Servant To The Crown Novels & Stories

"The one that was hanging here yesterday. Where is it?" The servant in the corner of the room—the one who brought the scout in—steps forward nervously. "My lord, I believe it was taken down for cleaning. It should be returned shortly." "Cleaning?" I repeat, my voice rising. "Why wasn't I informed? Why wasn't it replaced immediately?" The servant stammers. "I... I apologize, my lord. I thought—" "You thought wrong!" I shout. "Do you have any idea who that woman is? She's the jewel of my conquest! The crown of my victory! Her beauty should be displayed everywhere—for everyone to see!"

Do you even realize how rare that is? “I’m just a servant." "Was a servant. His smile widens, cold as ice. Now you're my newest investment, and that royal blood of yours is going to earn its keep."

“Who goes with me?” Rhevan doesn’t hesitate. “We stay.” All three brothers nod, already shifting into command mode—logistics, cover stories, contingencies. Her eyes lift to me. I don’t look away. “We’re going.” Her brow creases. “You can’t. You’re Crown Lords.” “Yes,” Elowen says calmly. “Which is precisely why we must.” Soryn’s voice cuts in, low and lethal. “If a Crown Lord vanishes alone, it’s a scandal. If four move together, it’s a precedent.”

“I will stay in servant brown until the last black feather is found, because the crown can wait while the truth is still bleeding.” Rieka’s eyes widened. Then she stood. She bowed, not deeply, not like a subject before a queen, but like one fighter honoring another. One by one, the servants lowered their heads. Not all. Some looked afraid. Some looked doubtful. Some looked angry that their promised queen had refused the safety of becoming untouchable. But enough bowed to make the air change. Conri stepped closer, and his voice carried across the lower hall without stealing my moment. “Then Northridge will honor her choice, and any wolf who mocks the servant brown mocks the blood it protects.

They found out that a cunning manor master would not return the servants of Chief Marcus’ cousin. Indeed, the cousin of Chief Marcus owed a great amount to this master that he has to pay seven times the principal amount. This master took his servants as a warning in the event of failed payment. By the time the cousin of Chief Marcus can finally redeem his servants and pay the needed amount, the manor master demanded even more. He would not want to yield unless military provisions will be given to his house. The business of military provisions is not solely after the authority of Chief Marcus, it needs consent from the Royal Capital.

"Unfortunately for you, I did." They fumbled into curtsies, stammering apologies, their gaze darting around like cornered mice. One maid attempted to flee, but my voice stopped her. "Stop. Come back!" The girl came to a halt, her face etched with guilt. "Allow me to remind you," I said clearly. "I may not be favored. I may not be loved. But I am still the Crown Prince's wife. And you are servants beneath this roof. You must show me respect. Not because of who I am, but because of what I am.

“Merri? But Your Highness, even though Merri was your personal maid at Duke Mountravven's residence, she did not have sufficient specifications to be the personal attendant of a member of the royal family. I think-” “Then, do you think those people you gathered have sufficient specifications to serve me, a Crown Princess? Just so you know, they are incompetent. They don't satisfy me at all! Merri is better!” “Miss, oops... Your Highness the Crown Princess.” Merri tightened her hands as if praying. Her gaze sparkled dearly. I know she loves compliment.

It was so bloody that it made me feel like I was the one being killed. My thoughts were a mess. As tears start pouring, I hear a knock on the door. Snapping my head. I call out. My voice wavers as I answer. Quickly, I grab the crown and set it back inside the box. Closing it, I turn and head out. Just to find a servant with his head bow. “What do you want?” I snap as I clean my tears away. “I came to check on you,” the servant said. “The king orders me to check on you, Your Highness.”

Do not trust the crown. She did not know who had sent it, but the warning clung to her thoughts. A knock came. “Enter,” she said. Cale stepped inside, his uniform crisp, his expression careful. He bowed slightly before speaking. “Lady Seraphina. His Highness has ordered increased security while the Inquisitor remains in the palace. I’ve been assigned to your wing.” “Assigned,” she repeated. “To watch me?” “To protect you,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Though I’m not sure he knows the difference.”

Dallas’ p.o.v. I understand why Uncle Vaughn wants to deal with this issue first. He wants to replace those Servants as soon as possible, but also send a message out there. “Each Servant who works in the Royal wing was put there to spy on the Royal family and to report to the Elders. Not only for the Elders to have a heads-up, but also to inform their former Alphas. This is a list of the Servants who are currently stationed in the Royal wing.” I say as I hold up a piece of paper.