Novel & Cerita Aesthetic Princess

-Past Time- Aurora POV The palace was abuzz with the Princess's daring fashion sense, a stark contrast to the modest attire of the kingdom's females. Her deep necklines, vibrant hues, and bold headpieces had already inspired some nobles to revamp their wardrobes. At her first lunch with the palace's female nobles, she wore a stunning, hugging dress with a train and deep V, captivating every female present - except Eni, the daughter of the King's top minister and potential king consort after Princess Deze marries King Zao.

Aynyra paused her healing, "Are you sure?" "The men won't touch me anymore if I'm not pretty." Aynyra's face darkened, but she complied, healing the wound just enough so that it would still scar, but heal mostly on its own. "We have a long day ahead of us, but I can assure you, with me as Queen, such behaviour will never be tolerated by anybody in this kingdom, ever." Aynyra's face was still twisted with a scowl, but she allowed them to continue dressing her in her finest day gown. She needed to make an impression as future Queen, and the blood-red dress would acknowledge both her power and grief for the war and lost lives. A red Queen. A Princess of Death.

Despite the grandeur that surrounded me, my thoughts were consumed by a single distraction—the beautiful young princess whom I had sworn to protect. Princess Annabelle, the epitome of elegance and grace, had an allure that was impossible to ignore. Her porcelain skin glowed like moonlight, contrasting with her flowing ebony tresses that cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall. Her emerald-green eyes held a captivating sparkle, and her every movement exuded an enchanting charm. To the world, she was a symbol of wealth and privilege, but to me, she was a responsibility—an oath that I had taken with unwavering determination.

she mumbled. "I actually do. My job is to get you prepared for the real world and toughen up your skin since it seems like you're far from there, Princess." Aurora was facing away from him and she could not help the smirk that made its way onto her face. Her number one rule of life was to always be underestimated. If her targets underestimate her then they would lower their guard and therefore make the job easier for her. She had been treated as Princess her entire life and grew up pampered and praised. But there was some point when she decided to change it up a bit. She still enjoyed being treated like one and acting like a baby sometimes but outside of the house, she was a completely diffe

Things would turn ugly, and the disaster would happen again like a cycle. "I am not lost," Aesthelia said, retorting. Aesthelia Rasc is an offspring of Telia, an empirial princess. Aesthelia was lost in her thoughts when the old woman said something again. "It wasn't the human princess," the old woman said, as she added, "The vampire's long-lost princess." "What do you mean? A vampire can't last long in the shield, "Aesthelia said in disbelief." She couldn't believe the old woman's voice.

He would most likely be tired and hungry when he got back. Grayson had informed me that the girl McQueen had been talking about was his “beard” and her name was Selene. I looked her up and found that she was a pretty light skinned girl who had a successful modelling career. They looked good together but i wasn't sure who had come up with this idea and if i really was on board for it. What if she was only pretending to be lesbian so that she could get with him? If I voiced these thoughts would he be pissed or not, it just was all a bit too pretentious for my liking but for now i was going to let it go.

I challenged him. "Well maybe the evil spirit is actually trying to stop a certain spirit from fooling around!" "Hey, spirit." I said. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much of a d*ck is PRINCE Ace?" '11' "Who's the ugliest and stupid looking princess in the whole kingdom?" 'R-O-S-E"

But Elara tasted the poison beneath every smile. She swept into the hall beside her parents, Kael just behind, her gown of deep green catching the candlelight. Nobles bowed their heads, though their eyes followed her like hawks. Already the whispers had begun: The princess and the Ironfang heir. A match written by politics… or by fate. Her stomach twisted.

In a grand medieval castle, Princess Poppy lounged on her plush, velvet throne, her petite frame draped in an extravagant gown of shimmering silk. At just eighteen years of age, the princess was already renowned for her insatiable appetites – not just for the finest delicacies and vintage wines, but for the pleasures of the flesh as well.

Neither does she expect me to. She wears Stormdawn blue today deep, rich, ostentatious. The color of tempests and entitlement. The color of a home that has always thought it is superior to the laws that govern common people. She purposefuly display her rank by braiding her hair with silver thread. Princess. Even when she is bleeding she is always a princess. Even when she is not succeeding. Even when her meticulously built world is collapsing beneath it. She casts a contemptuous glance around my house. observes the artwork, the furniture, and my chosen lifestyle and finds it all lacking. Finds me wanting.