The sea outside the porthole was black and restless, the kind of water that didn’t reflect starlight—only swallowed it.
Rhine sat at the small desk in his cabin, turning a Nightmare Coin between his fingers.
The coin’s surface was worn smooth, but the cold in it never faded. It felt less like metal and more like a knot of intent—something that wanted to be held, wanted to be spent, wanted to circulate.
He stood, opened the porthole, and flicked the coin into the night.
It spun once, flashed a dull glint, and vanished into the waves.
Rhine watched for a long moment.
Nothing floated back. No phantom tug. No invisible line yanking it home.
“Interesting,” he murmured, closing the porthole.
If a coin could be drowned, then a medium could be interrupted. That mattered.
A knock came at the door, sharp and urgent.
Morningstar slipped inside without waiting for permission, face tight. “We’ve got trouble.”
Rhine looked up. “How bad?”
“Red Falcon’s been arrested.”
The name hit like a hook.
Morningstar continued quickly, as if speaking faster could keep the situation from worsening. “The Crown Prince publicly charged him with treason and had him hauled into custody.”
Rhine kept his expression neutral. “And the reason?”
“They didn’t bother with one that makes sense.” Morningstar’s mouth twisted. “They’re calling him a traitor. That’s all most people need to hear.”
Rhine nodded once, slow.
In a kingdom where law flowed downhill from the throne, “treason” was a blade you could swing at anyone.
Morningstar drew a breath and added, “There’s more. Baron Warner has also been arrested.”
Rhine’s fingers stilled.
Baron Warner—Yanyan Huang’s father. The noble with the money and the influence to back Earth Ring projects in the capital.
Morningstar lowered her voice. “They’re saying he murdered the old king.”
For a second, Rhine couldn’t help the flicker of disbelief.
The cynicism landed.
“Convenient,” he said.
Morningstar nodded. “Exactly. They’re using the king’s death to purge people they don’t like.”
Rhine’s gaze sharpened. “Warner has enemies, but not that kind. What does the Crown Prince gain?”
Morningstar leaned against the wall, choosing her words. “The Warner family is… huge. Not old nobility, but new money with roots everywhere. They bought shipyards. They invested in railroads. They poured gold into steam tech and new industrial methods. A lot of what’s ‘modern’ in the kingdom has the Warner seal stamped on it.”
Rhine’s mind flashed to the Player World—blueprints, materials, instructions smuggled across with Contribution Points and favors.
Of course.
If Earth Ring wanted to accelerate the Endless Sea’s industrial base, it needed people like Warner. And Warner’s only daughter was Yanyan Huang.
Which meant this wasn’t just palace politics.
It was a strike at the networks holding the future together.
Morningstar’s voice tightened. “The Crown Prince wants his money. Plain and simple.”
Rhine’s eyes narrowed. “And Yanyan?”
Morningstar hesitated. “She’s on her way to the Royal Capital.”
Rhine’s stomach dipped.
“Why would she come?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
Morningstar’s gaze softened, just a little. “Because that’s her father.”
Rhine looked at the dark sea beyond the glass.
The Crown Prince had a puppet-master behind him, and Nightmare had a way of turning people into strings.
If Yanyan walked into the capital now, she’d either be used as leverage…
Or become the next body on the altar.
Rhine let out a slow breath.
“Then we get there before the net tightens,” he said.
Morningstar nodded once. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”