The palace slept under the sound of falling rain.
Lanterns flickered in the corridors, their golden light trembling on the wet stone.
Prince Edward walked silently through the lower wing, his cloak brushing against the floor as he approached the Royal Archives — a place forbidden to anyone without written permission from the Crown.
He carried none.
At the door, a single guard stood. Edward handed him a folded note. "You never saw me."
The guard hesitated, then nodded and turned away.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and ink.
Rows of shelves stretched into shadow, filled with the memory of centuries. Edward moved with purpose, tracing his fingers along the spine of bound reports until he found the label: Dawnveil Operations.
But the ledger he sought — the one marked Field Report 72-A, Colonel W. Hartley — was gone.
Someone had removed it.
He exhaled sharply and leaned against the shelf. "Too late," he muttered. "Someone's covering their tracks."
Back in her chamber, Evelyn couldn't sleep.
The storm outside felt alive — thunder rolling like the growl of something waiting to strike.
When she heard a soft knock, she froze.
"Who is it?"
"Edward."
She opened the door to find him half-soaked, his hair damp and his expression grim.
"You've been out there?" she asked.
He nodded. "The report's missing. Someone knew we were looking."
Evelyn stepped aside to let him in. The candlelight cast soft shadows on his face — he looked different without his princely armor of formality, human in a way she wasn't prepared for.
"Do you think the Queen—"
"I don't know," he interrupted gently. "But someone close to her."
For a moment, neither spoke. The rain filled the silence between them, soft and relentless.
Edward's eyes drifted toward the fire. "There's something I didn't tell you," he said. "The last time I saw your father, I was twelve. He saved my life."
Evelyn turned sharply. "What?"
"There was an ambush on the western front. My carriage was attacked on the way to the frontlines. He pulled me from the wreckage."
His voice faltered. "I owe him everything."
Her anger melted into something gentler. "Why didn't you say this before?"
"Because I didn't want you to think I was helping out of guilt."
She stepped closer, her eyes searching his. "And are you?"
"No," he said softly. "I'm helping because I believe in you."
Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a heartbeat.
Evelyn's breath hitched as their eyes met — two souls standing between duty and desire.
Neither moved. The distance between them was small, charged, alive.
"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.
"I know."
"Then why are you?"
He smiled faintly. "Because I can't seem to stay away."
The air trembled. The fire crackled.
For one suspended second, the world outside ceased to exist — no war, no betrayal, no crown — only the fragile warmth between them.
Then Edward turned away, as though afraid the moment might break something sacred.
"I'll find the missing report," he said, his voice quiet again. "Even if I have to defy every law of this palace."
Evelyn watched him go, her heart beating painfully in her chest.
Outside, the rain began to ease — leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps and the faint scent of rain and smoke.Author's Thoughts – Chapter 6
This chapter explores emotional intimacy without confession — the ache of what's felt but unspoken.
Edward's vulnerability reveals his humanity, while Evelyn begins to see the man beneath the crown.
The missing report ties them closer in both danger and devotion.
Every choice Edward makes from this point on will draw him deeper into love — and rebellion.