The air in the palace corridors felt thick and suffocating. News of Prince Henry's adoption—a secret buried for decades—had breached the palace walls like a collapsing dam. Sophia could feel her pulse racing in her throat as she looked at Henry. Outside, the heavy tolling of the tower bells signaled that the internal hunt had begun.
"Henry, we have to act now," Sophia whispered, her voice low but sharp with urgency. "The Queen won't let you walk away with this information. To her, you are either a threat to the throne's legitimacy or a pawn she must lock away forever."
Prince Henry nodded, his jaw set in a hard line of determination. The grief of the revelation had been replaced by a cold, survivalist instinct. "I know. My entire life here has been a carefully constructed lie, Sophia. I won't let them write the ending of my story too."
They sprinted through the labyrinthine hallways, their boots echoing against the cold marble floors. Shadows stretched long under the flickering candlelight of the wall sconces. As they neared the Great Hall, aiming for the western exit, the heavy thud of marching boots cut them off. Lord Thomas stood there, flanked by a dozen armored guards, his hand resting ominously on the hilt of his sword.
"Halt!" Lord Thomas bellowed, his voice booming through the high ceilings. "By order of Her Majesty, Prince Henry is to be detained. Step aside, Sophia, or be branded a conspirator."
"Get out of our way, Thomas!" Henry shouted, but the guards leveled their pikes.
Sophia grabbed Henry's arm, pulling him backward into a side servant's passage just as the guards lunged. They scrambled up a narrow spiral staircase, their lungs burning, until they reached a high gallery overlooking the gardens. They were trapped—guards were closing in from both ends of the hall.
"The window, Henry! It's the only way!" Sophia pointed to a large, arched casement. Without hesitating, they climbed onto the stone ledge and leaped. They tumbled through the air, landing hard in the thick, manicured hedges of the palace gardens below.
Scratched and breathless, they scrambled to their feet and ran toward the perimeter gates, but the night was suddenly illuminated by dozens of torches. The Queen herself stood in the center of the grand walkway, her crimson gown looking like a pool of blood in the torchlight. Her expression was a mask of regal fury.
"Did you truly think you could escape your destiny, Henry?" the Queen asked, her voice chillingly calm. "You are a product of this Crown, whether by blood or by decree. You will return to the palace, or you will face the cold reality of a traitor's end."
Sophia stepped in front of Henry, her eyes searching the dark corners of the garden for any shadow they could disappear into. The gates were barred, and the circle was closing.
To be continued...
Would you like me to write Chapter 35, focusing on their discovery of a secret underground passage or an unexpected ally helping them hide?