Semua Bab Royal Trouble: A Naughty Prince Meets His Match : Bab 61 - Bab 70

The soft knock on Lilian’s door startled her. She had barely managed to wipe the lingering traces of last night’s tears when the door creaked open. Her mother, Mrs. Vivian Drake, stepped in, her eyes widening the instant she saw her daughter. “Lilian!” she cried, rushing forward. “You came back yesterday and didn’t bother to check on me—or your father! Do you know how worried we were?” Before Lilian could answer, the tall, commanding figure of President Drake appeared behind his wife. His expression carried a mix of stern authority and playful teasing. “I already know where she went,” he said with a half-smile. “Of course she didn’t come to us—she went to meet her love. Forgotten that her parents were waiting to welcome her home.” “Dad, please…” Lilian muttered, lowering her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom, sorry, Dad. I thought you had already gone to bed when I came in last night. I didn’t want to disturb you.” But Vivian’s sharp eyes caught it immediately—t

Lilian pushed open her bedroom door with a heavy sigh, her fingers still trembling slightly. The mirror on her dresser reflected a pale, tired girl with red-rimmed eyes. She had barely slept the night before. The weight of Adrian’s face—broken, weary, sitting at that bus station—haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She tossed her scarf on the bed and reached for her phone. The screen lit up instantly with dozens of missed calls and unread messages. Her chest tightened. Adrian… She sank onto the bed, staring at his name flashing over and over again. “So,” she muttered to herself, “he already knew I was back.” A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “And yet… he didn’t come until now.” Before she could dwell on the thought, a knock sounded from the sitting room downstairs. She heard her father’s deep voice greet someone, followed by her mother’s surprised gasp. Her heart skipped. Adrian. Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She rushed to the m

The sound of screeching tires still echoed faintly in the courtyard when the world seemed to stop. Ariel lay sprawled across the cold stone, her dress torn and darkened with a spreading pool of blood. Her eyes fluttered open, searching for breath, but no sound escaped her lips. Her hands trembled weakly against the ground as if trying to hold on, but strength was already slipping away. The car that had hit her screeched once, then roared away into the night. Its taillights vanished into the distance, leaving behind nothing but smoke and horror. “Your Highness!” someone screamed. Her staff, the same ones who had just been laughing with her inside, rushed forward in chaos. Some dropped to their knees, pressing their hands against her wounds, while others stumbled inside to raise the alarm. Tears ran freely down their faces as they called for help, their voices breaking into sobs. Within minutes, the entire palace was in uproar. Guards sprinted out, ordering

The hospital room was dim, the only light coming from the machines that beeped in steady rhythm. Ariel lay motionless on the bed, her skin pale against the white sheets, an oxygen mask covering her fragile face. The steady rise and fall of her chest was the only proof that life still clung to her. Carl sat at her bedside, his large hands cradling hers as if his touch alone could anchor her to this world. His eyes were swollen from sleeplessness, red from too many tears. Every few minutes, he would whisper, “Ariel, please… it’s me. Wake up, my love.” But the silence answered him back, cruel and unyielding. At the corner of the room, Queen Margaret sat, fingers tightly woven around her rosary beads. Her lips moved in prayer, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. King Edward, though equally broken, forced himself to stand tall. His arm rested around his wife, but his eyes never left his daughter. His crown had been set aside; here he was not a king, but a father waiting for

The night sky over Valoria was heavy, painted with clouds that hid the stars. The royal hospital stood like a fortress of grief, its walls echoing with the quiet hum of machines and the muffled sobs of those waiting within. Princess Ariel lay in the ICU, her fragile body tethered to life by wires, monitors, and the determined will of her doctors. Only hours ago, her heart had nearly failed for the second time, sending shockwaves of despair through the entire palace. She had been pulled back from the brink with advanced machines, but the fight was far from over. --- The Vigil In the private waiting lounge, silence reigned. No one dared to speak louder than a whisper, as if their voices might disturb the fragile thread of life holding Ariel in place. King Edward sat slumped, his once-proud frame bent under the weight of sorrow. His hands, hands that had once held the kingdom together, trembled as they clutched his cane. His crown lay forgotten on the side