Dear Edward Kindle Novels & Stories

"Damn it. Whose company is this?" Edward had already walked to the door. He turned his head gently and said, "It's yours." Martin was so angry that he was at a loss for words. However, he did not throw the documents on the floor. Instead, he threw them on the desk. Then, he pointed at Edward and said, "I have lived for so many years, but I have never seen anyone more shameless than you." "You flatter me." Martin's mouth twitched. He took out his phone and opened the browser. He typed in the search column, "How can I make a man with great perseverance, high intelligence, and cautious kneel down and call me daddy?"

“I’m truly fine. He’s not that kind of person. We can’t believe rumors.” “Look at them. He even… went shopping with that woman. How can you be fine?!” Edward pointed at the shop that sold Italian handmade candies and ice cream. “How can they be so flirty if they aren’t close?”

another client says. “Thanks. She is a dear and kind person,” Edward replies calmly, though his earlobes turn red. “We can see that. Don’t let this kind of woman go—one who doesn’t judge you and doesn’t chase after your money,” an elder client advises. “I reckon I’ll try my best,” Edward whispers, thinking of her. A warm smile crosses his face, his eyes shining.

**DRAKONHELM** The long silver service still gleamed on the sideboard when the footman brought in the correspondence for the day. It was just after breakfast, and King Edward sat at the head of the long table and Queen Margaret beside him. A light mist blurred the view of the courtyards beyond, softening the hard lines of stone and barracks. “From Eldoria, Your Majesties,” the man said quietly. Margaret’s head lifted. Edward set down his cup, the porcelain clicking faintly against the saucer. “Read them,” he commanded.

As a result, after greeting the butler, Clarice was taken straight to Edward's room. Unlike Nicholas's simple-style room, Edward's room looked extremely literary. Even though it was a bedroom, there was an entire wall filled with shelves stocked with literary works in various languages; it was truly beautiful. On one side of the room, there was a terrace, and even on the terrace, there were shelves, and next to the shelves were some small and exquisite potted plants. In the middle of the terrace, there was a recliner. She could imagine Edward brewing tea and lying down to read on a sunny autumn afternoon.

I offered a sheepish smile by way of apology for being self-absorbed. “Did you make a dodgy deal with a sea witch? Don’t you know, you’ve gotta kiss de girl.” “I’m worried I’ll give de girl a throat infection.” Unscrewing the cap, shetook a swig of wine straight from the bottle. “There was something seriously wrong with that guy.” “What guy?” “Prince Edward.” “What’s wrong with Prince Edward? He was kind to animals, lived in a palace. Good dimples.” “Yeah, but how can you respect a man who needs a singing lobster to tell him when to make a move?”

Edward's cheerful tone had a touch of coldness. Elly sensed the change in his tone. Her eyes teared up, her gaze misty, revealing an enchanting and alluring beauty that could make anyone's heart race. "Seventh Prince, has your servant done something wrong?" Edward touched the rosary and spoke slowly, "It's a family heirloom. Why offer it to me?"

Mom said in a low voice laced with threat. I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waitress and took a slow sip, watching Mom’s stiff expression over the rim of my glass. “I want to introduce you to Edward,” she added. My eyes widened. “Edward?” Mom stared me down with that frozen expression of hers. It took everything in me not to tell her to lay off the Botox. Her face was slowly losing the ability to feel. “Edward is Emanuel’s only son. He’s on holiday here in London, but heading back to the Netherlands next week to finish his master’s degree in business.”

Then quickly my heart deflated as we stepped into the first class of the day- and the Monday reality came crashing in. Edward ditched lunch, he had some "stuff" to take care of apparently. So I spent the hour hunched over a sketchbook with Gi. "Wait wait wait- you're telling me this is a candid portrait?" "Still life," I corrected, "but yeah." I smiled at the drawn planes of Edward reading The Mortal Instruments, City Of Bones by Cassandra Clare. He looked so confused, and I knew exactly what page he was on that confused him so much. He had probably read it four times before looking up to me and speaking.

And perhaps, Zean also marveled at the girls who seemed to be close to him. "I've always wondered to myself. Why the girls who like you seem smart, but stupid. You know what I mean, right? Who would believe that a conglomerate wedding would be held so simply and in such a short time. Even if it's business-related," Zean said at length. "Consider it a stroke of luck. Otherwise, all of my late father's assets would never have been returned," Edward said as he proudly showed Zean a stack of valuable files. "You're the best!" said Zean, giving Edward two thumbs up.