CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3 — A Different Armin

This scene marked the final episode of the season.

The Crown Prince, protagonist of The Throne, was in the middle of negotiating a peace treaty with the rulers of a neighboring kingdom after years of war. Everything appeared peaceful.

Too peaceful.

During the banquet, both sides raised their goblets in celebration, smiling as if the bloodshed between the two nations had finally come to an end.

But hidden beneath the calm atmosphere…

An assassin waited.

After rehearsal ended, the actors returned to their positions while the staff finalized the lighting and camera angles.

The entire filming set grew quiet.

“The Throne, Scene Eighty-One!”

The assistant director raised the clapperboard.

“Three… two… one…”

“Action!”

At the center of the hall, the Crown Prince sat proudly at the head of the table. His sharp eyes swept across the gathered nobles and ambassadors before a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

“To peace,” he declared, lifting his goblet. “And to the alliance between our two nations.”

The guests immediately raised their cups together.

“Drink!”

Laughter and celebration echoed throughout the grand hall.

Beside the Crown Prince sat the Fifth Prince.

Quiet.

Observant.

His gaze swept carefully across the room.

Then—

His pupils suddenly contracted.

A flash of cold silver reflected beneath the sleeve of one of the ambassadors.

A weapon.

“Your Highness, watch out!”

The Fifth Prince shouted at the top of his lungs before throwing himself forward.

Crash!

A goblet shattered against the floor.

The Crown Prince’s eyes widened in shock as the younger prince blocked him completely.

Then—

Thud.

An arrow pierced straight through the Fifth Prince’s back.

For one terrifying moment, the entire hall fell silent.

“There’s an assassin!”

The guards immediately drew their swords.

Chaos erupted.

Some soldiers chased after the fleeing assassin while others surrounded the foreign ambassadors cautiously.

Blood slowly spread across the Fifth Prince’s robes.

His body trembled violently before he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The Crown Prince hurriedly caught him before he could collapse onto the floor.

“Fifth Prince!”

Shock filled the Crown Prince’s face as he stared at the blood staining his younger brother’s lips.

The Fifth Prince weakly grabbed onto his robes, struggling desperately to breathe.

Yet despite the pain…

He still smiled.

“Y-Your Highness…” he whispered hoarsely. “Are you alright…?”

“I’m fine! Someone call the royal physician immediately!” the Crown Prince shouted frantically.

But suddenly—

A weak hand gripped his arm tightly.

The Crown Prince looked down again.

The Fifth Prince’s bright eyes had already begun filling with tears.

“Take care… of yourself…”

Tears slowly rolled down his pale face.

“Promise me…” he whispered painfully, “you’ll become king… of this country…”

The Crown Prince clenched his hand tightly.

“…I promise.”

The Fifth Prince slowly lifted his trembling hand toward him.

“Promise me.”

“…Yes,” the Crown Prince replied immediately, his voice breaking. “I promise.”

Only then did the younger prince smile again.

A small smile.

Gentle.

Satisfied.

“Good…”

The light in his eyes slowly began fading.

His breathing weakened little by little.

Then, almost inaudibly, he murmured,

“Why are they… so slow… not even a little…”

His voice disappeared completely.

The hand gripping the Crown Prince’s sleeve fell lifelessly.

His eyes remained open.

Still.

Silent.

Dead.

…

Complete silence filled the studio.

Everyone stared blankly at the scene before them.

Even the staff behind the cameras had forgotten to move.

Meanwhile, lying there in Tiwa’s arms, mentally cursed.

(Can someone please say “cut” already? My back is cramping to death here!)

But nobody spoke.

The emotional atmosphere was so overwhelming that even the lead actor forgot his next line entirely.

Finally—

“I think we should cut before that actor actually dies for real,” someone joked weakly from the corner of the studio.

The director snapped out of his trance immediately.

“C-Cut!”

The moment the word was spoken, Armin instantly sat upright with relief.

“Ow—”

Tiwa nearly fell backward from the sudden movement.

The director, however, ignored him completely.

Instead, he rushed straight toward Armin with shining eyes.

“Armin!”

The older man grabbed both of his shoulders emotionally.

“You absolutely cannot reject my next project!”

Armin blinked in surprise.

“…Sir?”

The director looked like someone who had accidentally discovered buried treasure.

He didn’t care where this kid suddenly learned to act.

He didn’t care why the performance changed overnight.

What mattered was the fact that the scene they had just filmed was incredible.

Otherwise—

How could even the male lead forget his lines halfway through?

“Sir… was that scene usable?” Armin asked cautiously.

“Usable?” the director nearly exploded. “That was perfect!”

“…But Tiwa forgot his line.”

“We’ll edit it!” the director waved dismissively. “No problem at all!”

Honestly, he doubted they could recreate such raw emotion if they tried again.

Only then did he reluctantly release Armin and turn toward the frozen male lead nearby.

“Tiwa! We’re filming your close-up next. And this time, remember your lines!”

“…Yes, Director.”

But even while answering, Tiwa’s eyes remained fixed on Armin’s retreating figure.

Something about him felt completely different today.

On the other side of the set, several makeup artists surrounded Armin excitedly while removing his wig and makeup.

“That death scene was beautiful.”

“You made me cry!”

“I suddenly feel proud even though I only did your eyeliner.”

Armin laughed helplessly.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

After saying goodbye to the staff politely, he headed toward his old car.

But before he could open the door—

“Wait, Armin!”

He turned around.

Tiwa jogged toward him with a complicated expression.

“What is it?”

Tiwa hesitated for several seconds before blurting out,

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You used to act terribly,” Tiwa said honestly before immediately regretting it. “I mean—not terrible terrible, but…”

Armin raised an eyebrow.

“…Continue.”

Tiwa coughed awkwardly.

“You disappear for two days because of a fever and suddenly come back acting like that? I was genuinely shocked.”

Armin chuckled softly.

“I just stayed home and practiced.”

“…That much improvement from practice alone?”

Armin only smiled mysteriously.

“If there’s nothing else, I should go.”

“…Ah. Right.”

Tiwa scratched his neck awkwardly before suddenly adding,

“Your new hairstyle looks good.”

“Thank you.”

Armin opened the car door before glancing back briefly.

“Let’s meet again someday.”

Tiwa stood there watching silently as the old battered car slowly drove away from the studio.

He had a strange feeling…

That today was the last time he would ever look down on Armin again.

—

Inside another luxury car parked nearby, a blond young man leaned lazily against the seat while glancing toward the cold man sitting beside him.

“Who was that actor?”

The sharp-eyed man beside him didn’t even look away from the window.

“None of your business.”

The blond man sighed dramatically.

“You’ve been staring at him this whole time.”

Still no response.

The driver quietly started the car.

The blond man——leaned forward curiously.

“If you like him that much, why not just offer him a contract?”

Silence.

“Mr. Thada?”

Only then did the cold man finally speak.

“Don’t forget our agreement, Rin.”

Narin immediately stiffened.

“…I understand.”

The atmosphere inside the car instantly turned heavy.

“You don’t love me,” the older man said calmly. “You simply want to keep me for yourself.”

Narin swallowed nervously.

“You give me fame,” he replied quietly. “I give you my body. That’s all.”

The older man finally glanced toward him.

Dark eyes.

Cold and unreadable.

“Good,” he said softly. “That’s why you lasted longer than the others.”

Narin lowered his gaze silently afterward.

Meanwhile, the man beside him rested his head against the seat again.

But his thoughts remained fixed on only one person.

Armin.

Especially the image of him lying motionless beneath artificial rain and blood earlier.

For some reason…

His chest still ached strangely.

—

Meanwhile, Armin drove toward his next schedule.

A low-budget fashion magazine photoshoot.

While driving, he checked the reminder notification on his phone and sighed tiredly.

His manager truly was unreliable.

Sometimes she forgot to inform him about schedules completely, resulting in him getting blamed for being “unprofessional.”

Because of that, Armin had long since learned to record every schedule himself.

“Janine…” he muttered helplessly, thinking about the competent manager from his future life. “I miss you so much.”

Unfortunately, reality was cruel.

The moment he arrived at the studio, chaos greeted him immediately.

“Armin?!”

A chubby female manager looked horrified after seeing him enter.

“What are you doing here?!”

Armin paused slowly.

Beside her stood a young actor with brown hair wearing expensive styled clothing.

The smug smile on his face made Armin instantly understand everything.

“Oh,” he said softly.

The photographer nearby frowned in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

The manager hurriedly laughed awkwardly.

“Armin was sick, so I recommended Achi instead.”

“But I specifically requested Armin,” the photographer replied immediately.

“Well, the contract already changed—”

“It’s alright.”

Everyone turned toward Armin.

The actor smiled calmly.

“I understand now. Since I was sick, Manager Lily decided to give my schedule to another artist.”

His tone remained polite.

Too polite.

“But it would’ve been nice if someone informed me beforehand,” he continued softly. “That way I wouldn’t have come here while still recovering.”

The surrounding staff immediately exchanged glances.

Ah.

So that’s what happened.

The manager’s face turned ugly instantly.

“Armin, let’s discuss this outside.”

But Armin calmly stepped back.

“I even wrote this schedule down myself because I was worried someone might forget again,” he said lightly.

The subtle emphasis on again made the atmosphere even more awkward.

Then he bowed politely toward the staff.

“I’m sorry for disturbing everyone.”

Without another word, he turned and left.

Whispers immediately erupted behind him.

Armin ignored all of it while walking calmly back toward his car.

Unlike before, he no longer felt angry enough to explode publicly.

Because now he understood something clearly.

The first thing he needed to deal with in this new life…

Was his agency.

THADA

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