My heart hits the floor so hard that I’m sure the whole palace heard. I’m frozen in place.
Who could it be? Which king is waiting outside my door?
The funny thing is, I’m not exactly sure who I want it to be. Or what I want to happen when I open it. Or if I have the strength to resist whoever is on the other side.
Then comes another knock, and it jolts me out of my paralyzation.
“Coming,” I say quietly.
I pad over to the door and try turn the knob, but my hand is clammy with sweat. Why am I so nervous? I rub my palm on my dress, then try again.
When I finally open the door, he’s there.
My Robin.
But there’s something wrong with his face. It’s puffy and stained by the tracks of freshly fallen tears.
Tears I caused.
“Robin,” I whisper, “are you okay?”
He shakes his head slightly
