"The others are fighting for all the advantages they can get prior to the first party tonight."
The masked servant knelt on the cold floor without any sign of discomfort, reporting in a dispassionate tone. His master sat on the windowsill, staring out into the gardens, a single finger tracing patterns in the condensation on the glass.
"How many keys do my brothers control?" Luke's voice was cold, as if he didn't care much about the answer that every nobleman in the city would give all their possessions to know.
"None. Prince Graham's mother has bought over some relations of the third, fifth and eighth Lords, and Prince Fetter has been blackmailing every servant in the city, but the Ten Lords themselves have not given their loyalties to any prince."
"Holding out for the highest price?" Luke sneered, his eyes searching the gardens as he spoke. "I can't imagine those greedy old men having any notions of loyalty or fairness."
The servant bowed his head silently.
"So it will actually depend on the three parties? My father should be pleased that his final test will be carried out so well."
"... Your Highness?" The servant hesitated a long moment before finally speaking up. "Why are you participating in this ridiculous trial? It's a complete farce! With your forces..."
"It is none of your concern." The chill in his voice seemed to freeze the air between them.
"...Very well, Your Highness."
"She still sees something worthwhile in me." He muttered quietly. "I won't betray that." His eyes caught a glimpse of a figure walking along one of the garden's pathways through the glass, and his gaze softened, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
"If there's nothing else, let's end it here."
"..." The masked servant didn't move, staying in his kneeling position. Although his expression couldn't be seen, his discomfort could be felt as he fidgeted in place. As the silence dragged on, Luke reluctantly looked away from the person in the gardens, turning towards the masked man with a frown.
"What is it? Something important?"
"I'm... not sure." The man's brows knitted together. "It's a little... unusual more than anything."
Luke waved a hand. "Well? Go ahead."
"There's been a... movement? A religion?" He shook his head. "Perhaps 'cult' would best describe it... spreading amongst the servants and craftsman in the capital."
"I see." Luke raised an eyebrow. "And why is this my concern?"
"Well, partly because the majority of your servants have taken part... but also because of its source." The servant looked away from the prince's gaze, uncomfortable. "You see... it's a peculiar belief system, that states that by casting off one's name and identity, one can avoid the deadly trouble and world and live a happy life."
"..." Staring at the kneeling man for a few stunned moments, Luke couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh loudly. "How many have joined this cult?"
"Well... it began with just a handful among the areas she lived in... but it seems to have spread like a wildfire."
"Of course." A grinned tugged at the prince's lips. "She can't help but draw you in."
"Your Highness..."
"Leave it be, unless you judge there's any danger to her." He turned back to the window, a finger tracing over the glass outlining the person in question. "Go make sure all my forces stand ready in case something goes wrong."
"Yes, Milord." With a brief nod, the masked man quietly exited, leaving Luke alone.
"I'll play by the rules while I can, but I won't let you get hurt."
He whispered a name, so quietly even he could barely hear it.
________________________________
"So you're saying that in our story, all important characters are doomed to die bloody, violent deaths?" The servant girl stared up at me with an awed expression, making me slightly uncomfortable.
"All except the main hero and main villain, yes." I nodded my head slowly.
"And that's why you don't have a name?" The young man next to her smiled with understanding.
I hesitated at his expression, but finally answered slowly. "Yes. I'm just an unimportant, nameless side character. Fading into the background."
"A nameless side character." The small group of servants repeated reverently after me, their eyes bright and excited.
"..."
Something's... off. When I had originally been asked by one of the servant's in Luke's quarters why I didn't have a name, I hadn't thought much of it. Without mentioning the "transported into a book world" bit, I had explained my theory that all important characters died terribly.
It had apparently struck a nerve.
Ever since that day, that servant had been bringing small groups to talk to me, sometimes up to several times a day. They all seemed eager to listen, despite my increasingly wary replies. Even stranger, I had noticed that the servants in the household no longer called each other by name.
What is going on?
"There you are!" A pleasant voice called out, interrupting my uncomfortable musings.
"Luke!" I turned with a smile, waving goodbye to the group I had been talking to earlier.
"He has a name..."
"Fool! His Highness is a main character!"
I thought I heard some muttering behind me, but right then Luke reached out, grabbing my hand and distracting me.
"Having fun starting a new religion?"
"Pardon?" I cocked my head to the side, confused. He stared at me for a few moments before laughing, the delighted sound making me grin back .
"Never mind, as long as you're happy." He squeezed my hand gently. "Ready for the party tonight?"
"I'm going?" The thought made me nervous. It would be the final trial, so all the princes would be there. Fetter... Graham... I swallowed uncomfortably. I hadn't seen Graham or his mother since our last run in, and I wasn't looking forward to it.
"Who else would be willing to stand by my side?"
"And you... you're participating?" I couldn't help but ask; feeling confused. In the book his character hadn't taken part in the parties at all, simply attacking the city at the night of the third party instead and trying to take the throne by force. It had been a vicious, bloody attack, every horrifying detail described. It was the final straw that made me unable to finish the fourth book Chloe had lent me.
Now I wished I had finished it despite how awful it was to read. I don't even know what happened to Luke after the attack on Western City. Was he successful? Had he gotten hurt? Anxiety pierced my chest at the thought. He was so different from his character in Deadly Crown, but I wasn't sure if it would help or hurt him.
How much have I changed the story?
Luke pulled me over to sit next to him on one of the benches in the garden. "It's true, I don't have the strongest political skills... that's Fetter. And I don't have a large base of support... that's Graham. It seems like a hopeless cause." Despite his depressing words however, he was smiling brightly at me.
"Then why are you so happy?"
"Because you're by my side." He chuckled. "Winning isn't important. We just need to stay alive, and then once they no longer see me as a threat, you and I can go live a life of obscurity in the woods together." He paused, thinking it over. "Or the desert, if you like, since Blade has named you her successor."
I shook my head, ignoring the outlandish statement at the end to focus on the point of his words. "So you don't want the crown?" My tone held some disbelief as I studied his eyes. If he truly never wanted the throne, he could have abdicated at the very start.
Luke didn't look away, meeting my gaze head on. "I did once." He admitted it openly, his smile sad. "But it was never for me. It was for my mother."
"Your mother." That surprised me. The book had never mentioned her.
"She was from the desert. She and Blade grew up together, but while Blade is a fierce warrior... my mother was the opposite." He stared down at the ground, a bitter expression taking over his face. "She was kind, loving... far too trusting to be a woman in the Royal Court."
I pulled his hand into my lap, holding it between my two hands. It was cold, despite the warmer temperature in the garden around us.
"She loved the king, despite his faults, his many women... his cold nature." Luke's eyes closed slowly, hiding the pain I could see in his eyes. "The man cares for no one but himself, but she gave her heart to him. She always hoped that he and I would get along, but I was only ever a disappointment to His Majesty." He laughed softly, but it was not a happy sound.
"How...?" The question I wanted to ask died on my lips, I couldn't say the words. I didn't want to force him to remember, to make him hurt anymore than he already was. But even though I stopped myself, he understood what I wanted to know. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak, his tone flat, as if discussing a long forgotten history, or the weather, rather than the death of his only family member.
"Poison. I still don't know who did it. Plenty of people with reason to. My mother was beautiful, favored by the King more than most of the other woman who had born him children. She died slowly, fading away in front of me into skin and bones, and there was nothing I could do. But no matter how much it must have hurt her, she continued to smile, to hope I would live happily without hatred or fear." His voice cracked towards the end, his eyelashes damp from the tears he was trying to hold back.
I reached out, hugging him tightly, and slowly he lowered his head, resting it on my shoulder. His ragged breath felt warm on my neck as he slowly regained his calm. "So you decided to win the crown to avenge her?"
I felt him nod at my words. "They threw me into the Ninth Lord's household after her death, beat me, cursed me, humiliated me. A useless prince with no backing. But I didn't give up. I was going to take everything they wanted. The crown, the country, their power and wealth... I would crush it with my own two hands." His tone was dark.
"I had planned it out. Get their guard down by participating in the first two trials, and strike while they are fighting and squabbling for power in the final party. Even if only one of them was the one who murdered my mother, they all stood by and watched, seeing it as one less opponent to fight with rather than the death of an innocent woman. I was going to kill them all."
And he had... or at least he had tried in the book. I licked my lips nervously, stammering out my next question. "Umm... Are you still going to do that?"
He lifted his head, his tear stained gaze meeting my own. "Would you hate me if I did?"
"Hate?" I didn't want him to be a villain. I was horrified still at the thought of him becoming a merciless killer like I had read about before. But even so, I couldn't help but smile at him. "I can't hate you. If you choose to turn against this world... I'll fight them all with you."
Maybe I'm the real villain in this story.
A hand reached out and brushed the hair away from my eyes. "I don't want to see you fight the world for me. So win or lose... I'll play this game until the end."
I breathed a small sigh of relief, separating from him and standing up, brushing the dirt from my dress. "Thank you."
"Of course," His whisper could barely be heard, "That's only as long as I can keep you safe. If they try to hurt you..."
I met his gaze, seeing a darkness that I didn't recognize there. "Luke?"
He sighed, standing up and hugging me briefly, before turning back towards the castle. "Let's get ready for the party."
________________________________
By the time the first party started I was already mentally exhausted. Before we had even left, there was a brief fight over what I would wear. My initial suggestion of wearing camouflage and hiding in the bushes was vetoed, not only by Luke, but the entire service staff. Luke's suggestion of a purple gown, the color only worn by royalty or those married to royalty was also rejected. We went back and forth a few times before deciding on a low key but expensive gown.
As I walked in a few steps behind Luke, I stared down at my ball gown. It was a little too fancy for a nameless side character, which made me nervous, but looking around at the other women in the room, I felt slightly relieved. Bright colors, large gems and very low necklines seemed to be in style. The dark green color of my gown was less eye-catching, but reminded me of my previous hunting gear, with a high collar open only at the throat, where a simple silver star necklace lay. The sleeves were long and loose, the skirt billowing out but less voluminous then those around me, the style choices allowing me unrestricted movement.
It wasn't a bad compromise.
As I looked around the room, I realized that the room had separated into groups, each centered around an older man or woman wearing a red sash with a golden key attached.
The Ten Lords.
Now that I was looking at them in person, the plot, which had evaded my memory in the past years suddenly, was more clear. In the book, Graham had used the knowledge gained from all his followers he had saved along the way to sway the Lords to his side. Each girl he had rescued, who was desperately in love with him, conveniently knew how to convince one of the Lords.
At the time, it had irritated me. I thought it was the author's way of explaining why Graham's harem and terrible treatment of the girls who cared for him was necessary. But now...
I knew exactly what to say to get the Lord's on Luke's side.
Feeling excited, I started walking towards the first group, only to be stopped by a gentle tug on my hand.
"Luke?"
At my questioning glance, he bowed with a bright smile. "May I have this dance?"
"Sure." Fortunately the dances in this world were fairly simple, not unlike a waltz back in my old life. Finally that ballroom class I took comes in handy! As we danced, we settled into an easy rhythm, and I cast a worried look around the room.
"Shouldn't we be... you know..."
Luke chuckled. "Scheming?"
"Yes!"
He shook his head. "It's only the first party. They'll use this one to feel us out, see what cards we're holding. If we're too eager, they'll be less likely to side with us in the end."
"... If I told you, I knew exactly what each of the Lords wanted in exchange for their key, would you believe me?" I felt nervous. Graham believed that Chloe and I had psychic or prophetic powers, which was easier to explain then the concept of living in the world of a fantasy book series, but I had never used the knowledge in front of Luke openly before.
Luke's gaze was serious as he continued to lead me through the dance. "I believe you."
"Aren't you going to ask how I know?" A girl who had been trapped as a slave in the Ninth Lord's household, and then spent years in the forest hunting. How could I explain my intricate knowledge of the Ten Lord's motivations?
I could just tell him the truth.
Even as I considered that tempting, terrifying option, he shook his head slowly.
"I don't need to know." Seeing my confusion, he added. "You're allowed to have secrets."
"But..."
"So relax during the first party, and we'll figure out recruiting the Lords in tomorrow night's event.
The song ended, and Luke stepped away with a small bow. I curtsied in return, but as I straightened up, someone had stepped between us with a wide smile.
"I claim the next dance."
Graham.
________________________________
Luke shook his head, reaching out to pull him away. "Don't think about it."
"Careful, brother," Evading his grasp, Graham stepped closer to me, grabbing my arm. "If you make a scene here over a woman, it will be hard to gather support from the Lords."
Luke rolled his eyes at the warning. "Like I care about that. Now let go..."
"It's fine." At my words, both men turned towards me, confused. I smiled at Luke, trying to reassure him. "It's just a dance."
"Are you sure?" Luke's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his brother's hand which was holding on to me.
"Wait for me." Pulling my arm from Graham's grasp, I positioned myself across from him, a much more formal distance than what I had danced with Luke. "Your Highness?"
Graham frowned, but took my hands and began to lead. "Why are you treating me so coldly?"
"... Are you an idiot?" I stared at him as we danced. "You do remember that you tried to drug me last time we met?"
"Only because I love you so much." His gaze was intense, with more than a little obsession brewing within. It was uncomfortable to face. "And I didn't succeed, anyways. You drugged me in the end, so actually you owe me."
I stepped on his foot. Hard. "I owe you nothing. So let's pretend we don't know each other."
"Don't fight the inevitable, Darling." His smile widened. "We're destined to be together."
Is this the confidence of the main hero of a story? I remembered that in the book he had innumerable women falling in love with him. Perhaps it had messed with his head? Realizing it would be impossible to convince him through logic, I stayed silent, hoping for the dance to end. Unfortunately, Graham kept talking, and was difficult to ignore.
"After the third party, I'll have the token back, we can announce our engagement then."
"Don't be delusional." I stepped on his foot again, smiling as he winced with pain. "We're not even friends, much less in a relationship."
"You're mine."
"I'm no one's. And you have at least eight women who would love to marry you."
His hands tightened on my own, the grip painful. "I don't want them."
"And I don't want you." I shrugged. "That's life."
"Do you want my brother?" He tried to pull me closer, but I stopped on his foot hard enough to stop the motion.
Yes. "It's not any of your business who I want."
"Fine." He snarled. "I'll become King, and then you'll have to listen."
The song ended, and I gave a sigh of relief. Graham kept holding onto my hands, despite my less than subtle attempts to pull them free. Just as I was considering a more drastic escape strategy, which would involve kneeing him in the testicles, a voice interrupted our silent struggle.
"Brother, how good to see again! How about we trade partners for the next dance?"
I looked over to see an unfamiliar smiling face. He was obviously younger, at most seventeen or eighteen years old, his golden hair and green eyes similar to Graham. But his face was more angular, giving him a sharp, severe look, and his eyes seemed to roam around the room, stopping seemingly at random as he assessed everything before him. I felt his gaze crawl over me, and shuddered with disgust at the delighted light in his eyes.
There's something wrong with this man.
"Fetter, what are you...?" Graham started to question him, but trailed off in shock as he saw the man's partner. A very familiar woman.
"Hello, Your Highness." Chloe, dressed in a long, purple gown, smiled sweetly at him.
"Chloe, you joined Fetter's side?" I was shocked. As far as I knew, she had disliked that character in Deadly Crown, obsessed over Graham instead.
At my question she shot be a glare, before recovering her expression. "I happened to get lost in the castle, and Prince Fetter was kind enough to offer to escort me." She fluttered her eyelashes at Graham. "Shall we dance, Prince Graham?"
I watched, shaking my head as Graham took her hand slowly, studying her dress with a cold expression
He might be an obsessed, egotistical prick, but he's not an idiot. Graham had been involved in intrigue since he was a small child. His mother was a scheming force to be reckoned with. Did Chloe really think he would trust her once she had shown support for Fetter?
"Let's dance." As i thought it over, Fetter took advantage of my distraction, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the center of the room, ignoring Graham's look of anger at his gesture.
________________________________
The music started up again and we began to dance.
"You don't seem excited."
"Why wouldn't I be excited?" I answered in a flat tone. "I get to dance with all three princes today. I'm honored beyond all expression."
Fetter smiled, the expression making my skin crawl. "Between dancing with the princes in a beautiful ball gown and drinking poison...?"
I thought it over. "I guess it depends on the poison. There are a few that might rank lower than this."
"I see it." He laughed. "I wondered why they were so desperate. But I see it now." He leaned closer. "It's your eyes. We've grown up crooked thanks to that worthless old man on the throne, never knowing what it would be like to have someone treat us as people instead of a tool to be used. Your eyes are refreshingly free of greed and desire. It's almost as if you have no expectations from this world."
I followed his lead silently. He was right. I didn't have any expectations. This world was nothing but a nightmare for me, with the exception of Blade and Luke. I honestly wasn't sure how I had gotten here, and if or when I would return. "Your point?" After a long silence, I asked coldly.
"My brothers covet that in you. Want to preserve it, or at least steal it away and hoard it for their own."
I lifted an eyebrow. "And what do you want?"
"Me?" His smile grew vicious. "I want to destroy it. Break you into a thousand pieces, and watch them cry as they try to put you back together, only to break you again."
My blood ran cold. "You're insane."
"We all are crazy, darling. Each and every one of us in the Royal family. Our father wanted it that way." He shrugged as he danced. "Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off. I'm just the most honest about it."
Stepping away, I ignored the fact that the dance hadn't ended, I ignored the political implications and the gossip that would be spoke about an unknown woman rudely interrupting her dance with a prince. My mind, my body, my entire being was overwhelmingly consumed by a single need.
To get away from him.
I felt it strongly. A sense of danger. A certainty of death. It hung over Fetter like a cloud, and the longer I stood next to him the more certain I was that I would not escape. I walked quickly, not noticing the mix of concerned and angry stares, until a familiar hand reached out and grabbed my own, startling me.
"Are you okay?" Luke's face was pale as he studied my own, he looked over at Fetter and I saw hatred flare up deep within his gaze.
We all are crazy.
I shook my head silently.
"We'll leave early." Pulling me along, I was surprised, barely able to keep up with his pace.
"But the test..."
"It doesn't matter." He didn't hesitate as he walked away. "None of it does."
As we moved along, I heard Luke add under his breath. "As long as you're okay."
Feeling warm, I squeezed his hand in return, following him back to his rooms.
________________________________
We sat down, in the dark and silent rooms, facing each other. The rooms were cold with the evening chill, the only light from the moonlight streaming in from the window. But it was enough light to see Luke's face.
He watched me, his expression concerned, his eyes studying every inch of my features as if to etch them into his memory. There was a hint of panic in his gaze, one hand clutched tightly at his chest as he watched me, as if he was worried that I would disappear the second he looked away.
"Should we run away?" He asked quietly, his voice serious.
"Would they let us?"
"..." He leaned his head forward, laughing bitterly. "This late in the game? They'd be more likely to have us hunt down for fear it was part of a scheme."
"Then why would you ask?"
Luke stared at me in silence for a few moments, the pain and panic becoming more clear with each passing second. "I don't want to lose you. I won't let them even have the chance."
Even your precious Lucien hides his own madness deep down so as not to scare you off.
I couldn't escape the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Remembering Graham's obsessed words, Fetter's undisguised violence... I shuddered, and reached out to hold his hand.
He was shaking. I held his hand between both of mine, feeling him slowly calm down.
I had run away tonight. I was still afraid of dying. Of being involved in the plot too much. But I wasn't going to run away again.
I took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, tired sigh. "We need to talk, Luke."
He blinked. "About what?"
"About how I got here, why I know so much, and why I refuse to have a name... it will sound crazy. You may not believe me." I swallowed uncomfortably. "But I think it's the key to surviving all this madness. Winning the crown if that's what you want. But... If...after... you want me to leave, I'll understand."
"..."
After a brief silence Luke smiled, the expression startling clear despite the fear I could still see in his eyes. "Nothing could be crazy enough for me to want that."
I didn't smile back. "Then I'll tell you about a story... called 'Deadly Crown.'"