All Chapters of The Alpha Prince's Personal Maid : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Darian's POV Darian's head is pounding as he settles in his seat the next morning. He's dressed just like the other time, only his tunic is light green this time, the black cloak sitting carefully on his shoulders. He rubs his temples tiredly, eyes scanning the room calmly. He hated events like these, but as future King, he still needed to fulfill his duties to his people no matter what. He has to take the visitors and potential alliances out, around the palace today. 'Showing off', an act trademark to Moonveil when they have important guests over. He thinks it's something David can handle. But it would be incredibly disrespectful to leave them alone with his right hand man, when they came all the way here to see him. Another thing troubling his mind, though he wouldn't want to admit how much it chipped at his thoughts, is her... Isabella. He's been restless since last night from the moment he read through that scroll, meaning to have a conversation with David about

Darian's POV Darian's jaw tightened as he moves down the corridor, legs heavy, boots hitting the ground with a little too much force. His wolf is restless. No, angry might be a better word for it. Because she walked away. Away from him. No one had ever done that before. Darian replays the look on her face again and again. She looked… cold. Like last night never happened. Like she hadn’t melted, allowing him to kiss her senseless. Like she couldn't feel the pull between them. It doesn't sit right with him. He stops abruptly, lips pressed in a thin line. Why is he the one losing control? He's Prince Darian, Alpha heir of Moonveil. She should.. she should be the one running after him. Craving his attention. He continues forward again, fingers clenching and unclenching. He needs so badly to put her in her place. The women behind him are hesitant now, no longer willing to follow any longer as they sense the anger that's brewing. His pheromones are leaking, alr

Darian's POV The palace has transformed by nightfall. Moonveil never does anything halfway, and tonight is proof of that. The grand hall is completely changed; several golden chandeliers bathing the room in warm light. Several long banners in deep red and silver, embroidered with the royal crest drape from the high ceilings. Music floated softly through the air, violin players playing slow and elegantly, while Darian stood by the stairs, unmoving and watching. Servants move around the hall quietly, while nobles whisper behind golden fans, the scent of perfumes and pheromones thickening the air...almost suffocating. Darian's jaw tightened. This was supposed to be important to him, to his kingdom, to his new reign; choosing a mate and strengthening alliances. To secure the future of Moonveil. But yet, his mind constantly drifted to her. Isabella. He somehow wonders what it is about her that has him so infuriated with her. And he hasn't been much better eve

Belle's POV. The corridors are quiet now, the music from the ballroom completely distant and muffled behind the thick stone walls. The celebration had ended hours ago, but some of the guests still stayed in the hall, drinking and eating, while some had retired to their respective rooms. Her footsteps echo softly as she moves through the dimly lit passage, heart still racing. From what she's heard. The plan is to kill the prince...and the way they'd talked about it, like his life it is worthless appalled her. Her grip on the edge of her maids dress tightens as she forces her legs to keep moving despite the slight, lingering ache of her injury. Her mind is still spiraling, because the Prince had asked her to stay away from him. And now, she just so happens to overhear a planned attempt on his life. How was she going to explain it without sounding crazy? Without proof? Would he just think she's jealous when she tells him that one of his potential mates is here

Belle's POV Belle frowns when she realizes she's been reassigned. She stares at the floor longer than necessary, fighting the urge to break down, her kissing her teeth at the unnecessary frustration. They didn't even value her enough to tell her directly. With Miss Stella gone on yet another assignment, she only hears about it through the petty rumors. 'They say she's messed up the Prince's work several times.' 'The prince must finally be tired of her incompetence.' 'She's so lazy.' 'She can't do anything right, keeps messing up.' 'She's only still working here because of Miss Stella...' These are a few of the things she's heard since the reassignment, and it stings to say the least. They should try waking up in a foreign land and still manage to stay alive for a month and see how well they'd do. She scoffs under her breath. Their mindless gossip however, doesn't get to her like the weight of the Prince's avoidance. He was the one that kept pulling her bac