CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
WILLIAM
The moment I saw the masked man grab her, my sword was in my hand.
He was tall and broad, dressed in black, his face hidden behind a rough mask. Iris’s eyes fluttered shut in his hold, and for a split second I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or if he had used something on her.
Rage burned through me.
I charged, closing the distance before he could move another step. The man saw me too late. He dropped her, and I caught her before she could hit the ground. Her body was limp in my arms. I set her down gently and turned back to him.
One strike was all it took. My blade met his chest, and he fell
without a sound.
But the moment he hit the ground, more shadows spilled into the courtyard. Five, then ten, all masked, all armed. The guards shouted, steel clashing against steel, chaos breaking loose across the yard.
I looked down at Iris. Her head rested against my arm, her breathing faint but steady. The sight of her like that made something twist hard inside me.
I had to get her out.
I lifted her into my arms, her white gown streaked with dust. The noise around us grew louder. Arrows hissed through the air, striking walls and shields.
Then I saw Eric, sword already drawn, fighting off one of the masked men near the gates.
“Eric!” I shouted. “Take the princess to safety now!”
He turned, his expression shifting when he saw her. “What happened?”
“Go!” I barked. “Now!”
Eric didn’t hesitate. He sheathed his sword, moved to me, and took her from my arms. “I’ll get her inside.”
I nodded, turning to face the attackers again. My grip tightened around my blade.
But before Eric could reach the doors, a figure broke through the chaos. The man was fast as he charged straight for them.
Eric reacted on instinct. He dropped Iris and drew his sword in the same motion, meeting the man’s strike head-on. The clash of steel rang sharp in the air.
My heart stopped when I saw her fall.
I took a step toward her, but two men cut across my path, blades raised. I blocked the first strike, the force rattling my arm, then turned my blade and caught the second. They pressed hard, one coming from the side while the other swung for my head.
I ducked low and drove my shoulder into the nearest man’s
chest, knocking him back. The other swung again, his blade slicing across my arm. Pain burned hot, but I didn’t stop.
Across the courtyard, Iris lay still where Eric had dropped her. He was locked in combat, barely holding his ground. I couldn’t reach her, not yet.
The man I had shoved lunged again. I turned, parried, then drove my sword through his side. He fell, but before I could move, the second attacker caught my shoulder, dragging me back by the armor. I slammed an elbow into his throat and twisted free.
The courtyard had turned into a war. Smoke stung my eyes and the smell of blood and ash was thick in the air. More guards poured from the castle doors, shields raised, swords in hand. The masked men began to falter, their numbers outnumbered under the king’s men.
I didn’t wait for it to end. I sprinted across the stones, stepping
over fallen bodies until I reached her. She was still lying where Eric had dropped her, pale against the dirt, her hair spread around her like spilled light.
“Your Highness,” I breathed, dropping to my knees beside her. I brushed the hair from her face and pressed my fingers to her neck. Her pulse was there, faint but steady. Relief hit hard enough to steal my breath.
I lifted her into my arms again and turned, running for the castle doors. The sound of battle followed close behind, the clash of
weapons echoing against the walls.
Inside, the corridor was chaos. Servants scattered, shouting. The king stood near the throne room entrance, his face pale with fury and fear.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the noise.
“Attackers,” I said, breathless. “Masked men. They tried to take the princess.”
Before he could respond, the noise outside grew louder, closer. Two guards ran in, blades drawn.
“Protect the king and the princess!” one shouted.
They moved to his side immediately, scanning the hall. One turned to me. “You, knight! Bring her. We’ll take her to the safe hold.”
I nodded, tightening my grip around her. Her head rested against
my shoulder, still unmoving.
Then a voice came from behind. “Iris!”
Raven ran down the hall with wide eyes, clutching her skirts.
“You’re with us,” I said. “Now.”
She didn’t argue. She fell in step beside us as we ran, the guards leading the way through the twisting halls. The air grew colder the deeper we went.
We reached the narrow stone passage that led beneath the castle, toward a bunker built long ago for war. The door was thick iron
and the walls were rough and damp
“Inside,” one guard ordered.
The king stepped in first. Then I stepped in, still holding the princess close. Raven followed, glancing over her shoulder as the door sealed shut behind us with a heavy sound.
The bunker was dusty and smelled of iron.
It was colder in here. The walls were built of rough stone, lined with old shelves stacked with weapons and armor dulled by time.
In the center stood a long table scattered with maps and broken quills, and beside it, a row of small mattresses, old but stable.
The guards lit the torches, casting uneven light across the room.
I carried Iris to one of the mattresses and knelt, lowering her gently onto it. The fabric was torn and dirty, but it would have to do. Her skin looked pale against the dark cloth, her lips faintly parted, her breath slow but steady.
The king came closer, his cloak dragging against the stone. His face was hard to read, caught somewhere between fear and rage. He knelt beside her and shook her shoulder. “Iris,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Wake up.”
She didn’t move.
He looked over his shoulder sharply. “You,” he said to Raven. “Find out what is wrong with her.”
Raven was at her side in a heartbeat. She dropped to her knees, her fingers steady as she brushed the princess’s hair aside. She opened one of Iris’s eyes, checking the pupil before pressing two fingers lightly against her throat. The seconds passed slowly and heavily.
Finally, Raven exhaled. “Her pulse is normal,” she said quietly. “Whatever they used, it wasn’t poison. She’ll wake on her own. They must have given her something to make her weak, easy to carry.”
I felt something inside me loosen at those words. The tension in my chest eased, though I didn’t let it show. My grip on the sword relaxed only slightly, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
The king’s jaw tightened. His hands curled at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking. He stared down at his daughter for a long moment, then gave a short nod and stood.
“Good,” the king said. “She will need her strength when she wakens.”
He turned toward the guards standing by the door. “You two, check if the chaos has settled. If the grounds are safe, return and inform me.”
Then his eyes moved to me. “You stay here.”
I bowed my head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
The guards did the same before hurrying out. The sound of the heavy door closing left a silence that seemed to thicken in the air.
No one spoke. The faint drip of water from the ceiling was the only sound for a long while. The king stood near the table, his shoulders straight but his face drawn. Then, without a word, he lowered himself onto one of the mattresses against the wall. The
torchlight flickered across his features, carving sharp lines of
exhaustion into them.
Raven sat near the princess, her knees drawn close, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She kept glancing at Iris as if expecting her to stir, but she didn’t. Her breathing stayed soft and steady.
Meanwhile, I just stood nearby, sword in hand, eyes sharp.
But my gaze never left her.
She was still motionless, lashes dark against her skin, lips parted just enough to draw slow, steady breaths. Every rise of her chest felt like proof she was still here. Alive.
The minutes dragged on. The king’s eyes were fixed on the stone floor. Raven shifted now and then, the hem of her dress brushing
against the rough ground.
When the sound of footsteps finally came from the tunnel, I turned only slightly. The door opened, and the two guards stepped back inside, their faces flushed but relieved.
“All the attackers are dead, Your Majesty,” one said. “The castle is secure. It’s safe to leave.”
The king rose slowly, his cloak settling around him. He gave a single nod. “Good.”
His gaze dropped to his daughter. For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed his face. Relief Though it was gone as quickly as it came. Then he turned toward the passage. “Then we go.”
Raven stood, gathering her skirts, her expression pale but composed. I adjusted my grip on my sword, the metal cool against my palm, and stepped closer to the mattress.
For a moment, I just looked at her.
Iris was still as stone. Her long lashes rested softly against her undereye, and a faint pink returned to her lips. She looked fragile in a way that didn’t suit her, a kind of stillness that didn’t belong to the girl I remembered by the river.
Without thinking, I sheathed my sword and bent to lift her.
She was light as a feather in my arms, warm against the cold air. A strand of her hair brushed my neck as I straightened, and for a heartbeat, the rest of the world went quiet again.
“I’ll carry her,” I said, my voice low but certain.
The king gave a short nod, already moving toward the tunnel. Raven followed close behind, her pace quick and careful.
I fell in step behind them, Iris held close against my chest. Her head rested near my shoulder, her breathing steady now, soft against my collar.
As we walked toward the light of the hall above, the echoes of battle still hung faintly in the distance. The scent of smoke lingered in the air.
But all I could hear was the rhythm of her breathing and the quiet promise that, for now at least, she was safe.