All Chapters of In Love With The Prince : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Prince Gilan’s POV “We have landed at the airport. Thank you for traveling with Safe Travels Line.” Thank God, I’ve finally arrived safely back in my hometown. The last time I left this place, I was just a boy heading abroad to pursue my studies. That was five years ago. Now, I’ve returned, not as a boy, but as a grown man and a proud graduate. I know my parents will be overjoyed and proud of me. My name is Gilan June. I’m the only son of my parents, their pride and joy. They adore me deeply, and I love them just as much. I’m also the firstborn child, with a younger sister named Juliet. My father is the king of our land, which makes me a prince. My mother is the queen, and Juliet is our beautiful princess. Our family is greatly respected in the kingdom. The palace is heavily guarded at all times. I’ve always felt incredibly blessed to be born into royalty. It came with many privileges, one of them being the opportunity to study abroad. “My prince, the car is here,” my driver

Prince Gilan’s POV I’m stirred from sleep by soft but persistent knocks at my door. “Who’s disturbing my rest?” I mutter groggily, my voice barely audible. The exhaustion from my long journey still weighs heavily on me, and all I wanted was uninterrupted sleep. “Who is it? Is that you, Mother?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. “No… May I come in, please?” It’s a woman’s voice, gentle, familiar, but I can’t quite place it. The sound tugs at a memory I can’t fully recall. “The door’s not locked. You can come in,” I reply, pushing myself upright and sitting on the edge of the bed. She steps inside, and I’m taken aback. There she stands, a picture of poise and elegance. The light from the corridor spills around her, catching in the waves of her hair and outlining her figure in a soft glow. Her eyes shimmer with confidence, her dress flowing with subtle grace, and her lips curve into a small, expectant smile. She’s… beautiful. Unmistakably so. For a moment, I forget everything else

Gilan’s POV I opened my eyes slowly, only to find darkness outside my window. Night had already fallen. I couldn’t believe I had slept for so long. The exhaustion from my travels had completely taken over me. I had barely laid down, and now it was already nighttime. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, still feeling a bit disoriented. A knock on the door pulled me from my daze. “My prince, may I come in?” came a soft voice—it was one of the palace maids. “Yes, come in,” I responded, my voice still a little rough from sleep. The door creaked open, and she stepped inside with a slight bow. “The dinner is ready, Your Highness. Your parents are asking for you to join them at the table,” she informed me respectfully. “Alright,” I replied as I stood up and stretched. “Tell them I’ll be down shortly. Let me freshen up first.” She bowed again and quietly left the room. I didn’t waste any more time. I headed straight to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to shake off the fatigue. A

Prince Gilan’s POV The moment I step into the palace, my mother’s voice echoes through the grand hall like a sharp arrow, cutting straight through me. “Where are you coming from? I hope you’ve made things right with Amara.” That’s the very first thing she says to me—no greeting, no concern about my wellbeing, just Amara. That name was beginning to drive me insane. This whole situation was beginning to suffocate me. I couldn't understand why my parents were forcing this marriage down my throat—especially when they knew I didn’t love her. “Mom, please,” I say tiredly, rubbing my temple. “I’m exhausted. All I want right now is a good night’s sleep. We can talk about Amara tomorrow.” She narrows her eyes at me, her voice hardening. “Gilan, don’t you dare provoke me. You will not bring shame to this palace just to protect your pride. You will marry Amara—whether you like it or not. This isn’t your decision to make. It’s ours.” There was a steel-like finality in her voice that sent a

The Queen's POV I walk into the palace, my heels tapping softly against the marble floor, but my heart feels as heavy as lead. This morning was supposed to be a joyful one—a heartfelt reunion over breakfast between my son and Amara. I had envisioned smiles, laughter, and perhaps even reconciliation. Instead, it has turned into the worst kind of nightmare—a disappointment so deep it aches in my chest. Seated in the drawing room, the king looks up at me, concern etched in every line on his face. “Still no news from him?” he asks, though I know he already suspects the answer. “No, my king,” I reply softly, lowering myself into the seat beside him. “No one knows where he has gone. It’s as if he vanished without a trace.” The king sighs deeply, his voice laced with frustration. “Gilan has changed so much. I hope he comes back for breakfast because if he doesn’t, I swear I’ll be furious with him.” “My king,” I begin gently, trying to temper his rising anger, “he is still our son. Let’s