Her Crown Novels & Stories

The crown is decorated with blue, pink and purple sapphires, diamonds and opals creating a gorgeous prism effect when it catches the light. “You are to be your own Queen, Lemuel. A Queen, unlike any this kingdom has had before. You are not ruled by the Queens of the past, but free to lay your own path, and so Haemon and I felt that a new Queen deserves a new crown,” she says proudly as she places the crown upon Lemuel’s head.

"Why?" He tilted his head, a motion smooth and wolfish, as though the beast within him had never truly left. His damp hair fell across his brow, shadowing one crimson eye, but even concealed, his beauty was a thing to unmake the world. "Because I am a curse," he said softly through lips that looked carved for both cruelty and tenderness. He seemed too much: too regal, too dangerous, too unearthly for this small, lamplit room. "And those who hunt curses care little for what else burns in their wake."

He hadn’t known I was the princess. The ceremony commenced with the Archbishop’s proclamation. I took the coronation oath, promising to serve with justice and mercy. The Archbishop anointed me with consecrated oil, a sacred tradition symbolizing divine approval. I was presented with the royal regalia: the orb, representing moral authority; the sceptre, symbolizing temporal power; and the crown, denoting sovereignty. As the crown was placed upon my head, the hall erupted in cheers. Damien’s gaze remained fixed on me, a mixture of awe and regret in his eyes.

The silver crown encrusted with diamonds and black gems. “No,” I murmur, tears leaking down the corners of my eyes and trickling to my hairline. “Please. I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. Please let me go. I have a child. That’s not my crown. It can never be mine.” “Maybe not now.” Deimos looks at the crown and sets it down on the table before picking the book up. “But after this, you will be my Queen, and everything will be yours.”

It was a government-issued ID, with key details partially blurred. On the left side was my photo. But on the right, the information hit like a bomb. [Name: Louise Anderson [Gender: Female] A wave of shocked gasps swept through the ballroom. My gaze moved across the stunned faces, one by one, before settling on the terrified imposter. I looked at her, a faint edge of mockery in my voice. "You got it wrong from the start. I don't have a sister recovering somewhere overseas. I AM Louise Anderson."

Whatever noble refinement he had spent years cultivating shattered like cheap glass. Sebastian let out a short, contemptuous laugh. His polished, hand-made leather shoe came down, pinning Lorenzo’s palm to the floor with agonizing precision. "The head of the family? Lorenzo, you seem to have forgotten who anointed you to that seat. In this city, what I bestow, I can reclaim whenever I please." Pinned and helpless, Lorenzo twisted his head, staring up at me with eyes saturated in pure venom. "Joanna, you make me sick. I can't believe how fast you crawled into the Don’s bed."

“But the crown is not just mine. It is the kingdom’s. I cannot let personal ties blind me.” Her sigil pulsed one final time, bright and steady. The shadows bowed and dissipated. ⸻ The Crown Awaits The pedestal rose slowly, carrying the crown into the air before her. Light cascaded over her, warm and electric. The palace itself hummed approval. The trials were passed. Aera approached the crown, hand steady. This was the moment the seal had waited for. As her fingers closed over the metal, a voice echoed—deep, resonant, unmistakable:

For a moment, I hesitated. Then, with shaking resolve, I placed the crown upon my head. The metal settled against my hair, cold and unyielding. I stood there crowned but utterly alone. Luna in title. Broken in truth.

As we move—brothers sealing exits, plans snapping into place—I know one thing with brutal clarity: She understands the world. What she doesn’t understand yet… …is how far four Crown Lords are willing to burn it down to keep her breathing.

'Until then, I trust no one. Elly--aka--Levara's gaze moved forward, the doors leading toward the Emperor's private wing were getting closer, her footsteps remained calm and elegant and her expression remained that of the beloved Crown Princess. But beneath that composed face, a single promise burned fiercely.