CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
WILLIAM/IRIS
IRIS
Raven had helped us. Not easily. She had argued, begged even, her voice trembling as she tried to make me stay.
But when I reminded her of the love she once lost, of how she knew what it felt like to ache for someone she could never have, something in her softened.
She had promised not to tell my father, though tears filled her eyes as she watched us leave.
I still saw that image whenever I blinked.
Now I sat wrapped in William’s cloak, staring at the horizon. The air was cold and sharp, biting at my cheeks. The water shimmered like liquid glass beneath the moon, and I tried to steady my breathing against the rhythm of the oars.
William’s movements were calm and even. His arms flexed with every stroke, the quiet splash of water breaking the stillness. After a while, he turned to me, his face half hidden by the shadows.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “We can still go back.”
I met his eyes. “No,” I whispered. “I don’t want to go back.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. I didn’t bother wiping it away. My chest hurt, tight with all the things I couldn’t say. I had made
the right choice, but it was still hard. Harder than I imagined.
William slowed the boat until it drifted gently with the tide. His gaze stayed on me, full of worry and tenderness all at once.
I looked down at the sea, then back at him. “Where will we go?” I asked quietly.
He looked toward the horizon, his jaw tightening as if he were
choosing his words carefully. The boat rocked softly beneath us, the moonlight stretching over the water like a path only we could see.
“A place no one can find us,” he said finally. “My parents’ home. It’s far from the cities, far from civilization.”
My breath caught. I remembered. The same little house I had run into on that stormy night, drenched and trembling, when I first met him.
The smell of the fire, the sound of the rain on the roof, the warmth in his voice when he offered me shelter.
It all came rushing back like a dream I never wanted to end.
I looked at him and the ache in my chest softened just a little. The sea stretched endlessly ahead, but for the first time, it didn’t feel so terrifying.
His eyes met mine again, gentle and sure. The wind caught his hair, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“We’re going home,” he said quietly.
And I believed him.
The boat drifted forward, carried by the tide, until the castle
lights disappeared behind us completely.
WILLIAM
She had chosen me.
The thought alone nearly brought me to my knees.
I watched her for a long while, barely trusting my own eyes. The princess of Elarion had chosen me; a knight, a commoner with nothing but a sword and a fading name to share her life with. She had given up her crown, a palace, and the safety of everything she’d ever known, all for me.
A single tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I let it fall, tasting the salt as it mixed with the sea air. The sound of the waves against the boat filled the silence, soft and steady, like the world itself was holding its breath.
She was asleep now, her head resting on the side of the boat, wrapped in my cloak. The moonlight touched her face, turning her hair pale as silver. I couldn’t look away. Every so often, her lips parted slightly, and she would breathe out a soft sigh.
We had been rowing for decades. My arms ached, but I didn’t care. I would have rowed across the ends of the world if it meant keeping her safe.
—
More time passed. The horizon turned gold, the soft glow of
dawn spreading over the open sea. My arms burned even more with every pull of the oars.
I could feel the muscles in my shoulders tearing, but I didn’t stop.
I had rowed through the night and I would keep rowing as far as it took.
Every stroke took us farther from the life we had left behind. Farther from duty and pain.
The water was calm, glinting like molten glass under the rising sun. She was still asleep beside me, her head still resting against the side of the boat. The sight of her made me forget the ache in my arms. For a few minutes, there was nothing but peace.
A light breeze brushed against my face. Seabirds cried in the distance.
She stirred slightly in her sleep, her hand shifting until it rested near mine.
I watched her for a long time, memorizing the softness of her expression, the faint color of her cheeks.
I had never known something could feel this still, this right.
The sun climbed higher, painting the water in streaks of orange and gold. I slowed the oars, letting the boat drift. I wanted her to rest a little longer. I wanted this moment to last.
Then it happened.
A sharp hiss broke through the air.
Something hit the water beside the boat, sending up a spray of foam. My head snapped toward the sound, my chest tightening. Another hiss followed, then another, each one closer. The sound was all too familiar.
Arrows.
I turned toward the horizon. Far off in the distance, a dark shape was cutting through the sea. The sun glared against its sails, but even from here I could see the symbol painted across them. The crest of Elarion.
Cold dread flooded through me.
Another arrow struck the side of the boat, the wood splintering inches from my hand. I dropped the oars and reached for the sword lying near my feet. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else.
She stirred in her sleep, her brow furrowing. I wanted to tell her to stay down, to stay still, but my voice wouldn’t come. The calm that had surrounded us only moments ago was gone, shattered by the sound of arrows and the splash of water.
The sea, once gentle, now felt cruel and endless.
Another arrow hissed through the air.
And then the world around us erupted.