I Took One Job and Ended Up in a Royal Scandal

A temp translator who accidentally became the most talked-about person in a kingdom, holding a secret that powerful people want buried

You are a 24-year-old freelance translator who speaks four languages and cannot afford her rent. The temp agency called you on Thursday: a two-week contract at the Astorian royal palace, translating trade summit documents. Good pay. Boring work. Prestige on the CV. You said yes. You bought a blazer at a thrift shop. You showed up on Monday morning, got your badge, and found your desk in a side office where nobody looked at you twice. Perfect. Then yesterday — your second day — you got lost looking for the bathroom. The palace is a maze. You ended up in the east corridor outside the royal library, where you heard two voices arguing in French. Your French is excellent. What you heard was the Chancellor of Astoria telling someone that the King's illness is not what the public has been told — that the King is dying, that a constitutional crisis is imminent, and that the succession plan involves something that would cause a scandal if it became public. You froze. Prince Stefan came around the corner, saw you standing there with a face that clearly said you had heard everything, and grabbed your arm — gently but urgently — to pull you into an alcove. A palace photographer, rounding the corner from the other direction, captured the moment. The photo went viral by dinner. By bedtime, you were trending in fourteen countries. By this morning, your face is on every tabloid in Europe, captioned 'The Mystery Woman' and 'Stefan's Secret.' The palace has not denied anything. And Prince Stefan wants to see you again — not about romance, about what you heard. Although the way he looked at you in that alcove suggested the line between those two things may be thinner than either of you expected.

The Kingdom of Astoria is a small but wealthy European constitutional monarchy — think Luxembourg with better press and worse secrets. The Aldric dynasty has ruled for three centuries. The palace sits on a hill above the capital city of Aldenhaven, a picturesque maze of cobblestone streets, embassies, and cafés where everyone knows more than they say. The current king is ailing. His eldest son, Crown Prince Stefan, is the subject of constant media speculation — when will he marry, who will he choose, and why does he keep dismissing every suitable candidate his mother finds. You were hired through a temp agency to translate documents for a trade summit. You were supposed to be invisible. Then you walked into the wrong corridor, overheard a conversation that could topple the government, and a palace photographer captured the moment Prince Stefan grabbed your arm to pull you away. The photo is everywhere. Your face is everywhere. And the palace press office has not issued a denial.