Crown Me Gorgeous Novels & Stories

he says, "for the very unwelcome wisdom." Marcus shrugs, already losing interest now that the adults have stopped doing the loud-quiet thing, and reaches for the bowl Nessa has just set in front of him. I reach across the table. Find Kael's hand. "I need the full ritual," I say. "The true coronation. Not the political crown. The power of the First Queen." I hold his eyes. "Whatever it costs."

His hand is fully covered in the surcoat but the muscular build striking the cloth at times makes the strongest of men fear and purest of women to lust. The king steps on the raised stone ring around the Kauri tree. The low branches of a tree behind his head are blocking all the sunrays. His golden crown looks dull and his light brown face darker. The tall king standing on the raised platform of the stone is now twice the height of people standing on the ground. His green eyes trail from start to distant end. The chattering among distant people starts and transcends slowly towards the front. "You all are right," comes the king's loud and deep voice till the end of the crowd, and their chatte

“Kaia Greaves.” She stepped forward smoothly. Confident. Grounded. Everything about her screamed strength, just like she had out on that battlefield in the middle of nowhere. Except this wasn’t a battlefield. Storm magic answered as she reached the center of the platform. It sparked, pulled into order as she grounded herself beneath it. Recognition. My chest clenched softly as I saw her assume her spot, saw her father watch her with the same even pride I felt. A few more names were called. And then—

She exhaled deeply and lifted her head, relieved. "Anna, you saw his face right? Tell us how he looks like." "Yes, come on. Tell us." "Is he handsome as they say?" Anastasia smiled, which quickly became into a grin. She felt as if she had won the jackpot. She felt like a celebrity as her fellow maids asked her these questions.. "Calm down, my fellow mates. I'll answer your questions one by one." "Me first, is he handsome?" "He's... Anna paused and smiled dreamingly. "...so beautiful."

The black velvet inside framed something bright pink. A plastic crown. Gabby’s pink glitter crown. For a moment, no one spoke. “MY CROWN!” Gabby screamed so loudly the tiny hammer in my head went back to working overtime. She reached for it with both hands. “Easy,” I said. Kendra picked up the crown first and inspected it. “Oh.” “What?” I asked. She turned it toward the light. The crown was clean. No chocolate smudges from Al’s hands. No dust from the grounds at Villa Miravento. The underside, which had been slightly sticky yesterday because Gabby once tried to repair it with lip gloss, wasn’t sticky anymore either.

I let the order ring from my ribs the way a bell is meant to be hit, hard, honest, trained into the bones of men who grew up saluting sound. The officer’s sword paused because bodies obey that tone before minds remember why. His eyes cut to me. Calm. Calculating. “Name,” he said. Not a challenge. An audit. I tore the bandana off. Salt, wet brown hair fell mean and short around my jaw. My voice carried to the rail and over it, to where men in other boats had only their ears to spend. “Princess Riley of Avarayne,” I said. “Daughter to Rowan. Stand. Down.”

Althea fought her way back to Argos for Lysandros and helped him reclaim the throne, only to find herself trapped in the enemy kingdom of Thrace, wearing a slave's collar for three full years. Through three years of mortal danger, being dragged behind chariots, and bone-chilling winters, Althea survived on a single conviction: her betrothed, Lysandros, would come to rescue her. But when she finally set foot in the royal city again, what awaited her was not an embrace. It was a heavy golden laurel crown pressed against her brow, the Sacred Flame seal clutched in another woman's hand, and a royal heir growing in that woman's womb. She clung to one last hope: perhaps they had cast her aside onl

My twin sister Celeste and I shared the same face, but little else. She believed in forgiveness. I believed anyone who hurt her should pay. Three years ago, Celeste was set to marry Adrien, Crown Prince of Valeria. But an old succession law forbade identical twins from both retaining legal identities once one entered the royal bloodline. So I chose my sister. My parents staged my death, erased Cassandra Montclair from public records, and promised to protect Celeste after I disappeared. I left her my fortune and the Crescent Guard, then vanished to the northern border. I believed my death had bought her safety. Then our dormant twin bond suddenly returned—and pain told me Celeste was being to

His finger trembled as he pointed at my face. "Victor Wright! Have you thrown basic business sense out the window for a single woman? Fine. If you insist on being this stubborn, someone else will inherit Wright Group! In the end, I traded my position as heir to secure Ashley the sufficient resources she needed. She'd thrown her arms around me that day and sobbed. "I'll prove myself, Victor. I'll show every last Wright that you made the right choice!" And now here was Eddie, telling me that being by my side was too exhausting for her.

He said it so matter-of-factly I didn't know how to respond. Just then, my communication crystal began to flash manically. Message after message flooded in. [Isabella! Did you see the ShadowNet?] [God, these people are awful!] [Are you okay?] I frowned and opened the ShadowNet. The top headline screamed: [Thorne Heiress Still Pining for Vance Bastard] Below it was a blurry photo of me and Liam at the manor gate from a week ago. The caption was vicious: [A certain arrogant pureblood Miss pretends to move on with a new noble, but secretly can't stay away from her old flame.]