Burning Crown Novels & Stories

– Maureen Laurent The fireflies danced like fallen stars, their golden light weaving through the frozen air, casting a soft glow over the thorned arches and snow-dusted benches. Vuk’s magic hummed around us — warm, alive, impossible. And the crown… gods, the crown on my head felt like a dream made real: delicate flames shaped into roses and thorns, weightless but burning with gentle heat. I touched it again, fingers trembling, gasping as the lights shimmered under my touch.

The black melange was moving up her body which as her clothing disintegrated covered all of her up to her neck. All below the water was pitch black and pulsating. He dropped the torch and there was a hiss as the fire went out. “Crown prince you cannot. I have burned many people. Everyone gets burned as they come close to me. You should not. You cannot. I am poison to everyone. Crown prince, please.”

“What is it?” Edwin folded the letter slowly. “Wolfbane has declared war on Icefall.” A heavy silence filled the dining hall. Elder Elijah dropped his spoon onto his plate. “War?” Edwin nodded. The elder looked between us. “This is madness.” His eyes settled on Edwin. “You both want to go to war because of a woman?” Nobody spoke, then Edwin leaned back in his chair. “Yes.” Elder Elijah stared at him in disbelief. Edwin’s gaze shifted toward me. There was no hesitation in his voice.

Mission accepted. My jewellery is onyx and silver, dark and glossy against my skin. Finally, Mum places the black crown gently on my head. It’s made of delicate metal vines and onyx stones, shaped to look like it grew right out of the shadows. And it completes me. I don’t just look like a queen—I look like his queen. “You’re absolutely stunning,” Mum says, adjusting the crown like she’s placing it on actual royalty. “Caden’s going to pass out.” “Good,” I smirk. “Let the man suffer.”

The fire in the divine lamp extinguished. Then comes the main part of the ritual. The crowning time. Servants came forward with the crowns. They were heavily decorated with white stones and pearls. Maybe this was the reason why the crowns are called Moon Crowns. Elphaba placed the crown on Maximus's head after offering the crown to the moon goddess and the deity. Lenora's neck hurt just by watching Maximus wearing the crown. She wondered how it would be to her. Soon, it's her turn to wear the crown.

“Don’t worry… I am not forcing you to stay by my side. That is why, Emery, I will give you this one last chance to decide. Will you choose to be with me or do you want to return to the eastern continent with King Lawson? If you choose the latter, I will understand and will let you go without harm. However, if you choose me now… I promise to never let you go no matter what. I will cherish you for the rest of my life no matter how many of my people would go against us. You will become the empress of the Varmore Empire and do whatever you wish to do.” He then showed her the ring that was carefully forged with expensive raw materials by the greatest jeweler in the empire. With one glance, it loo

They mourned him and continue to do so. Someone had to take over now that the King was gone, and the young Crown Prince is doing an excellent job of carrying on his father's legacy. He's skilled at making snap decisions, and he's a natural leader. Not to mention that he's quite attractive. Anastasia isn't the only girl in the kingdom who fantasizes about him. When she sees him pass by, she can't help but steal a glimpse at him. If word gets out that she secretly admires the Prince, she'll most likely be beaten to death, but who can blame her? Despite the fact that he is rumored to be engaged, Anastasia smiles sheepishly whenever his name is mentioned. Even if he isn't enganged, a maid and a

Mr. Crown stepped out of the bathroom and the towel he was using to dry his hair, dropped from his hand when he saw his wife burning the invitation card. “What are you doing!” Mr. Crown yelled and rushed to her. He almost tripped to the floor, but he made sure to get to her and snatch the burning invitation card. “Ow!” He yelped when the fire burned his finger. He dropped the card on the floor and began trampling on it. “Fuck!” He cussed when his foot got burned as well.

The engagement ceremony Sebastian orchestrated for me was held at St. Mary’s Cathedral, the most august landmark in the city. White roses carpeted the streets for miles, every petal steeped in the sweet fragrance of absolute power. I wore a bespoke, hand-stitched lace gown, its voluminous train borne by six bridesmaids. Sebastian stood at the altar, his gaze fixed on me with unashamed fervor and devotion. Just as the priest was about to administer the vows, the heavy oak doors of the cathedral were flung open.

Right then, the banquet hall doors flew open with a bang. Lena strutted in, decked out in a stunning gown, flanked by her bodyguards. "Nolan!" she called out, her voice dripping with sweetness. "I heard someone was giving you trouble..." Her words trailed off as she caught sight of William next to me, the broken glass, and the gunmen in black sprawled on the floor. Lena's expression flipped in an instant.