CHAPTER FOUR #2
IRIS
The ride back to the castle felt endless. The sun was up, and the air was damp from last night’s rain. My cloak clung to my shoulders as we passed through the fields and up the long winding road that led to the gates of Elarion.
The castle rose before us, gray and vast against the dull sky.
Its towers pierced the clouds, their tips crowned with banners bearing my family’s crest, a white rose over crossed blades.
The stone walls were slick with rain, darkened by age and strength.
It looked unshakable, eternal, yet to me it had never felt more like a prison.
The drawbridge lowered with a groan of iron chains. The sound echoed through the courtyard as we entered. Guards lined the steps, their armor gleaming, their faces unreadable. I felt their eyes follow me as the captain helped me down from the horse.
No one spoke as they led me through the corridors. The floors were cold beneath my boots, and the air smelled faintly of smoke and damp stone. Every step echoed off the walls, joining the faint ring of metal and the faraway clang of a closing gate.
At last, we reached the throne room.
Two guards pushed open the tall wooden doors. The sound rolled through the chamber like thunder. I stepped inside with my head bowed, my heart thudding painfully.
My father sat upon the high throne, his crown of iron glinting under the torchlight. King Henrik of Elarion. His presence filled the room before his voice did. The guards who had brought me in fell to one knee, bowing deeply.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Raven standing near the far wall. Her dark hair was tied back, her healer’s robe marked with the silver hawk of Valebran. Her eyes met mine for only a second before she looked away.
“Your Majesty,” the captain said, his voice steady but careful. “We found her near the eastern woods. She appears unharmed.”
My father rose from the throne. His movements were sharp and heavy with fury.
“Unharmed,” he repeated, his voice echoing through the hall. “You brought me great scare, Iris.”
I lowered my head. “I am sorry, Father. I—”
“Sorry?” His voice rose, filling the hall. “Do you think sorry erases the danger you caused? Do you think sorry restores what could have been lost if something had happened to you?”
He descended the dais, each step striking the stone. The firelight caught in his eyes, and they burned with anger.
“We are already on the wrong side of two neighboring kingdoms,” he said. “A war could start at any moment. I need you whole, safe, obedient. Because, as I have told you before, once you turn eighteen, a year from now, you will be married to secure
an alliance that will protect this throne.”
My eyes fell to the floor. The words struck harder than his tone. Of course. It had never been about me. Never about love or family. Only power. Only duty.
I said nothing. There was nothing left to say.
He stopped a few paces in front of me. “On your knees,” he ordered.
The room fell silent. Even the torches seemed to stop flickering.
My stomach turned cold. I knew what was coming. I had known since I first stepped through the doors.
I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath. My hands trembled as I lowered myself. The chill of the stone bit through the thin fabric at my knees. I pressed my palms flat against the stone, trying to steady them.
The sound of his footsteps came closer. Then silence.
And then pain.
The strike landed hard across my face. My head snapped to the side, and white heat burst behind my eyes. I did not cry out. I would not give him that.
The sting spread, sharp and deep, from my cheek down to my jaw. My breath came unsteady, the taste of iron at the edge of my tongue.
For a moment, I stayed there, motionless, my eyes closed. The humiliation burned hotter than the pain. I could feel every gaze in the room pressing down on me: the guards, courtiers, Raven. All of them witnesses to my disgrace.
“Open your eyes,” my father said.
I obeyed. My cheek throbbed as I lifted my head. The room wavered slightly, the torchlight blurring around the edges of my vision.
He stared down at me, his expression carved from stone. “As
your punishment, you will assist the healer for the next several weeks. You will tend wounds, clean the infirmary, and remember what it means to serve this kingdom rather than defy it.”
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “Yes, Father.”
He turned slightly, his voice colder still. “Get out of my sight.”
I rose slowly, careful not to meet his eyes again. My legs felt weak and the skin of my face still burned where his hand had struck.
“Raven,” he said, without looking her way. “Take her with you.”
Raven stepped forward at once. She bowed her head to the king, then gently reached for my arm. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I let her guide me toward the doors. The guards opened them without a word, and we stepped out into the corridor. The heavy wood closed behind us with a dull thud that echoed through the stone hall.
The moment we were out of sight, Raven exhaled sharply. “Saints, Iris. Are you alright?”
The question barely reached me at first. The air felt different out there. Cooler, thinner, almost clean after the suffocating weight of the throne room. I swallowed, my throat raw.
A short, bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Do I look alright?”
Raven frowned, her eyes softening. “No. You have a nosebleed.”
“Of course I do,” I muttered, swiping my sleeve across my face. The fabric came away streaked with red. The sting in my cheek pulsed with every heartbeat.
Raven sighed and reached into the pouch at her side. She pulled out a folded cloth and pressed it gently into my hand. “Here. hold that.”
I took it, pressing it against my nose. The cool fabric helped a little.
“Well,” she said after a moment, her tone lighter but not unkind, “looks like you’re stuck with me for the next few days.”
I glanced at her, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. “Looks like I am.”
Raven tilted her head toward the hallway. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before we go to the healer’s wing.”
I followed her down the corridor, holding the cloth to my nose. My cheek still burned, but the bleeding had slowed. The halls were quiet save for the faint echo of our footsteps and the distant hum of voices from the lower levels.
“At least six knights and three dukes need tending today,” Raven said as we turned a corner. “You chose a busy time to get yourself punished.”
I gave a weak laugh. “You make it sound like I planned this.”
She smiled faintly. “You? Sneaking out when your father forbids it? You plan everything, Iris.”
I sighed. “Not this. I just needed to feel something other than these walls.”
Raven didn’t answer right away. She only glanced at me, her eyes softer now, then faced forward again.
We reached the stairway that led down to the healer’s rooms.
The scent of herbs and candle wax drifted up the stone steps. I could already hear the faint sounds of movement below, voices murmuring, metal trays clinking, and water being poured.
Raven paused at the top of the stairs and looked back at me. “Ready?”
I nodded.
She started down first. I followed behind her, keeping one hand on the wall as the light from the upper hall faded. The air grew warmer with every step, carrying the smell of dried herbs and burning oils. My face still ached, but the quiet steadiness of the place eased me a little.
At the bottom, the corridor opened into a wide chamber. Wooden tables lined the walls, and shelves were filled with jars of roots and powders. A few healers were already at work, their voices calm and low. Bowls of water gleamed under the lamplight, and rows of bandages soaked beside them.
Raven led me to an empty table near the back. “You can start here,” she said. “Clean the instruments first. It will keep you busy.”
I gave a small smile. “You always know what to tell me.”
She smiled back, though her eyes stayed serious. “Someone has to.”
I sat down and dipped my hands into a basin of clean water. The surface trembled slightly as I moved my fingers through it. My
reflection wavered, pale and tired, like someone I barely recognized.
For a while, I just listened to the quiet. The soft scrape of metal, the whisper of cloth, and the faint scent of mint and sage filled the air. It was calm here, a different kind of silence than the one in the throne room.
It would have to do for now.