Novel & Cerita Bahasa Inggrisnya Pangeran

It probably made me look even more guilty. “Usually, it’s ‘Your Majesty,’ or ‘Your Highness,’” he went on, tilting his head a bit. “Or ‘sir.’ Sometimes ‘my lord,’ if the person is very formal.” He paused. “‘Prince charming’ is… new.” “It was a joke,” I finally said, my voice coming out tight. “Lira was teasing me.” “I heard that part,” he said. His smile grew just a tiny bit. “Should I be worried about the other nicknames you and your maid make up when I’m not here?”

His clothes were simple, but his eyes kept darting toward the prince seated below. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice unsteady but sharp. The man blinked, confused at first. “Madam?” “This…” she gestured around, to the music, the dancing, the glittering trays of gold and wine “this party! What’s happening?” He hesitated, his accent thick, his English broken but clear enough. “The Crown Prince… celebration. Business guests come. He makes… how you say… grand welcome.” Her lips parted slightly. “Business guests?”

I inquired while nursing his lesion. "I -just felt like it." He murmured. "You are Jake William, the Prince, how could I forget you're the guy who does whatever he wants." "Don't." He whispered with a serious tone. "Don't what?" I raised my brows. "Don't call me a prince." His heavy-lidded eyes searched mine. "At least, not you, Brenda." "Jake, you are a royal prince. In fact, I should be bowing in your presence. You have a title that some of us can't afford." I pointed out sarcastically then got up from the armrest.

Chelsea said as I nodded. "Isn't that amazing?" We almost froze at the sound of the prince voice as he stared angrily at us. "My prince you are welcomed" Chelsea said as I smiled but his dark aura made us stood still. "You don't have to be surprised that she rejected your money, after all not all women are gold-diggers" the prince said as I stared at him wondering where exactly he was driving at. "My prince I was just…"

I was still branded even though I had been sold. “I have nothing to say to you,” I hissed at him as I adjusted my scarf that had come off during our scruffle. “Dlpad,” he muttered to himself with a small smile. I froze as I recognized the language he had been muttering. This wasn’t just any prince. This was Prince Scott of Brigisha. Unless Queen Tolia suddenly popped out another son in his late twenties who hated me and Graham with a passion, then this was undoubtedly Scott. “Don’t pretend to be modest now. Why don’t you finish what you came here to do,”

He mumbles. I shook my head and laughed, "Well it definitely worked...but I am no typical girl Mr Nightwalker." "What ever you say sweetheart. What ever you say." I laugh starting to feel more relaxed. Xander climbs out of the car, walks around he car to my aide, and opens my door. He offers his hand. I take it and he helps me climb out. He then bows down, "Your dinner awaits princess Elizabeth." He says in British accent. I smile, "Why thank you Prince Xander." I say in a posh English accent