"Tsk!"
The Queen slammed her fist on the throne.
Her teeth gritted, fury burning through her veins, she pushed herself up, the sharp sound of her heels echoing through the throne room as she turned away.
She couldn't watch this any longer.
She refused to witness such disgrace—the sight alone made her sick to her stomach.
Rather than remain in this mockery of an event, rather than acknowledge the bastard child, she chose to leave.
Yet—
No one stopped her.
No one called out to her.
No one cared.
Not a single glance followed the Queen as she strode back toward her private quarters, her hands clenched into fists, the weight of rejection settling deep in her chest.
Because the truth was—
No one liked her.
She might hold the title of Queen, but she was no ruler in the eyes of the kingdom.
Not truly.
Not when her power existed only in control, cruelty, and suffocating authority.
She had killed a kind woman, a woman who had done nothing, a woman who had trusted her—only to be betrayed for wealth and status.
For jealousy.
For a twisted love that had never truly belonged to her.
"Uh…" Mika finally felt relieved now that the Queen was gone. The stifling presence had vanished, making it easier to breathe.
He lifted his head to look at his father, ready to get straight to the point. "Why are you summoning me, Your Highne—"
"Father," Zane cut in instantly, voice firm with expectation.
Mika ignored him entirely. "Your Highness, why are you summoning me to the royal palace?"
Zane openly pouted, his disappointment evident as he pressed his lips together. But instead of sulking, he stood back up, fixing his appearance with a deep breath.
Clearing his throat, he dramatically flung his cape behind him, holding out his hand in a grand proclamation.
"Mika, my son. From now on, you are…"
Pause.
Blink.
…Another blink.
Zane slowly turned toward Elain, his proud composure faltering as he gave him puppy eyes full of helplessness.
Elain chuckled, shaking his head as if this was nothing new.
With a practiced motion, he placed a hand over his chest, bowed slightly, and elegantly stepped in for his lord.
"Prince Mika," he announced smoothly, "His Highness summoned you here because yesterday, the Cathedral sent a message."
Mika's body tensed instantly, his eyes narrowing slightly in expectation.
Elain smiled slightly, catching his reaction but continued, "The Holy Maiden has received a divine oracle—a prophecy sent directly from the gods."
Mika's eyes widened, his breath caught for just a moment.
'An oracle? This early? I thought she wouldn't receive her third oracle until she turned twenty-three—exactly two years from now. But she got it now… That means I've really changed fate.'
Elain observed Mika's silent realization before delivering the final words with precision.
"The oracle states—You, the Third Prince of Eirnard Kingdom, must be publicly announced as royalty."
Mika blinked once. Then twice.
Then—
"What?!"
His voice echoed through the throne room, sheer shock bursting through his expression as he stumbled a step back, completely blindsided by the oracle.
Why would the gods want him to be announced publicly?
Wait.
Does this mean his peaceful life is gone as quickly as it came?
His life as an abandoned prince, where he could laze around, nap all day, and avoid responsibility?
It's all gone!!
Meanwhile, Zane was positively sparkling.
"Yup!" he chirped, his grin blindingly bright. "The gods said they'll give this kingdom divine punishment unless you officially become a prince!"
'Don't say something so terrifying with such a happy face.'
Arthur and Louis stared at Zane, their expressions deadpan, utterly unimpressed.
Mika, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.
Zane, oblivious to the panic, clasped his hands together, eyes shimmering with pure excitement.
"Isn't this great?!" he declared. "I finally get to call you my son without shame! No one can say anything now—the gods themselves want you officially titled as the Third Prince!"
He looked at Mika like an excited child, practically bouncing in place, his hands clenching in determination.
Elain, ever composed, tilted his head slightly, giving the king a polite, knowing smile.
"I know you're excited, my lord," Elain said smoothly, "but don't you think it would be better to do this properly?"
Zane froze, blinking at Elain's pointed expression—one that clearly said: 'Don't embarrass me. Do your job properly.'
Zane let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat.
"A-ah, right," he muttered.
Then, more firmly—
"Stay here for a week. We're doing your coronation as the prince in three days."
Mika shoulders slump in dejected manner, if he officially a prince now he legally have to do royalty thing.
The weight of expectation presses down on him, suffocating the last traces of resistance. His quiet, uneventful days have come to an abrupt end.
The freedom he barely tasted is now gone, and there is no escaping the reality of what comes next.
Goodbye my short peaceful life.
I miss our few days together.
"...As you wish." Mika lowers his head as he puts one hand on his chest, sealing his fate with reluctant acceptance.
As he lifts his head back up, his eyes widen at the sight of a girl, barely seven years old, sprinting toward him with reckless enthusiasm. Before he can react, she jumps straight into his arms, forcing Mika to instinctively kneel down to catch her.
The impact jolts him slightly, making him grunt in discomfort as her small arms wrap tightly around his neck, using him for support as she dangles against him effortlessly, her laughter ringing in his ears like a bright melody.
"Hey! Luna, you shouldn't do that!"
Mika looks toward the source of the voice and sees a boy who looks just like Luna but shorter, with messy pink hair that falls over his narrowed red eyes.
He stands beside Elain stiffly, uncertain, but the moment he sees Mika looking at him, his cheeks flush bright red and he quickly ducks behind the head butler, avoiding direct eye contact like a startled kitten.
"Sol~ you so shy! He our big brother!" Luna giggles as she looks at Mika with sparkling eyes and open adoration.
Sol hesitates for a moment but remains behind Elain's leg, his gaze flickering between his twin sister and Mika, unsure whether to step forward or keep hiding.
'Big brother? Ah, this two are..' Mika looks between Sol and Luna, his pulse steady but his thoughts racing. 'The main characters of the author's second novel. The twin reincarnation of Sun God and Moon God.'
Mika lets Luna down to the floor as he wipes away the sweat forming on his temple, feeling the weight of realization settle inside him. 'I didn't really read it since it only released two weeks before my death…'
Luna and Sol, the main characters of the sequel to Crimson Revenge, titled; The Sun Finally Set And The Moon Disappear.
Mika doesn't know anything other than the story about the twins fighting for the throne after the King dies.
That's all he knows.
There's no explanation for how the King died.
The novel simply begins with the twins already at war for the title.
Looking at the twin pair standing before him, Mika frowns slightly. He doesn't know much about them—not really.
When Mika left the mansion, the twins had already been sent to the royal academy, separating them from him entirely.
But now, seeing them like this, so young, so unaware of the bloodshed awaiting them in their future, he feels something strange twist inside him.
A pair of twins fighting over something as meaningless as a position.
A throne that holds no true meaning if taken by force.
A throne that was supposed to belong to the eldest brother.
The Queen's influence on them is strong.
Too strong.
It makes Mika feel, without hesitation, that he should change these two's fate too.
"Luna, you are a princess. Behave yourself." The stern and cold voice makes Mika and Luna tense up.
Mika looks at the source of the voice and sees three men standing behind the king. His hands clench tightly at his sides. His nails dig into his palms, a desperate attempt to steady the storm brewing in his chest.
'The eldest brother, Kyle Wyatt Verhault.'
Kyle is a young man with pink hair that fades to blond at the tips. His mismatched eyes—red on the left, grey on the right—pierce through Mika with a cold, unreadable stare. There is no warmth, no flicker of acknowledgment—just an unrelenting wall of indifference. Standing at 5'11, his presence alone carries an intimidating weight, pressing against Mika's lungs like frozen iron.
'And his twin... Kyren Wyatt Verhault.'
Beside Kyle stands someone identical to him, a perfect mirror, except for his eyes—red on the right, grey on the left. The only difference between them, yet the way Kyren carries himself makes him feel worlds apart.
If Kyle is sharp and ruthless like winter frost, Kyren is the void—detached, unbothered, as if he exists outside of time itself. He doesn't so much as glance at Mika. Since the moment Mika stepped into the room, Kyren has refused to meet anyone's gaze, as if acknowledging their existence would be beneath him.
If Kyle is a cold prince, then Kyren is an arrogant one.
Mika swallows hard, shifting his gaze to the man standing between the twins. 'It's their childhood friend... Arthur Squire. Cyrus Andeline.'
Unlike Kyle's frigid demeanor and Kyren's aloofness, Cyrus wears a carefree smile—a devil-may-care curve of his lips that is both disarming and infuriating. There is no hesitation in his movements, no sense of decorum as he crosses the space between them with lazy confidence, hands casually tucked into his pockets. His downturned pink eyes carry a mischievous gleam, framed by thick light blue lashes. His light blue hair is slicked back, held in place by a headband adorned with strawberry charms—completely ridiculous, yet somehow fitting.
"Awh, c'mon, you two~ We finally see your cute little brother~" His voice is a melody of teasing and playfulness, light as air, effortlessly grating against Mika's nerves.
Before Mika can react, Cyrus places a hand on his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he ruffles it with unrestrained affection.
"See~ he's sooo cute~"
Mika stiffens. The stark contrast between the brothers and Cyrus is like night and day—Kyle's voice carries a growling weight, suffocating in its cold authority, while Cyrus' words are buoyant and sweet, floating just above the surface.
Kyren, meanwhile, doesn't speak a word.
Mika lets out a gasp when Cyrus effortlessly pulls him up. His breath catches in his throat.
'I-is he 6'5?'
Mika tilts his head, looking toward the second brother, suddenly aware of how Cyrus towers over even Louis.
'Thinking back... he wears really...'
Cyrus' attire—a pink robe pooling around his elbows—slides down, exposing broad shoulders and a strong chest. The robe is ridiculous, but somehow it makes him feel even larger, more overwhelming.
His face exuded undeniable cuteness, yet his body carried a masculine strength that made Mika's breath hitch. The contrast was startling, almost unsettling—a delicate balance of charm and dominance wrapped into one.
'Ah, wait… Cyrus… is blessed by the God of Love.'
Mika's thoughts raced as the realization hit him. Cyrus had barely appeared in the story—his presence nothing more than a fleeting detail, lost in the background. Yet he was blessed by a god. A god of love, no less. Mika had dismissed him before, but now, looking at him up close, he understood.
Everything about Cyrus commanded attention.
'Even his scent… It's sweet yet… manly.'
Mika swallowed hard, unsure whether he was fascinated or simply overwhelmed.
And then, Cyrus smiled—bright, effortless, as if the world was in the palm of his hand.
"Sooo cute~"
Before Mika could react, his cheeks were squished, warm fingers pressing in with teasing insistence.
Mika let out a sharp yelp, completely caught off guard.
"C'mon, little brother~ I'll show youuu the room you will staaay today~"
Then, without hesitation, Cyrus lifted him.
By the armpits.
Like a cat.
Mika froze, flustered beyond reason as he dangled in Cyrus' grasp, utterly powerless. His mind went blank, his legs kicking slightly in protest, yet Cyrus didn't seem fazed in the slightest.
Luna giggled, grabbing onto Cyrus' robe like a monkey, climbing up with ease. Sol gasped and rushed forward, gripping Cyrus' leg tightly, as if clinging to the older male would somehow keep them all connected.
Cyrus only laughed, adjusting his steps carefully, ensuring he didn't hurt the young prince hanging onto him.
Louis' eyes widened slightly. He instinctively stepped forward, ready to follow—but before he could move, Kyle intercepted him. Their gazes locked in a silent battle.
Kyle wouldn't let some unnamed knight step further into the palace.
Louis refused to let some snobbish, arrogant prince stand in his way.
Neither moved.
Then, without a word, Kyren strode past them, his presence shattering the moment with effortless indifference. He didn't spare them a glance, didn't acknowledge them—as if Kyle, his own brother, wasn't worth his time, and Louis was beneath recognition.
Kyle clicked his tongue in irritation, shooting Louis one last glare before following his twin.
Louis clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling—but before he could act, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.
"Come on, Louis. I'll show you the knights' quarters."
Arthur's voice was light, almost amused, guiding him away before he could resist.
Louis hesitated. He wanted to push past Kyle. He wanted to follow Mika.
But then he sighed, reluctantly allowing Arthur to lead him away.
The room slowly emptied, bodies filtering out as duties called them elsewhere.
And then—
"...Wait, what about me?"
Zane stood there, frozen, utterly dumbfounded.
Everyone had left.
They hadn't even waited for his dismissal.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
His expression darkened.
"I'm the king here!!"