Romans & histoires Crowned Prince Book

Reaching the prince’s chamber, I was surprised when I saw the number of paintings which were hung over the wall of the hall, all of them seemed new, the paint showing that they were newly drawn, and whoever had drawn them was a talented person, some were of gardens, others were of wolves, but the one that caught my attention was one that looked like the riverbank we lived in back home. “Come in” was heard from inside the chamber, distracting me from the painting, the guards opened the door, revealing the prince wearing pants and a loose white shirt, he was sitting on a couch, reading through some parchment, looking lost in thought that for a second, I thought that he was unaware of me being

Lila tiptoed just to clip the veil on Emery's braided, black hair to secure it because the soon-to-be crowned queen was rather taller than the average height. She, then, whispered, “Your Highness, a lady must learn to be patient.” The soon-to-be queen rolled her eyes at her statement. When the horn was blown, Emery walked with careful steps on the aisle that led to the king's side. She minded every step she made because her burning red robes reached the floor and if she stepped on it, she will surely become the laughing stock of the palace. At the end of the aisle was the throne made of gold. Its sides were carved with wolves—the predators that best represent the current king.

He was holding a book--- more like a diary of some sort. “Is Her Majesty okay?” I went up from lying down, but that brought me immense pain in my whole body and I cannot help but groan and hiss. The wounds, the muscle ache and all--- I can feel them all and there is no stopping this pain from happening. The Crown Prince closed the book--- or diary--- that he was reading and walked closer to me. Before he could even sit down, I asked again, “what about His Majesty the King? How is he doing now?”

The prince nodded his head a couple of times in understanding before reaching for an old-looking book from the top of the bookshelf. "What is this?" I asked when he handed me the book without any explanation. "Take a look at what's inside; I think it's self-explanatory," Prince Leonard replied. I wasn't sure why it was the case, but I couldn't help feeling very uneasy as I took the book from his hand. I slowly flipped through the pages to find old photographs of people that I did not recognize. Most of them were family portraits of people who seemed wealthy. At first, nothing caught my attention apart from the fact that there were always children and girls present in the family portraits, wh

I swallowed to clear my throat as I prepared myself to unveil the ultimate secret of the prince’s plan. “The crown prince wants to become the next king and also the last king of this country,” I said slowly and clearly. I stared deeply into Brandon's intense blue gaze as silence and tension seemed to envelope us. “He is crazy,” Bradon said before breaking eye contact with me and running his fingers through his blonde hair. “You don't look so shocked…” I commented as I stared directly at Bradon. Although he seemed a little disturbed and restless, he definitely did not have the ultimate astonished reaction that I had when I first heard of this idea from Desmond.

“Two days ago, Alexander personally took her to a private jeweler. Measurements, design consultations—he stayed the entire time.” My heart clenched. “There’s more,” Ethan continued. “And it gets worse.” “I accessed her private cloud. Password was Alexander’s birthday.” Inside were photos. Hundreds of them. I opened the file he sent. The album was titled: My Knight. The most recent post was dated two days ago. He said this crown belongs only to me. Just like him. Next week’s family dinner—he promised to give me a name. The image showed an exquisite bridal crown— diamonds and sapphires set in a constellation pattern.

“Give me back my crown! It’s mine!” “No!” Max shouted over his shoulder, giggling. “You said you don’t wanna be a princess anymore, you wanna be… President? Princess can’t be president, Issa. So the crown’s mine now.” He whipped around the corner of the couch, nearly slipping, then kept running. Issa screamed. “MAMAAAA! MAX STEAL MY CROWN! HE CALL ME UGLY PRINCESS!” “I said BAD PRINCESS,” Max corrected, still running. “Different.”

Violet bit down on her lower lip so hard that it nearly broke the skin, but she still tried to hold her ground. "It's just a cheap ornament," she said stiffly. "I already looked it up. The online price is about five bucks. I'll give you ten. That's more than enough." I let out a quiet laugh. "Are you sure you searched for the right thing?" I said. "Try this. Look up the news. 'Neel Corporation's Chairman Wins Bidding War for Rare Antique, Gives It to Daughter.'" Someone in the crowd gasped. "It's real! It's the same piece I found online earlier. It's worth three million dollars!"

' thought the king while looking at Kiara's composure and deep brown eyes . When he was about to talk again the door opened . '' The crown prince has arrived ! '' said the butler and then the prince entered . All the people in the room except the king got up to welcome the crown prince . '' I totally agree with this young lady , after all , actions are more interesting than decorations which do nothing but stand by quietly . '' said the crown prince . '' Welcome Eskylrious , my grandson and pride . '' said the king with a smile . Kiara thought that this voice sounded familiar to her . When she turned her head she remained really startled . To her surprise, the giraffe she has been referring

Every noble house in the kingdom, hearing that Alaric's curse was broken, rushed to offer their daughters. At a council meeting, the High Elder brought it up again: the North needed a queen. An heir. Alaric just looked up. "I've already chosen my queen." "Her name is Wren." The news sent shockwaves through the kingdom. Whispers ran through every clan: the new king has lost his mind—he's making a wolf-less waste his queen. The council fought him tooth and nail. Alaric didn't waver. He gave Wren the grandest coronation the North had seen in a century.