smoke. Darkness swallowed everything. I cursed angrily, clutching the reins tighter.
The road ahead was invisible now. I could only hear the rain, heavy and relentless, pounding against the trees. The storm rolled
closer. Each rumble of thunder seemed to echo through my ribs.
“Please,” I whispered to no one, “just don’t let the lightning find me.”
I rode slower, guiding my horse with what little sense of direction I had left. The forest pressed close on both sides, and the night felt endless. My cloak was already drenched. My hands were numb. I had been riding far too long.
The world felt different in the dark. The silence between thunder made me uneasy, and every shadow looked like movement. I thought of the men at the theatre, their voices, their hands. My chest tightened. The last thing I needed was to meet more like them out here.
A sudden flash tore through the sky, white and violent. The light blinded me, and before I could breathe, another followed, closer this time, splitting the dark with a deafening crack.
My horse screamed. Her muscles tensed beneath me, her head jerking hard. “Easy, girl,” I called, trying to steady her. “Easy!”
She didn’t listen. Panic took her. She reared once, then bolted down the path, hooves pounding against the mud. I gripped the reins with both hands, my heart racing, the world blurring past.
“Stop!” I shouted, but she wouldn’t. The wind tore at my hood, rain cutting against my face. Then another flash burst above us, so close it turned the world white. The thunder came instantly after, shaking the ground.
The horse jolted sideways. My balance slipped. For one breathless moment I was falling, the reins slipping through my fingers. Then I hit the ground hard, the air knocked from my chest.
Pain flared through my shoulder. I gasped and rolled onto my
side. My horse was already running, her dark shape disappearing into the rain.
“No!” I cried, my voice breaking. “Come back! Stop!”
But she didn’t. The sound of her hooves faded into the storm until I was alone, lying in the mud, the rain cold and merciless against my skin.
I scrambled to my feet, mud clinging to my dress. My shoulder throbbed with every movement, but I forced myself upright and turned in a circle, searching the darkness for any sign of shelter. The rain came in sheets now, sharp and cold, stinging my face.
“Hello?” I shouted, my voice raw. “Is anyone out there?”
Nothing. Just the wind moving through the trees.
I tried again, louder this time, but the storm swallowed my words. My heart pounded. The forest looked endless, every tree twisted and black against the flashes of lightning. I wrapped my cloak tighter, though it was soaked through. My teeth began to chatter
Another flash tore across the sky, so bright it turned the world white again. The thunder followed again, closer and more violent.
I flinched and stumbled back, a shiver running through me.
I needed to move. Standing still meant freezing. So I walked. Step after step through the mud, as my boots sank into the earth. My hands trembled, my breath came in short, uneven bursts. I prayed under my breath that I’d find someone, anyone, before the night swallowed me whole.
The rain fell harder. The trees pressed close. Their branches
were heavy with water. Each breath I took burned in my chest.
Then something changed.
A flicker through the dark, so faint I almost missed it. I stopped, blinking against the rain. There it was again, a small, steady glow between the trees.
Light.
My heart kicked against my ribs. I pushed forward, branches scraping my arms, mud pulling at my feet. The glow brightened as I neared, gathering shape and color until I could see it clearly.
A cottage. The windows shone warm against the dark, with soft gold through the rain.
Relief hit so sharply it almost hurt. I let out a broken laugh, half disbelief, half gratitude, and kept walking toward the light. Then I started running.
Branches scraped against my cloak as I hurried forward. My legs ached, but I did not care. The closer I came, the brighter the light grew. It looked lived in. Safe.
Once I reached the door, I knocked gently at first. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
No answer.
I knocked again, harder this time, my hand trembling. Still nothing. The rain beat louder against the roof, and panic rose in my chest.
“Please,” I called. “Someone, please.”
I hit the door again, rougher, desperate now. The latch rattled, and I tried it myself. The door was locked. I pushed once more, ready to call out again, when it swung open.
A figure filled the doorway.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. The light from inside caught the edge of a sword in his hand.
I froze where I stood.
He did not speak. He only watched me. Water dripped from his dark hair, tracing lines down a face I could barely see. His grip on the hilt tightened and he shifted his weight forward as if he expected an attack.
The air grew thin. My pulse thundered in my ears.
He looked ready to kill.
Before I could speak, before I could even breathe, the world seemed to hold still.