Whitehall Palace, 1611

Trust is a fragile thing.

In Whitehall, it is whispered, traded, and broken more often than it is honored. Yet, despite the dangers, I have chosen to hold onto my friendship with Harry.

Perhaps it is foolish.

Perhaps it is the only real thing I have in this world.

But I will not give him up.

Not now. Not ever.

A Meeting in the Moonlight

The night is cool, the scent of damp stone filling the air. I wait in the shadows of the servant’s passage, listening for the faintest sound of approaching footsteps.

Then, at last, he arrives.

“You took your time,” I whisper.

Harry grins, brushing dust from his tunic. “Had to dodge the guards. Thought I’d see if I could sneak past the ones by the east wing. Turns out they’re half-asleep.”

I shake my head. “One day, that reckless streak of yours will get you into trouble.”

He smirks. “One day, I’ll save your royal hide because of it.”

I do not doubt him.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

We make our way through the tunnels beneath the palace, our footsteps muffled by the thick silence. This is our world now—a world of hidden corridors and whispered secrets, where a prince and a servant’s son are equals.

A world where, if only for a little while, I can forget the weight of my name.

A Lesson in Strategy

Our journey leads us to an old storage chamber, half-forgotten by the palace staff. Dust lingers in the air, disturbed only by the flickering light of a single candle.

Harry pulls out a small wooden board and places it between us.

“Chess again?” I ask.

He grins. “A different kind.”

On the board, he arranges small figures—stones, carved pieces of wood, anything he could scavenge. When he’s done, I recognize what he has built.

The palace.

“The guards move like this,” he says, shifting a piece. “The kitchen staff comes through here, and this—” he taps a small pebble “—this is Robert Cecil’s path whenever he leaves the king’s chamber.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been watching.”

He shrugs. “Someone has to.”

I study the board, a slow realization creeping over me. Harry has turned the palace into a game of strategy. A game we are learning to win.

“You could be a general,” I murmur.

He laughs. “I’ll settle for not getting caught.”

The Danger of Being Seen

We do not always play in the shadows.

Sometimes, we slip into the gardens, hidden among the hedges where the nobles rarely tread. We race along the palace walls, scaling the stones as if they are nothing more than a child’s climbing frame.

For the first time, I feel free.

But freedom comes at a cost.

One afternoon, as we duck into an alcove near the chapel, a voice cuts through the air.

“What are you doing here?”

We freeze.

A boy stands before us, dressed in fine clothes, his expression twisted with disdain. I know his face.

Henry de Vere.

A nobleman’s son.

He looks at Harry with open contempt, then shifts his gaze to me. “You shouldn’t be playing with servants, Your Highness.”

Harry’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.

I step forward. “And why should that concern you?”

Henry scoffs. “Because people talk. And if you’re not careful, they’ll start to wonder why the prince prefers the company of a beggar over his own kind.”

I hold his gaze, my heart pounding. This is the first time someone has openly questioned my friendship with Harry.

It will not be the last.

A Promise in the Dark

That night, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling.

Henry de Vere’s words linger in my mind, a warning I cannot ignore.

If people begin to suspect… if Robert Cecil takes notice… Harry could be in danger.

I slip from my bed, making my way through the secret corridors until I find him. He is sitting by the old chessboard, the candlelight flickering against his face.

“You’re worried,” he says without looking up.

“They will come for you.” My voice is quiet but certain. “Maybe not now. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, they will.”

Harry leans back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Then I’ll just have to be smarter than them.”

I clench my fists. “Promise me. If something happens… if they turn against you… you will not stay and fight. You will run.”

He looks at me then, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he says nothing.

And then, he nods.

“I promise.”

I do not know if he is lying.

But for now, it is enough.

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