Rain fell in silver sheets over the palace courtyard, masking the sound of hurried footsteps. Evelyn and Edward moved like shadows, cloaked and hooded, their lanterns dimmed beneath the storm.
The chapel loomed ahead — tall, solemn, and ancient. The carved angels on its facade seemed to watch them with mournful eyes.
Edward pressed his hand against the heavy oak doors. "No guards tonight," he whispered. "Just as I arranged."
Inside, the chapel smelled of incense and stone. Candles flickered faintly, their light bending through stained glass windows. Evelyn's heart pounded. Her father had once prayed here before leaving for war. Now, she was walking the same path — toward secrets he had died protecting.
They reached the altar. Edward brushed dust from a loose slab of marble. "The bell tolls beneath stone," he murmured. "It must be here."
Together, they pushed. The slab shifted with a low groan. Beneath it lay a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
The air below was cold and still. The deeper they went, the more the walls shimmered with moisture and faint engravings — dates, initials, and forgotten prayers.
Evelyn's lantern flickered. "Edward, do you hear that?"
He stopped. From somewhere below came the faint echo of a bell — dull, distant, and slow.
"Someone's here," he said quietly.
They extinguished their lights. Guided by moonlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling, they moved forward until the passage opened into a wide chamber.
There, amidst broken crates and crumbled stone, stood a rusted table covered with sealed files — military insignias, maps, and coded letters.
Evelyn's breath caught. "These are… my father's reports."
Edward unrolled one scroll, reading aloud.
'Operation Daggerfall — sabotage confirmed within command ranks. Enemy contact: internal.'
He looked up, eyes darkening. "This proves everything."
Evelyn reached for another document — but froze. Footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them.
Edward grabbed her hand, pulling her behind a pillar. A lantern light swayed closer — a man's silhouette appeared.
When he stepped into view, Evelyn's heart nearly stopped.
"General Harrington," Edward hissed under his breath.
The general moved toward the table, rifling through papers. "So the girl was right," he muttered. "The fool left everything down here."
Evelyn's pulse thundered in her ears. Her father had trusted this man — his oldest friend.
Edward's grip tightened around her wrist. "We can't confront him here," he whispered. "He'll destroy the evidence."
Evelyn's eyes glistened with fury. "Then we take it before he can."
When Harrington turned, they struck.
Edward darted forward, snatching the sealed box of documents from the table.
The general spun around, drawing a pistol.
"Traitorous prince!" he roared.
Evelyn threw the lantern at his feet — glass shattered, flames burst across the ground. Smoke filled the chamber as she and Edward ran up the stairway, clutching the box between them.
Behind them, Harrington's voice echoed through the vault:
"You think love will save you? The Crown destroys everything it touches!"
They didn't stop running until the chapel doors slammed behind them. Rain washed the soot from their faces as they gasped for breath.
Evelyn looked at Edward — soaked, trembling, but alive. "He called you a traitor."
Edward met her eyes. "Then I'll wear the title — for you."
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause. The thunder rolled above, their hands still joined. And in that fleeting moment of danger, something deeper than fear sparked between them — unspoken, undeniable.