Emperor's Eyes Mga Nobela at Kwento

River smiled mischievously and bit her lower lip. She needed to help Aniya so that she could inform Mr. Garner about the girl’s arrival. “Are you wearing lenses, ma’am,” River asked the girl. The girl ran a slow gaze from head to toe of River’s body and shook her head. “No. I never wear lenses.” “That’s awesome. Your eyes are so beautiful. Can you please share what your mom used to eat when she was carrying you? My mom also wanted a green-eyed child but alas!” River curved down her lips with sadness.

That figure seemed somehow familiar. "Dorian?" I blurted out without thinking. "Seraphina." Dorian did not seem surprised to see me. Perhaps he had already known that the Emperor and the Empress would be there that day. He was only a year older than Nathaniel, but his face was weathered beyond his years, making it impossible to tell his actual age. He had also become even thinner, with sunken cheeks and protruding eyes, wearing thin clothing in the cold winter. When he walked, his legs moved slowly, as if he had some difficulty.

88 COLD PALACE "Your Majesty! Second Miss is here!" Lulu shouted in glee, waking up Empress Park who's lazily lying on the hard bed. Empress Park opened her sunken eyes, looked around the room and once again she dreamed to leave in this hell cold place. In the past two months of being detained here in Cold Palace, Empress Park's previous spoiled and bratty demeanor were gone and replaced by an utterly ugly and dry appearance. Her once beautiful and tantalizing eyes has sunken, her once rosy cheeks turns extra pale, there's no nutritions at all, everyday she's forced to gnaw an overly hard buns and some beef jerky.

“See for yourself.” I placed the mirror in front of me and my heart caught in my throat. My blue eyes were no where to be seen. What stared back at me now were red eyes. They sparkled and gleamed like a ruby. I could not believe what I was seeing. Why had my eyes changed? Was it because of the ceremonial rites? I felt a sudden happiness envelope me completely. I turned to the empress and saw that she was grinning from ear to ear, her purple eyes sparkling with great interest.

Either way, one of them had to be my distant grandmother. Because of her, his blood runs through my veins. But that is the only connection between us. Because outside of that, I find no other resemblance. The first Emperor was a hard man with a hard face framed in deep red hair. His eyes were so red they were almost black like obsidian. And his face was chiseled in angles and opulence.

His Majesty noticed him with his powerful eyes, but getting through the dense grass to where he was was a problem. His Majesty was perplexed, unsure of what to do. Something compelled him to spin around, and he landed on the Emperor's face. He only cut his head once with his bully sword. But he waited. His Majesty turned, and the sword slashed the emperor's head once more. The sword's strength allows it to block the force that emanates from the eyes. After the eyes had been lowered His Majesty assumed the helm, and the Emperor of the Indocontinent touched the building's walls and apeared in the next chamber at breakneck speed.

Both were shocked with this incident, Anya looks up and collides with his blue-green eyes. Anya raise her finger and traces on Sebastian's eyes making him shiver with her touch "Your eyes are so beautiful, so pure without any malice." Anya stares into his eyes with admiration and fascination then says "Why you always filled them with negative emotions? Or else they are the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in my life." Hearing her words Sebastian holds her waist and pulls her closer to him then he touches his forehead with her and mumbles "Stop me before I lose control."

He’d built this empire from blood and silence, not noise. He leaned back in the chair. The air still carried the smell of sweat, cologne, and money. Faint music played downstairs now — soft, before the crowd arrived. But that wasn’t what stayed in his mind. It was the boy. Not a customer. Not a dancer. Not staff. Just… a cleaner. He had seen him from the bar, up on the second-floor glass balcony, wiping the windows with too much care. Too much stillness in his posture. His arms were thin. Shoulders tense. Movements too precise, like he was afraid of making a mistake.

"How are you sure it was her? What evidence do you have? Word of mouth? She…that girl cannot be here. She is at the Alcatraz!" Sir Orryk silently retrieved a rolled-up parchment from the belt at his waist and handed it to the Emperor. The parchment confirmed and removed any doubt that might have existed in both Chief Kaius's and the Emperor's minds. "Our best artists drew it from the description of the two witnesses." Emperor Vulcan studied the picture intensely. That was his daughter. Her round and child-like features that he was used to were gone, replaced by a subtle maturity brought about by the years that had passed since he last laid eyes on her.

Until he catches sight of one of her eyes poking through the glass of a picture frame that’s covered in dust and mould. He fights the urge to clean the glass, and turns the frame around to open the back. He carefully pulls the photo out. It’s a bit mouldy and there’s what looks like water damage too. What has this thing been through? He looks at the two figures in the picture. There’s an older woman, with long curly grey hair and a lot of soft wrinkles. She has a nice face, a long nose and big almond shaped bright blue eyes that looked like they might be glowing. A Witch then.