CHAPTER FORTY THREE
IRIS
I lay still with my head resting on William’s bare chest, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. His arms were around me, heavy and warm, holding me close as if the world outside did not exist.
Neither of us had moved for hours. The quiet felt endless, peaceful in a way I never thought peace could be. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, a sound I could have listened to forever.
Then came the knock.
I flinched, my heart lurching. Another knock followed, firmer this time. “Your Highness?” a voice called through the door.
I sat up quickly, panic sparking through me. William was already awake, his eyes sharp though his body stayed still.
“They are going to open the door,” I whispered. My voice trembled.
He glanced at the handle, then at me. The knock came again.
“Just a minute!” I called louder this time.
I turned to him, my pulse racing. “You need to put on your armor. Quickly.”
He nodded once, silent but focused. He reached for his tunic, slipping it over his head in one swift motion. The faint light caught the silver of his armor as he fastened each piece, his movements quick but precise.
The knock came again, impatient now.
“Hurry,” I whispered.
He secured the last clasp, then took his helm from the table and pulled it on. Within seconds, he looked every bit the knight he was supposed to be.
When he finished, he crossed the room and took his post near the balcony door, standing tall and composed as if nothing had happened at all.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in my chest. My lips still tingled from his kiss, and my heart was beating far too fast.
“Come in,” I finally said, forcing my voice steady.
The door creaked open, and two servants stepped inside, bowing their heads politely. One of them, a young man in a green livery, glanced briefly at William before speaking.
“Sir William, His Majesty requests your presence,” he said. “You are to join the other guards in preparation for tomorrow’s station at the wedding.”
The word wedding struck like a stone to my chest. For a moment, the world seemed to quiet. I had almost forgotten about it, forgotten that in less than a day I was to stand beside Lorenzo, wear white, and vow myself to him before the entire court.
My breath caught, and I looked toward William. His expression didn’t change, though something flickered behind his eyes. He
gave a short nod, his voice calm. “Understood.”
He turned to me for only a second. It was brief, but I saw it, the faint ache in his eyes, the same one that was now in my own heart. Then he slipped past the servants and out the door. The sound of his boots faded down the corridor until there was nothing left but silence.
The servant turned to me. “Your Highness, His Majesty also asks that you begin practicing your vows. The royal scribe is preparing the final script, and the king wishes for you to be ready by this evening.”
I nodded faintly, though my chest felt hollow. “Of course.”
They bowed again and left me alone in the room.
I stood there for a moment longer after the servants left. The room was quiet, yet my heart was not. It pounded so hard it hurt. The thought of tomorrow, of vows and ceremony, pressed down on me until I could barely breathe.
Then the door opened again.
I turned, startled, and saw Lorenzo step inside. He held a small mug in his hand, steam rising faintly from it. His smile was calm, too calm, as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed.
“Tomorrow,” he said, his tone light, “our kingdoms will finally be united.”
He slipped an arm around my shoulders. I stiffened at his touch, my breath caught somewhere in my throat.
He held out the mug toward me. “Drink this.”
I looked down at it, uncertain. “What is it?”
He smiled, as though the answer were obvious. “A tea with a special herb. Every queen and princess in Valebran drinks this before her wedding night. It ensures she bears a son.”
My eyes widened. “A son?” I repeated quietly.
“Yes,” he said. “When you drink this, you secure our future. Our heir. My mother drank this before she married my father, and not long after, she bore me.”
I could barely find my voice. The steam from the mug curled between us, sweet but bitter in scent. My stomach turned.
He looked at me expectantly, smiling, but all I could feel was the fear growing in my chest.
When he noticed I wasn’t moving, his smile thinned. Slowly, he lifted the mug closer until the rim brushed my lips.
“Drink,” he said.
I froze. The scent of the liquid turned in my stomach. My body refused to move, my hands trembling slightly at my sides.
“Lorenzo,” I said, my voice unsteady. “I just need to step out for a moment.”
His expression changed in an instant. “I’m sure nothing is more important than securing an heir,” he said sharply.
Before I could take a step back, he moved closer. His hand came up behind my neck, the other still holding the mug. “Drink,” he
repeated, firmer this time.
I shook my head, panic rising. “Please—”
He didn’t listen. The mug pressed against my mouth, the bitter liquid spilling past my lips. I tried to turn away, to spit it out, but his grip tightened. He clamped his hand over my mouth, forcing me to swallow. The taste was sharp and metallic, burning as it went down.
When I finally gasped for breath, he lowered the cup, his eyes calm again as if nothing had happened. “Good,” he said quietly.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” Lorenzo said calmly, as if nothing had just happened.
He set the empty mug on the table and walked to the door. His steps were steady, quiet, and deliberate. The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt far too gentle for what he had done.
I stood there frozen. My throat burned from the taste of the drink, and my heart beat so hard it made my chest ache. The room felt smaller, colder. I wanted to move, to scream, but I couldn’t.
I didn’t want this. Not the gown. Not the vows. Not the man. None of it.
Tomorrow . The word echoed in my mind. Only one day left. One
day until I was no longer free. One day until I married someone I didn’t love.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. My heart belonged to someone else. It always would. The thought
made my throat tighten.
And then, the realization came, sudden and sharp. After the wedding, my father would return to Elarion. He would take his guards and his servants with him. That meant William would leave too.
My pulse quickened. That might be the last time I ever saw him. The last time I would hear his voice or feel his arms around me. The thought was unbearable.
Anger replaced fear. It burned through the haze of panic until I could almost feel it in my fingertips. I needed to speak to my father. He had to listen this time. He had to understand.
He had ignored me before, brushed off my pleas as childish worry, but this was different. I couldn’t let him decide my life for me. Not now. Not when my heart already belonged to someone else.
I took a deep breath, my hands trembling into fists at my sides. Tomorrow might change everything, but tonight, I might have a chance to fix this.
I needed to find him.