The Trend of Short Dramas Reaches Ancient Times
Ryder Sinclair shook his head, completely lost. "Wait, wasn't I called here for a job at The Capital Inspection Bureau?"
The Fourth Princess rolled her eyes. "You? Get a job at the Bureau? Please. We called you because we heard you can write scripts."
The word "scripts" sent a sick jolt through Ryder's stomach. He could still see his father's face, ignoring his pleas as he tossed the manuscripts Ryder had poured his heart into onto the fire.
"I don't write scripts," he said, his voice flat.
"Don't be so modest," Cassidy Sterling said, patting his shoulder. "I have high hopes for you. Just hear me out."
Ryder didn't want to hear anything, but one look at the two women clenching their fists told him to keep his mouth shut. You gotta play by their rules when you're on their turf. The second he was out of this Spring Breeze Tower, he'd like to see them try and boss him around.
When he wisely fell silent, Cassidy's hands relaxed. "I brought you here to write scripts for me. I'm going to have people perform them on stage."
Ryder sat up a little straighter, a spark of interest cutting through his resentment. "So, like a theater troupe?" The idea of a real troupe performing his work... that actually sounded pretty cool.
Sensing she had him, Cassidy leaned in. "But I'm not looking for just any ordinary scripts."
That got both Ryder and the princess's attention. They looked at her, confused. Cassidy had someone bring in a pot of tea and motioned for them all to sit.
"I want to create something extraordinary," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Something that grabs people by the throat and hits them right in the gut."
Ryder slumped back in his chair, suddenly boneless. "Then you're seriously overestimating me. My father might be the Grand Tutor, but I didn't inherit any of his talent. If you want something that profound, you should ask him."
Seeing his lazy posture, Cassidy shot the princess a skeptical look. "Are you sure this guy can actually write?"
The Fourth Princess hesitated. "Maybe we should find someone else?"
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Ryder shot upright in his seat, stung. "Who do you think you're looking down on?"
It was just writing something that "hits you in the gut," right? He'd read a few more books than these two, that was for sure. He could definitely come up with something that would resonate with them.
Not wanting to crush his sudden flash of pride, Cassidy decided to play along. "Okay, how about this? I'll describe the script we want for the grand opening of the Spring Breeze Tower. I'll give you the general idea, and you can write it out."
Ryder gritted his teeth, feeling like he was being tested. "Fine. Bring me paper and a brush." He'd just see what kind of "gut-hitting" story she could possibly dream up.
Soon, fresh paper and a brush were laid out before him. Ryder spread the paper, dipped the brush in ink, and gestured for Cassidy to begin.
Cassidy rubbed her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Let me think..."
Just as Ryder braced himself for something deeply intellectual, Cassidy's face lit up.
"Let's write about the drama, the love, and the hate between Landon Vance and Percival Dawes. We'll call it... *'The Possessive Heir's Tainted Love.'* What do you think?"
Ryder's brush clattered to the floor.
The Fourth Princess spit out the pastry she'd just popped into her mouth.
"What did you say?" they both blurted out in unison.
"Not good?" Cassidy asked, unfazed. "Okay, new title. How about... *'Heir, Your Pampered Husband Has Run Away Again'*? How's that? Does that grab you?"
Ryder swallowed hard. So *this* was what she meant by "hitting you in the gut." But he had to admit, the title Cassidy had come up with was catchy as hell.
The Fourth Princess's shock quickly morphed into wide-eyed glee. "Ryder, write it! Hurry! I have to see a troupe perform 'Heir Vance and His Runaway Pampered Husband!'"
Her grandmother used to invite famous theater troupes to the palace, but she'd always found their cliche love stories painfully boring. But *this*... this she had to see.
Ryder fumbled to pick up his brush. After hearing Cassidy's title, a whole new world of creative possibility had just cracked open in front of him. So *this* was how you could write. He'd been way too conservative before.
A proud, almost paternal smile spread across Cassidy's face. He got it.
"Start writing," she said. "If you get stuck, just ask. I'll help you with ideas. I believe in you. Whether our Spring Breeze Tower is a success or not depends entirely on your scripts. If you do a good job, you'll get a ten percent share of all future profits."
It looked like all those years of binge-watching dramas and reading novels weren't a waste after all. She was finally putting her expertise to use.
Ryder, however, wasn't even thinking about the money.
He was completely lost in the world Cassidy's titles had conjured, too inspired to care about profits.
He grabbed the brush and began writing like a man possessed, with Cassidy standing by, throwing out plot points.
The more Ryder wrote, the brighter his eyes shone, until finally he let out a whoop of pure excitement.
"Princess Solana! You're a genius! From this day on, you're my mentor! My idol! Please, teach me how to write!"
Ryder's eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated admiration.
He was ready to build a shrine to her. The scripts he'd written before were nothing but trash.
It was no wonder his father had burned them.
He was suddenly, deeply bummed that Cassidy's last name wasn't Sinclair.
Cassidy just shot him a look of disgust. She definitely did not want this problem child as a disciple.
Meanwhile, listening to Cassidy spin a dramatic romance about Landon Vance and Percival Dawes, a tense game of cat and mouse, a fate they couldn't escape, the Fourth Princess felt a pang of guilt.
She couldn't believe she'd once tried to compete with Cassidy for Landon's affection, making it harder for the two star-crossed lovers to be together.
She sighed. The romance between two men was truly beautiful.
"Cassidy, you're incredible," the princess said. "How did I never know you had a talent for this?"
Cassidy waved a modest hand. "Oh, writing scripts is just a minor talent of mine. It's totally normal you didn't know."
The princess immediately took back her praise.
This girl's head got big way too fast. She quickly changed the subject.
"Cassidy, after we finish this, do you think we could write about other stories? The big houses in Argent are full of them."
Especially the juicy stuff that went on behind closed doors.
Cassidy gave her a thumbs-up. "Great idea. From now on, you and I will be in charge of digging up dirt, and Ryder here will be in charge of writing it all down."
*These two are going to get us all beaten to a pulp by every powerful family in Argent,* Ryder thought.
"So, are we writing about my father next?" he joked.
"Your father is so lucky to have you," Cassidy deadpanned.
"Such a good son," the Fourth Princess added.
They shared a look of mutual disdain for him before pointedly turning away.
"So," Cassidy said to the princess, "is there anyone in Argent you can't stand? We'll write about them next."
The Fourth Princess just stared at her. Before today, the person she couldn't stand most in all of Argent was, quite obviously, Cassidy herself.
Cassidy was smart enough to drop the subject.
As the three of them threw themselves into their new plans for the Spring Breeze Tower, the date of the Empress Dowager's Flower Appreciation Banquet drew ever closer.