Chapter 8: Chapter 8- No one should know about this
The air was thick with tension as Simon crouched beside the lifeless body sprawled across the cold marble floor. Hazel stood nearby, her face pale, her fingers clutching the folds of her gown as though grounding herself. The golden light of the candelabra flickered, casting long shadows over the crimson stain that marred the once-pristine stone.
"We can't leave him here," Hazel whispered, her voice trembling.
Simon nodded, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room for anything he could use. "No one must find out about this," he said, his voice low and steady despite the chaos racing in his mind. "If this was an enemy, it means the palace has been breached. Whoever did this could still be here."
Without hesitation, Simon grabbed a nearby curtain, its heavy velvet fabric deep enough to hide the dark stain spreading across the man's chest. With practiced efficiency, he draped it over the body, obscuring the face and the wound.
"Help me," he commanded, glancing at Hazel. She hesitated, but his determined gaze left no room for argument. Together, they hoisted the body, Simon carrying the weight while Hazel steadied the legs.
"Where are we taking him?" Hazel asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"There's an old storage room near the west wing," Simon replied, his voice tight with effort. "No one goes there anymore. We'll leave him there for now."
This was shocking to Hazel, how could Simon know all about her palace.
Moving quickly yet carefully, they navigated the shadowed corridors of the palace. Simon knew the guards' patrol patterns by heart, slipping between blind spots and ducking into alcoves whenever footsteps echoed too close.
When they reached the dusty, unused storage room, Simon kicked the door open and gestured for Hazel to follow. Together, they concealed the body behind an old, moth-eaten tapestry, the weight of their secret heavy in the air.
"This stays between us," Simon said, locking the door behind them. Hazel nodded, though her wide eyes betrayed her unease. They had buried the evidence, but the danger was far from over.
Here's a scene that blends the intimate dynamics between Ephraim and Layla into the story:
---
The flicker of torchlight played across the sandstone walls of the secret chamber beneath the castle. Ephraim stood by the arched window, the chill of the night air brushing against his face as he recounted his success. His voice was smooth, tinged with satisfaction. "Simon and Hazel were as predictable as ever," he said, turning to face Layla, who lounged on a velvet chaise. "Their trust is crumbling, piece by piece."
Layla tilted her head, a sly smile curving her lips. The soft glow of the firelight caught the amber hues of her eyes, making her look almost feline in her poise. "You've done well," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "Simon is more vulnerable than ever. And Hazel? She'll be too distracted to see what's coming."
Ephraim took a step closer, his dark eyes locking with hers. "I deserve more than words, Layla. You know that."
She leaned back, letting the thin silk of her gown slip slightly off her shoulder. "Is that so?" she teased, her tone laced with challenge.
Ephraim's lips twitched into a smirk as he closed the distance between them. He knelt before her, his hands resting on the arms of the chaise, caging her in. "You enjoy this game as much as I do," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble.
Layla's fingers grazed his jaw, her nails trailing a faint line down his neck. "Perhaps," she admitted, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "But tell me, Ephraim—do you play this game for the thrill, or is it for me?"
Ephraim didn't answer with words. Instead, his lips claimed hers, and the tension between them ignited like dry tinder meeting a flame. It was a battle of wills, of dominance and surrender, but neither seemed willing to lose.
The night stretched on, their whispers and laughter blending with the crackle of the fire. For now, the world outside didn't matter. It was just them, tangled in the dangerous web they had spun.
Ephraim's lust for Hazel was causing him to do some silly dangerous things. Instead of protecting her he seems to be the mastermind behind.
While Ephraim and Layla were having a great time Simon and Hazel were in a serious crisis.
It's not easy to pretend like nothing happened. As soon Hazel reached her chamber she went straight to her bath tub.
Hazel Changed her clothes to some comfortable dress. Her maid servant was called by Simon to assist her but Hazel send her back.
As Hazel was trying to sleep, Simon was sitting opposite the bedside trying to solve the puzzle on who could it be.
Can it be Lama and Layla since they cause a sin a the table. Can it be Ephraim but no he loves her. Do who can it be Victoria and her mother Dorah?
The grand hall of the palace was quiet now, the echoes of music and laughter from the night before replaced by the murmurs of departing guests. Servants bustled about, loading carriages with the belongings of visiting nobles. King Balaam stood in the courtyard with his family, his sharp gaze scanning the palace grounds.
"Where is Michael?" the king demanded, his voice booming with impatience. His family stood behind him, their expressions tense. "I've seen every guest except him. He knew we'd be leaving together. Where is my son?"
Simon and Hazel exchanged a subtle glance, their hearts pounding with the weight of the truth they dared not reveal. The memory of finding Prince Michael's lifeless body in Hazel's room was fresh in their minds, and the fear of what King Balaam might do if he found out loomed over them.
Simon stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. "Your Majesty, Prince Michael left the palace early this morning. I saw him heading out before the rest of the guests woke."
King Balaam frowned, his suspicion evident. "Left? For what purpose? He was supposed to leave with us."
Hazel stepped in, her voice soft yet steady. "maybe he wanted to explore the city or perhaps… spend time with someon.Your Majesty. He often moves on his own whims."
Balaam's eyes narrowed, but then he sighed, his expression softening slightly. "That boy… always chasing pleasure. He's probably found some tavern or a pretty girl to occupy his time." He shook his head, frustration mingling with resignation. "Fine. When he returns, tell him I'll expect him back at the capital within a fortnight. I won't tolerate this lack of discipline much longer." with a smirk he continues " like father like son"
Simon and Hazel nodded in unison, relief washing over them as Balaam turned toward his carriage.
As the royal party departed, Hazel whispered to Simon, her voice barely audible. "We can't keep this secret forever."
Simon's jaw tightened. "We'll deal with that when the time comes. For now, Michael's death stays between us. The peace of the kingdoms depends on it."
Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Where is the body pt1
The palace corridors were eerily silent, the air thick with the remnants of the fading sunset. The torches lining the stone walls flickered, casting ghostly shadows as Prince Simon and Princess Hazel hurried toward the old storage room. Their breaths came in short bursts, their footsteps quick and precise, their nerves fraying with every second.
When they reached the heavy wooden door, Hazel hesitated only for a moment before pushing it open. The scent of dust and aged fabric filled the air. The moth-eaten tapestry still hung limply against the far wall, its frayed edges swaying slightly from the draft that had crept in through the cracked window.
But the body was gone.
Hazel gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth as she stepped inside. Her emerald-green eyes scanned the room in frantic disbelief. "Simon…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's gone."
Simon's jaw clenched as he quickly surveyed the area. There were no signs of struggle—no fresh footprints in the dust, no streaks of blood leading away. It was as if the corpse had simply vanished. He turned to Hazel, his sharp eyes dark with suspicion.
"This isn't possible," he muttered. "No one knew about this except us."
Hazel swallowed hard. "What if—what if whoever killed him took him? What if they're trying to frame me?" Her voice wavered, and for the first time that night, fear truly set in.
"Could it be Layla and Lama or my evil step mother and Victoria?
"Or Ephraim" Simon mummers
Simon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We can't panic. If someone moved the body, they must have a reason. And if they wanted to expose you, they would have done it by now."
Hazel nodded, though her hands trembled. "Then what do we do?"
"We find out who else knows," Simon said firmly, taking her hand and pulling her out of the room. "We act normal. No one can know we're looking for the body. And we start by watching everyone."
"But everyone is already leaving? We should have gotten rid of it"
As they stepped into the open hall, the last of the daylight had faded, and the palace was bathed in the glow of lanterns. The evening air carried the distant murmurs of lingering guests preparing to depart.
Then, they saw her.
Layla.
She was gliding toward the main door, her crimson cloak billowing slightly as she walked. Her sister, Princess Lama, stood near the entrance, waiting with an air of quiet patience. But it was Layla's piercing gaze that sent a chill down Hazel's spine.
She stopped just before stepping outside, tilting her head as she regarded Simon and Hazel. A slow, knowing smile curled at the edges of her lips.
"My dear prince and princess," she mused, her voice honeyed with amusement, "you both look… unsettled. A shame, really, after such a magnificent evening."
Simon stiffened. "You're leaving?"
"Of course," Layla replied smoothly, adjusting the clasp of her cloak. "The party is over, and my father expects me back. I would have left sooner, but I had… unfinished matters to attend to." Her eyes gleamed in the dim torchlight.
Hazel felt her breath catch. Was Layla hinting at something? Is she the murderer and framing me?
Before they could respond, Layla chuckled, stepping past them. As she passed Hazel, she whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "Be careful where you leave things unattended. Someone might take them."
A shiver ran down Hazel's spine, but before she could react, Layla was gone, her sister following close behind.
Simon exhaled slowly, watching her disappear into the night. "She knows something," he muttered under his breath.
"Do you think she—" Hazel started, but before she could finish, a new voice cut through the corridor.
"There you are!"
Princess Victoria appeared in a rush.Her deep eyes were filled with concern—or something dangerously close to curiosity.
"Simon, Hazel," she said breathlessly, her gaze flickering between them. "Why do you both look so troubled? What's happened?"
Hazel forced a quick smile, but her heart pounded. "Nothing, just—just tired from the party last night"
Victoria frowned, stepping closer. "You're lying."
Simon sighed, already weary from the night's events. "Victoria, now isn't the time."
She ignored him, eyes narrowing as she studied their expressions. "Something is wrong. I've been watching you both all evening—you disappear, you whisper to each other, and now you look like someone has died." Her gaze locked onto Simon, something softer creeping into her features. "Simon, please. If you're in trouble, I want to help."
Hazel glanced between them, noting the way Victoria's voice softened when she spoke to Simon. It was no secret that Victoria had always harbored feelings for him since the party began. She even follows him on first prince and princess meeting . She was agreeing on every point he said.She disguised it well most of the time, but moments like these made it clear.
Simon took a step back. "There's nothing to tell, Victoria."
Victoria crossed her arms, clearly unsatisfied. "I don't believe you. And I will find out the truth."
Hazel clenched her fists, her patience running thin. "Victoria, you're imagining things. You're exhausted. Maybe you should get some rest."
Victoria's lips curled slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Maybe I should. Or maybe I should start asking around about why you both look like you've seen a ghost."
Hazel's stomach twisted. They needed to get away from her before she pressed further.
"Goodnight, Victoria," he said firmly, grabbing Hazel's arm and pulling her down the corridor.
Victoria watched them go, her smirk never fading.
Hazel let out a shaky breath once they were far enough away. "Simon, she's suspicious."
"I know," he muttered. "Which means we have less time than we thought."
Hazel looked over her shoulder, dread filling her chest. The body was missing. Layla had hinted at something dangerous. And now Victoria was watching their every move.
Someone was playing a game with them. And they were running out of ways
— New chapter is coming soon — Write a review
Weekly Power Status
N/A Power
Ranking 
0 Power
stone >15,000 words needed for ranking.
You may also Like
Paragraph comment