The Crown's Entrapment の小説・ストーリー

] I stared at the screen, my smirk growing colder by the second. I showed up at the meet-up right on time, dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, my face free of makeup. Bennett's eyes sparkled when he saw me, and he beckoned, "Harriet, come sit here." He was flanked by a gaggle of girls gazing at him in awe. Among them was Sophia, the daughter of Cornwell, a notorious kingpin, another notch on his belt from a life I wanted to forget. I took a seat next to her. When Bennett ducked out for coffee, I leaned over to Sophia, "So, what's your take on Bennett?"

The crimson warning continued flashing before my eyes long after the four Crown Kings disappeared from the Headmaster's office. Their footsteps had faded into silence, yet the pressure they left behind seemed to linger in the room. I stared at the system's newest command, unable to believe what I was seeing. [Hidden Mission Activated.] [Proceed to the Eastern Barrier.] [Reward: Memory Fragment.] [Penalty for Refusal: Crown Synchronization -5%.]

Throwing it like that, letting it fall like that…would definitely crack it! Almost instinctively, Gale lunged forward when the crown was falling quickly. She leaned forward and grabbed the crown tightly with her hands. Thankfully, she was very lucky. When the crown was only half a meter away from falling on the ground, Gale managed to grab it! She had used so much force that her veins could clearly be seen on the back of her hand. Furthermore, the crown was made of gold. As she clutched it, the sharp side pierced her palm.

“Run, and the gown will follow you. Resist, and it will tighten its grip. Bride, there’s no exit.” Suddenly, the torches in the chamber reignited with a hiss of smoke. Camela slammed against the wall as the gown's living thorns bound her wrists. The light illuminated Vincent still chained to the floor, with blood dripping from his wrists as he struggled. “Let her go!” he roared. Elias leaned casually against the wall, watching as if it were a play unfolding before him. “Fascinating, isn’t it? A crown that eats its own queen.” “Shut your mouth,” Vincent growled.

“The crown is mine.” I bent a little lower eyeing the way she held him, placing his head on her laps. I ignored their display for an instant, squatting down to grasp the blood coated crown. The piece was an original gold one, with ten slops around it and by the sides were transparent pearls forming a bridge at the start of each slops. “Could someone get a friggin’ fucking ambulance or do you want your new King to be marked as a murderer?!” I suddenly yelled, bringing out a white handkerchief from the breast pocket of my suit. Erasing the stains of blood from the part of the crown it touched, I positioned it on my head.

Her crown fell to the marble floor with a clear clang, there seems also to be a clanging sound of someone's sword falling to the ground outside the palace gates. The deep red gem on the crown shattered and scattered. Warm blood down the steps on the cold ground, slowly spreading, reminiscent of the shallow creek she used to play in barefoot as a child. This golden hall of Avalon became her grave, swallowing her bones, burying her life. Outside, the sun shone on the snow, melting it bit by bit…

The Crown of Thorns was within reach. The Question: As they step into the heart of the St. Claire empire, will their shared obsession be enough to navigate the traps Arthur has set—or will the revelation of Isabella’s true role in the Moretti history force a choice between vengeance and survival? (Watch out for Chapter 152) 💬 Add to library | Vote | Comment | Please Send Gifts

*"Too late. The crown's already singing." We flee as the village collapses, the ground giving way to a lake of liquid shadow. Eden falls to his knees at its edge, retching black bile. "It's in my head," he whispers. *"The crown... it wants me to *build*."* --- **The Architect's Madness**

I stared at him for a second, then took it slowly, already annoyed because if this was another attempt at convincing me of this nonsense, I was about to lose whatever patience I had left. Then I looked at the screen. And just like that, everything in my head went completely still. The headline was bold. Too bold and looks too real. Alexandra Fisher Hale the queen of the business world is pregnant and to be married to Jacob Grey. I blinked. Once. Twice. Then I looked up at Dada. “What the actual fuck?” The words came out before I could even stop them, because at this point, manners were the least of my concerns. Because what?

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.