Novel & Cerita Servant To The Crown

The honor a knight earns in battle, defense for the weak, and even standing bravely where no one will and can. THE CROWN. A royal blooded title, pride, and the entirety of their lives deal, where their world revolves and is only known for. Taken as the highest in the towering pedestal of their lives, it is the throne where blood and sins were covered. With its brightness and fame as the ruler and ruling stance of their lives, it is the dark and menacing life that only cares for power and luxury, that even the purest one can be tainted with its darkness.

“Your Majesty, the realm is yours now. May your reign be long and your mercy endless.” His tone was perfect. Too perfect. Cassian’s warning echoed again. Trust no one. As the priest lifted the crown, I felt the entire hall hold its breath. He set the metal upon my head, his voice ringing clear: “Behold Serina Valcrest, chosen by grace, crowned by will, ruler of the realm reborn.” The hall erupted in applause. But I saw who didn’t clap. Miriel. And half the lords from the northern trade houses are the same who’d funded the Prophet’s uprising.

His sin of omission. He couldn’t allow that. The chapel door was heavy oak, centuries old, and it swung open with the kind of authority that made the message clear: I am important. I belong in spaces others don’t. The palace corridors were empty at this hour. The servants who would normally be moving through them were asleep, and the guards who patrolled were loyal to Daemon, not to Marcus. This was the problem with the current structure the king’s authority superseded everyone else’s, even family, even the church itself.

Vanguard ate slowly, savoring each bite, unaware that the palace below him was rotting with terror. The servants stood lined against the wall, eyes lowered, hands clasped so tightly their knuckles ached. No one wanted to speak. No one wanted to die. A young servant—new, trembling—was pushed forward by the others. His legs shook so hard he nearly fell. “My… my lord,” he said softly. Vanguard did not look up. “If this is about the wine, replace it.” The servant swallowed. “It is not, Your Majesty.” Vanguard lifted his head.

"He is... Your majesty, it's the earl of the southern boarder!" Last second the servant had decided to better call one of his titles then his name. Now she pressed her eyes shut and waited for the worst. This time, there wasn't a fireplace in the vicinity, but her master was a creative women. Even in a flower field, she would find something to hurt her... or even kill her. What was the life of a servant compared to royalty? Maybe she would be found in the ruins of the pavilion tomorrow or drowned in the pond not far away... As the silence continued, the servant got more and more anxious. For a few seconds, the beauty just stood there, a confused look on her face. Which earl? Was there any ea

They mourned him and continue to do so. Someone had to take over now that the King was gone, and the young Crown Prince is doing an excellent job of carrying on his father's legacy. He's skilled at making snap decisions, and he's a natural leader. Not to mention that he's quite attractive. Anastasia isn't the only girl in the kingdom who fantasizes about him. When she sees him pass by, she can't help but steal a glimpse at him. If word gets out that she secretly admires the Prince, she'll most likely be beaten to death, but who can blame her? Despite the fact that he is rumored to be engaged, Anastasia smiles sheepishly whenever his name is mentioned. Even if he isn't enganged, a maid and a

The servant held an even larger, more extravagant basket overflowing with flowers. The servant gave a respectful bow. "From His Majesty, the king."

“Could you help me get a glass of water to drink?" Dominic nodded then clapped his hands twice, immediately, several servants entered with their heads bowed and their hands clasped together. They were dressed in rich black and gold uniforms far too elegant for ordinary servants. They carried themselves like royalty, which left me wondering— Who is Dominic aside from being my father's strongest warrior? "Get my mate a glass of water.” I watched the servant's eyes shoot up from shock the moment he said that. Why's that? Were they shocked he called me his mate?

“I was a guardian once. A keeper of the throne’s will.” Rael’s grip tightened on the book. “You’re saying you served the throne?” “I was bound to it,” Vame corrected. “As all who take the Hollow Crown must be.” Silence. Myrra’s expression darkened. “So you’re telling us someone actually wore it?” Vame’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Once.” Rael flipped through the book, scanning the changing pages. His pulse quickened as he found a new passage, the ink shifting before his eyes.