Novel & Cerita Cardan Cruel Prince Fanart

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”

Julius Darcey. The Third Prince was a smaller version of Elijah but had a goofy smile on his face. Noah Darcey. The Second Princess, wore a suit similar to Julius. She had a scar that covered her right eye, which had an eye patch. Theodora Darcey. The Fourth Prince was missing. The Sixth Prince was Gerard Darcey. The only one besides the Empress that looked surprised. It was like he saw a ghost. "What an entrance," said Callum. His hand clapping. "I expect no less from a Dragon Slayer like yourself."

Only the echo of a laugh, faint, cruel, carried on the wind. Caspian’s laugh. Kael froze, blood dripping from his sword. The mocking sound faded, leaving only the rustle of trees. He clenched his jaw so tightly it ached. “Enjoy your games, Blackthorn. But when I find you…” His voice dropped to a growl. “…there will be no laughter left in you.” The flames flickered across his face, painting him every bit the Scarlet Prince. And the hunt for Serenya had truly begun.

he sighed and said "okay" I'm on cloud nine we went inside that tattoo artist asked "for whom mam tatto" I showed prince he asked "what kind of tatto" I said "my name viranica" he said "nice name mam your name also beautiful like you" prince gritted his teeth and asked "are you tatto artist or flirting artist" that tatto artist face became pale I'm controlling my laugh he said "your boyfriend is quite possessive mam" I smiled prince asked "who said I'm her boyfriend" that tatto artist sighed and said "not only possessive he have quite sense of humor too"

The worst of the worst, the bloodthirsty prince, the ruler of the ninth circle. Asmodeus. The prince of lust and the one who enjoyed the pain and agony of others. "I called" I said as I caressed her face "had something to complain about?" The blonde stared at me for a few seconds and then his expression returned to be something like the face of an angry child. "Do you think you can buy me with cute nicknames and affection? I... I... I..." he stopped and then pointed his index finger at me "I’m mature! I don’t need it and you can’t ruin my reputation like that!"

"Please take me with you. My life is in danger, I know a shortcut out of the city" The princess looks at the young boy. He has Blonde hair and green eyes and then they began to run through the hall, the man in hooded top robe appears in the door corridors behind then, brings out a card from the deck of cards in his hands, the card name joker suddenly turned into a large skeletal that wore a clown uniform, the clown gave him a red spear.

Casimir said seriously. “ Me? Threatened that you are alive. Impossible you are just a piece of trash and worthless thing." The crowned prince maliciously said. “ Okay so just let us pass in let us go in the portal," I said to the crown prince. While I am behind Cassimir's back. "Well, you're pretty enough to be my plaything, so I won't allow you to leave this place," the crown prince declared. With a wave of his hand, he unleashed his vine-like powers, which were black and covered in thorns, directing them towards us.

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep breathing. I’ve got you.” But he shook his head, his eyes filled with a kind of hopelessness I hadn’t seen before. “It’s over, John. This is it.” “No.” I snapped, trying to push away the fear that was creeping up inside me. “You’re the king. We’ll get you out of this. Just hold on.” He reached out, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. “You don’t understand. This… this betrayal, it could only have come from someone close to me. Someone I trusted.” His voice was weak, but the anger in his eyes was unmistakable. “Someone near the throne.”

“It told me of your fears, your hopes. You leave a piece of yourself in the portal each time you enter. And the portal remembers, Cernunnos.” She smirked at him as she settled herself on the floor near him. “But you know all about that, don’t you Prince of Summer? One of the oldest and purest bloodline of Sidhe. The Idle Prince, so world-weary that not even your duties amuse you anymore.” Beckett sucked in a breath, eyes narrowed. “Also the only Prince who Sparked for someone that was already spoken for. I wonder, do you get a second shot at love? Will there ever be another Spark for you?”