Royal Trouble: A Naughty Prince Meets His Match

The grand dining hall of the Zubrel Palace shimmered with golden light. Chandeliers dripped crystals like frozen raindrops, and the polished marble floor reflected the glow of hundreds of candles. The long table was set for a royal feast: silver platters steaming with roasted meats, crystal goblets lined like soldiers, and bowls of jewel-bright fruit that perfumed the air with sweetness. At the far end of the room, the heavy double doors swung open. “Isabella!” “Margaret!” The two queens rushed toward each other, their gowns whispering across the marble, and embraced with the enthusiasm of schoolgirls rather than royalty. Their crowns clinked softly as they hugged, laughing in delight. “It’s been ages,” Isabella exclaimed, stepping back just enough to hold Margaret’s face between her hands. “You’ve grown so slim—don’t tell me Edward isn’t feeding you properly?” Margaret gave a mock gasp and swatted her friend’s arm. “He wouldn’t dare.” Behind them, King Zubrel and King Edward c

The last plates had been cleared, and the echo of laughter from the lounge was fading as the royal families prepared to part ways. Queen Isabella clasped her daughter’s hands with a warm smile. “Ariel,” she said casually, “you’ll be going with them tonight. It’s best you get used to Carl’s household before the wedding next week.” Ariel’s jaw nearly dropped. “You don’t mean that, Mom! How could you even suggest such a thing? And you never told me about this before!” Isabella’s tone was sweet, but her eyes held a glint of amusement. “Why such dramatics? You two already love each other—why the protest?” “Love each other?” Ariel sputtered. “We barely know each other! And—” Isabella cut her off with a wave of her jeweled hand. “Don’t worry. Margaret is a very good friend. She won’t let you suffer for even a moment.” Ariel opened her mouth to argue again, but before she could, Carl stepped forward with a mischievous grin. “Allow me,” he said. Before Ariel could react, he scooped her e

The morning sun filtered gently through the towering glass windows of the palace dining hall, spilling golden light across the long mahogany table. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasted sausages, and brewed coffee filled the air. Crystal goblets caught the light like diamonds, while silver cutlery glimmered on polished plates. The grand chandelier above twinkled, as if the heavens themselves had descended to witness the royal family’s daily spectacle.At the far end of the table, Prince Carl slouched in his chair, one arm draped lazily across the backrest, his other hand swirling the contents of his wine glass. He wasn’t drinking—only moving the red liquid in slow circles, as though it were something to control when he couldn’t control his life. His hair was slightly tousled, his dark suit jacket open, a picture of casual arrogance.Across from him sat Ariel, posture perfect, her chin tilted proudly toward the ceiling. She wasn’t touching the food either—merely tracing the rim of

King Edward sat in the royal study, a warm cup of tea in his hands. Sunlight spilled through the tall arched windows, glinting off shelves lined with old books and golden picture frames. Queen Magarette entered quietly, her emerald gown swishing across the marble floor. She was smiling so brightly Edward had to look twice. “Well, well,” Edward said, setting his cup down. “What has you glowing like a sunrise?” Magarette clasped her hands dramatically. “Edward, can you see it? Our son—our rude, impossible, fire-breathing Carl—has turned into a lovesick prince overnight!” Edward raised an eyebrow. “Lovesick? Carl?” “Yes!” she exclaimed, sitting beside him. “You should have seen them today. He didn’t even have time to fire the maids. He was happy, Edward. Happy. I could see it in his eyes—he loves Ariel. They’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Edward chuckled. “Oh? That’s quite the improvement.” Magarette leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “And… I think they

The palace was still buzzing with laughter from Ariel’s friends when she stood up, ready to fetch another drink from the table. She had barely taken two steps when her heel caught on the edge of the rug. “Ah—!” Ariel wobbled dangerously, arms flailing like a windmill about to collapse. Carl, who had been standing nearby pretending not to watch her, reacted on instinct. He lunged forward to steady her. But instead of grabbing her arm, he overreached— and their faces collided. For the briefest second, everything froze. Their lips brushed. It wasn’t deep, it wasn’t planned—but it was enough to ignite a fire. A soft gasp escaped Ariel’s throat as her wide eyes locked with Carl’s. The world around them seemed to disappear—the girls’ chatter faded, the palace air stilled, and the only sound was the pounding of two racing hearts. Her perfume clung faintly to his shirt, a soft floral note mixing with the warmth of his breath. His lips felt unexpectedly warm, not the enemy’s lips she i