Broken Prince Novels & Stories

Argon says to Zedrick after the prince left, both feeling sorry for the princess. The prince changed into clothes he got from his chief knight and attached a beard to his face. With a cap on his head and an amber bottle in his hand, he looked like a king’s guard off for an errand. He headed to Princess Thalyn’s assigned room and knocked on the door for a while. Hearing no response, he let himself in and scanned the room. With no sign of her, he left the bottle on a stand and turned around to leave before noticing a wooden chest with the Yvedran royal's sigil on it—the plumb.

Its name is 'What if A prodigy got reincarnated as a prince'. Please add this to your library and vote if you like it.//

Illarion Black was now sitting opposite Queen Minerva. They looked at each other vengefully. The Queen's blue Netra flashed wide as if she wanted to kill the young man in front of her. The Black Prince replied with a gaze no less sharp and cold than his black bead as dark as night. It is no longer an open secret that the Black Prince hates the Queen. This is based on the dark story of the Prince's past, which is directly related to the Queen.

Royal Guardian H E M I L I A "I don't think this is going to work between us." The Prince said to his lover, who began to cry. It's Princess Flora, her beautiful body covering her forms with prestigious clothing as a person from the aristocracy like a golden gown, her face spotless and round suited her perfectly, her blonde hair sparkling under the hot sun framing her face and lastly those blue eyes filling up with tears, heartbroken and desperate for his attention.

“In case everything I said didn’t make sense to you earlier, Thalia Blackwood,” the Prince knocked me out of my thoughts. I stood back there, shackled and filthy, trying to ignore the way my wrists burned where the chains rubbed against raw skin. I didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. Not with *him* staring at me like that. Callum Silvermark, Crown Prince of Kyrador. His sapphire-blue eyes were fixed on me, cold and calculating.

I wake up from the loud knocking on my door. I forced myself to stand up. I could barely open my eyes. I put on my slippers and walked towards the door. The mayordoma or the head of the maids in our house greeted me. “Good morning, Princess. A special visitor paid a visit and your father said that you need to dress decently right now and join them for breakfast,” she said in a British accent. “Do I really need to be there?”

Ambrose was a black snake in a green grass, always looking like he was chasing after the best interest of the king, yet behind the malicious smile on his face stood a cunny and a greedy man. The problem his father has is that he trusts so easily. Which was why Ambrose betrayed him and then there’s that stupid, pathetic human, tricked him. He clearly has no fear for his life or he had enough backing from Ambrose to reveal his identity to the world, afterall, he wasn’t going to continue hiding forever.

and looking for the prince but we couldn't find him "general we can't find the prince" one of my men reported to me "keep on searching" I shouted with impatience. We had to find him or else I'll be dead before I have a chance to report my failure, after a while the warriors came rushing towards us and the prince was running to the battle with one of the sirens from the river. When they got to us the battle got heated up, arrows were raining from the sky and my men were dying but we still had the upper hand and that was when the so called tribreed prince shifted into a dragon and started to rain fire on us. In a matter of minutes half of my men had been killed, the tables had turned and we w

More people will get hurt if he tries to chase us down… panic is already starting to form… Why won’t he stop? A sudden looming shadow appeared in front of me as I braced myself for the first strike of the sword. I quickly looked up and gasped, stunned to find the Crown Prince standing in between me and the crazed Knight. He held a sword firmly in his grasp and it was raised to deflect the Knights strike, forcing him back. The drooling Knight tried again again, each swing becoming sluggish and slow. The Prince took this opportunity to end his madness, burying the tip of his blade into the Knight who continued to make strange sounds. His body slumped to the ground and his eyes finally closed.

I press my hand against my forehead, beginning to pace, even with my knee protesting as it does. When I look back at the Prince, he’s watching me with a calm expression, although his eyes suggest otherwise. They are ablaze with unreadable emotion, his full lips settled in a line. "My name is Hale,” he murmurs. He doesn’t offer his hand, and he doesn’t need to, because there is no way I would dare touch a pureblood. Even if his skin does look perfectly unflawed and temptingly…I shake my head. What am I thinking?