Servant To The Crown Novels & Stories

If my plan succeeds he will be greatly rueful. I will ensure that his prideful family will never gain power over any other kingdom. I am a royal and have zero concern for the unfortunate child he enslaved. That child is however the key to the crown's mighty powers. Which means owning him would give me power over his imperious family and much more. The servant returns earlier than expected walking behind a plump man in fine clothing. "It is an honour to be at your service, your highness," he bows his head deeply. "I hear that you are looking for a healthy slave to buy," he adds, his face aglow with excitement.

Once again, I glanced at my people and I knew the answer. “A king is a servant of its people.” Claps and praises echoed in the hall. They weren’t expecting that answer from me. The world referred King as ruler. In my opinion, the ruling meant controlling and showing dominance. I wasn’t that kind of king nor did I want to be. King is the one who serves, not rule. Growing up, I was told that true king nurtures, protects and defends its people. That was exactly what I wanted to be. A true king.

the man went on, his tone still calm, but sharper now, “to remember your place.” The words landed directly. No hesitation. No disguise. “You are a guardian,” he said, his gaze fixed on Corin. “Not royalty.” The room felt smaller. Tighter. You serve the crown,” he added. “You do not stand beside it.” Silence followed. Heavy. Measured. Waiting. Corin didn’t step back. Didn’t lower his gaze. Didn’t move at all. “She’s not a crown,” he said quietly. The words were simple. But they held.

"And your people? What will happen to then if the King is not aware of their situations? You are chosing a meaningless crown over the people you need to serve." "The crown comes first." He raised his voice. "The people are the crown." I yelled back. "The crown is nothing but a tool that lays on your head while the people are the Kingdom. You'll get the crown sooner or later but the people need to come first." Prince Barlion finally turned to me with a glare. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I can't get what belongs to me unless I fight dirty. I am doing what is necessary..."

No way would Arlene be brought down by some cheap tricks from a two-faced woman like Vivian. Arlene quietly wiped the corner of her eye as well, playing along with the emotional appeal. "You're wrong, Vivian. You, coming from a poor and humble background, were never worthy of Isaac in the first place. But because you promised as a girl to love him forever, that fool went against his family's wishes and endured 39 lashes just to marry you. "Not only did he pull strings to lift your family up, but he also gave you a black card to give you status. Yet, during the engagement party, you signed a master-servant contract with another man behind his back."

the servant explained. Seren smiled mockingly, "He lost once, that means his skills aren't very good. Why doesn't he stop and act as a good prince and crown prince? Why bother taking unnecessary revenge?" The queen's personal attendant was about to reply, but Seren hurriedly said, "Hey, I know you're a big fan of his. There's no need to defend him by saying something nice about him. I won't like it." The young girl who had served as Seren's maid for several years immediately fell silent.

A long crimson cape flowed behind her, worn and faded by time but still immaculate. She removed her helmet. Long white hair cascaded over her shoulders. There was an elegance about her that no amount of time had diminished. She placed a hand over her heart and bowed deeply. “I am Seraphine.” “The First Sword of the Crown.” “The Captain of the Royal Guard.” “My life belonged to the First King.” Her voice faltered. “…and it belongs to you now.” Lucian shifted uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t swear loyalty to someone you don’t know.” Seraphine smiled.

Betty’s hands trembled slightly as she fastened the clasps at Emilia’s back, and Emilia couldn’t help but notice her nervousness. “Relax, Betty,” she said gently. “You’re doing well.” Betty blushed, nodding quickly. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Once she was dressed, Matron Isla gestured to a silver circlet resting on a velvet pillow. “Shall I place your coronet, Your Highness?” Emilia hesitated, the sight of the intricate piece making her stomach twist. It was beautiful, but it felt like another layer of distance between herself and her old life. “No,” she said softly. “Not today.”

Kilian stepped in front of me. “She does not speak english. IShe is my new servant. Dad, you can not have her. You bought her for me!” The word hit me hard. Servant! Was he telling his dad I was his servant? Would his father take me now that the truth was out. “Lyra?” Dragan’s face turns to regrat.