CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
IRIS
Lorenzo was still smiling as he fed me another piece of bread. I smiled too, though it felt faint, practiced. The villagers watched us closely, whispering to one another as they passed.
Then I looked up.
And saw him.
William stood a few feet away, half hidden, leaning against a wooden stall. His arms were crossed, his shoulders tense beneath the armor, his expression carved in stone. The only thing that gave him away was the faint spark in his eyes. Anger. Quiet but sharp.
It wasn’t new. He had looked the same all morning. Angry in the carriage. Angry when Lorenzo approached me after the servants had finished dressing me. Angry now.
My smile faltered before I could stop it.
For a moment, neither of us looked away. His gaze held mine, steady and unflinching, and something inside me twisted. I turned back to Lorenzo before he noticed, forcing another polite smile when he said something about checking another stall.
“I’ll be right back,” he said warmly, brushing his fingers against
mine before walking off.
As soon as he turned away, I looked back. William was still staring.
And just like that, every memory from the night before came rushing back. His voice, cold and distant. The way he said I was nothing more than duty. The way I’d told him to leave. The look in his eyes before he did.
A dull ache pressed at my chest. I told myself I shouldn’t care. That I had every reason to be angry with him after the way he’d spoken to me. But guilt crept in anyway, soft and slow.
He had only been trying to follow orders. And I had thrown him out like he meant nothing.
The market noise dimmed around me, fading into a distant hum. My steps slowed as I moved toward him, unsure what I was even going to say.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He only watched as I came closer, the muscles in his jaw tight, his eyes darker than I remembered.
When I finally stopped in front of him, the space between us felt heavy. Too heavy.
“William,” I began quietly, taking a small step closer. “About last night—”
His gaze cut to mine, sharp and sudden, silencing me before I could finish. The look in his eyes was enough to make my breath catch. It wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper, something raw and unguarded that flickered only for a second before hardening again.
I flinched, my words faltering.
He spoke finally, his voice low and tight. “There’s nothing to talk about, Your Highness.”
The title hit like a slap. Cold. Deliberate.
My chest tightened, the sting of it lighting something sharp inside me. “What?” I said, my tone rising before I could stop it.
He didn’t answer. His eyes were still fixed on me, his silence louder than any insult. The muscles in his jaw worked as if he were holding something back.
I took a breath, anger creeping in to hide the hurt. “Well, then why have you been looking so angry all day?” I asked.
Still nothing. Not a word.
I took a slow breath, anger creeping in to hide the ache beneath it. “You’ve been looking angry all day,” I said quietly. “In the carriage, at the castle, even now. I’ve seen it. So what is it, William? Why have you been looking like that if there’s nothing to talk about?”
Still nothing. Not a word. His silence cut deeper than if he’d shouted.
The space between us felt like it was closing in, filled with things neither of us dared to say. My pulse thudded in my ears, my voice lowering to something softer, steadier. “If you hate me, then
then say it,” I said. “But stop looking at me like that.”
He didn’t move. His arms stayed cross and his gaze stayed locked on mine, unflinching. It burned through me, cold at first,
then something else entirely.
I swallowed hard, refusing to look away. “If I’m just your duty, then do your duty. Stop acting like I’m worth looking at.”
Still, no answer. His eyes lingered on me for a heartbeat, then he turned and started walking away.
“Come back here!” I called after him, my voice loud enough for people to turn and stare.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back. He just kept walking, his steps steady and unhurried, until he disappeared into the crowd.
My chest ached with the words I wanted to say caught in my throat. Before I could move, Lorenzo’s voice came from behind me. “There you are,” he said with a bright smile, his arm slipping easily around my waist.
I forced a nod, trying to steady myself.
“Where to next, my lady?” he asked.
“To the castle,” I said quickly.
He tilted his head. “So soon?”
“Yes. I’m not feeling too well.”
Concern flickered across his face, though it looked practiced. “Very well then.” He offered his arm again. “Let’s get you back.”
He guided me through the crowd. The air smelled of salt and spice, but I could hardly focus. My thoughts were still on William, on the look in his eyes before he walked away.
When we reached the carriages, the guards were already waiting.
Sunlight glinted off their armor as they moved aside to let us pass.
William was seated inside ours. His posture was rigid, his hands resting on his knees.
When our eyes met, I felt my breath catch.
His expression was cold, distant, but his gaze didn’t waver.
A day ago, he could barely look at me. Now, he didn’t seem able to look anywhere else.
Lorenzo helped me up the step and took his seat beside me. The guards followed, closing the door behind them.
“Let’s ride,” Lorenzo said.
The driver gave a sharp nod, and the carriage began to move, wheels rumbling softly over the stone road.
Lorenzo’s arm slid around my waist, steady and sure, pulling me
closer to him as the carriage swayed. His tone was light when he spoke to one of the guards, but I could feel how close he was, how every inch between us disappeared.
Across from me, William’s gaze hardened. He said nothing, yet I could feel it. Sharp, heavy, and fixed on me. His eyes held the same coldness he’d worn all day, but beneath it, something else lingered, something that made it difficult to breathe.
I kept my eyes on my hands, fingers twisting together in my lap. I looked down at my hands, my fingers twisting together in my lap. I wanted to tell him to stop staring. I wanted him to say something. Anything. But not here. Not in front of Lorenzo.
So I sat still, silent, as the wheels rolled on, the air inside the carriage thick with words neither of us could say.