A Crown, Three Women, and One Very Unfortunate Man

The Emperor died at the worst possible time.

Not during war. Not during famine. Not even during a dramatic thunderstorm—which I would say, would have helped the mood to be honest.

But nope.

He died right exactly after dinner.

The half court was still digesting the foods, of course not pizza, It was…well I don’t know...

The other half was calculating.

And there one poor man—Captain Arin Vale—was thinking that how his life had collapsed so quickly in worse possible way.

—

“Stand straight,” a minister said silently.

“I am standing straight,” Arin muttered.

“You look confused.”

“I am confused.”

“That is not an appropriate expression for this occasion.”

Arin glanced at the Emperor’s body.

“Neither is being alive, apparently,” he said with his slow motion breath.

The minister pretended not to hear. Professional survival instinct afterall.

—

The throne room smelled strange and possibly need a good perfume.

Not because of death. Death was cleaner really.

This smelled like something slower.

Like a secret rotting politely.

At the center, the royal crown sat on a velvet cushion. Looks heavily Golden. Beautiful.

And just looking at it made Arin uneasy.

He couldn’t explain why at all.

It was like staring at something that was quietly judging you.

Or waiting.

Mostly waiting. Keep waiting my readers..i am out of my English anyway back to the story

—

“The Emperor’s final decree has been confirmed,” announced the Head Minister, with the confidence of a man who had just invented it five minutes ago.

“The Crown Prince will ascend the throne.”

A ripple passed through the court.

Some relieved.

Some disappointed.

Some already planning murders with impressive efficiency.

Arin sighed.

“Of course,” he whispered. “Simple and clean with no complications.”

That was his first mistake.

Because at that exact moment, three complications were already moving toward him.

—

First Complication: The Heir

Somewhere in the palace corridors, a girl walked with a servant’s tray in her hands.

Her head was lowered.

Her steps were quiet.

But her eyes…were not quiet at all.

They watched everything.

Measured everything.

Remembered everything.

“The Emperor is dead,” another servant whispered.

The girl nodded slightly with patience.

“And the Crown Prince is king now.”

This time, she smiled.

Not happily.

Neither sadly.

Just… knowingly a little nodded.

“Of course he is,” she said in low voice.

Because she knew the truth.

The Crown Prince was not the heir.

She was.

And tonight, she had just lost a father—

—and gained a war and few kgs of weight

Second Complication: The Guard

Back in the throne room, Arin felt someone watching him.

He turned.

A female guard stood near one of the pillars.

Armor polished with perfect posture.

Expressions are unreadable.

“Captain Arin,” she said calmly.

“Lieutenant Serah,” he nodded.

They had worked together before. She was really efficient and loyal that time.

Also she is very dangerously observant.

And currently looking at him like he was a puzzle she intended to solve but don’t know how to do.

“You look uncomfortable,” she noted.

“I’m standing next to a dead emperor and a cursed-looking crown,” Arin said with a big sigh in his voice, “I feel like that’s a reasonable reaction for me also right now.”

“Cursed?” she asked.

He hesitated a little.

“…No. Forget I said that.” He suddenly decided to not to speak anything anymore.

Serah tilted her head slightly. She did not forget things. Especially not strange ones.

“Be careful tonight,” she said quietly.

“That sounds like advice for me,” Arin replied.

“It is a warning or threat, whatever you think.”

“From you?”

A pause.

Then—

“From someone who benefits if you survive.”

That was not reassuring at all for him.

—

Third Complication: The Silent Girl

Deep inside the palace—

Far from the noise—

A girl sat alone.

She did not speak. (this character is somehow as a author I don’t even understand why TF I am writing it)

She had not spoken in years. In front of her lay a small table filled with delicate glass vials with clear liquids and dark powders.

All things that looked harmless and things that absolutely were not.

She dipped a thin brush into one vial and carefully painted something invisible onto a small needle.

Its Precise, Elegant and Deadly.

A servant entered nervously.

“The Emperor is gone,” she whispered.

No response from her.

“The Crown Prince will take the throne.”

The silent girl paused again. What can she say? She is a mute girl.

Slowly, she turned her head.

Her eyes were calm.

Maybe too calm. (I am making it dramatic)

Then she reached for a piece of paper and wrote:

“Good for someone.”

The servant swallowed.

“…Good for someone?”

The girl wrote again:

“It means the game has started.”

—

And Then, the Problem

Back in the throne room, Arin exhaled slowly.

“Alright,” he muttered. “New king. New problems for me, just try not to die and that’s mostly manageable.”

Then the Head Minister pointed at him.

“You,” the minister said.

Arin froze.

“…Me?”

“Yes. Captain Arin Vale.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“You will take personal charge of palace security.”

Arin blinked.

“That sounds like a promotion.”

“It is.”

“That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

A few people nearby chuckled.

Darkly.

Because everyone in that room understood one thing:

The closer you stand to the throne—

The shorter your life becomes.

—

Arin glanced once more at the crown.

For a brief moment—

He thought he saw something.

A faint stain.

Dark.

Almost like dried blood.

He blinked that moment.

It was gone.

“…Right,” he muttered. “Definitely not cursed at all, pure innocent clean.”

Behind him, Serah watched silently.

Somewhere else, the true heir prepared her first move.

And in the shadows, the silent girl smiled without moving her lips.

—

The Emperor was dead.

The crown was waiting.

And without realizing it—

Captain Arin Vale had just become the center of all three women’s plans.

—

He really should have stayed home that day with his newly invented quick sleep yoga tenchinque.