Her Royal Highness Novels & Stories

I had attempted to convince my mum to stop this, looking forward, raising my chin up and stabilizing my shoulders like a true royal princess. “You, you can fix this. Why won’t you?”, I had said to her. Mrs. Sanders was an epitome of a perfect queen. She had been a peasant long enough even before she became a royal queen of England. She looked younger than her age and is a mouthwatering beauty.

“Didn't I say I don't want you following me?” “That's what I always do.” “I told you not to; it's not like you are doing anything to help.” “I am your bodyguard.” Neon muttered. “Then act like one.” Ashford released him. Luna giggled slightly as she watched them. Neon rubbed his ears before staring at Luna and giving her a thumbs up. “I saw how you handled the old queen, My Lady." “Call her Her Highness.” Ashford ordered. “Or Her Majesty.” Neon nodded his head and bowed again. “Your Majesty.”

he continued, "Get back 'ere. Do you have any idea what some would pay for her kind? Or even just for proof one of them survived?" The other two who remained looked at him sceptically, but the first took out his phone, which flashed brightly with the sound of a camera shutter a moment later. "Are you mad?!" one of the others said, "You want to try and catch a bloody Royal?!" and the first shrugged, "Well, she doesn't seem all that tough, does she? Probably weak, from being on the run and all."

My mum and grandmum get instant updates since they are too keen to know my whereabouts. It's nothing new. Since the instant they crowned me with the prince title, fifth-in-line to ascend the throne, I became hot property around our St. Frances Dauphin Castle. I had my own security detail since I was a day old. The day I got out of the hospital, the people were after me. The photographers were waiting outside patiently. Knees and bones on the ground, trying to take photos of me. I still have those photos of me lying around along with the Royal Insignia in my grandma's lair or maybe somewhere.

A freaking prince?! I gaped at her. "But how come no one knows about it? I didn't hear anyone else calling him with his title." She placed a glass of orange juice before me. "His Highness likes to keep his past private. He doesn't even like it when I call him by his title. But I do it out of habit." I frowned. "Why?" Who wouldn't want to flaunt it to the world? Being a royal wasn't a small deal.

A herald stood at the entrance, staff in hand. The doors opened. Light spilled out, warm and golden. The hall was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like captured constellations. Long tables gleamed with silverware and polished stone. Walls were draped in banners bearing the royal crest, embroidered so finely they looked alive. The wealth of the Werewolf King was on full display, unapologetic and overwhelming. The music softened. The herald’s voice rang out, clear and loud. “Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Sage of the Northern Line, accompanied by His Majesty King Leonardo and Prince Leam.”

My chest tightened as the call connected. A man answered warmly. “Your Highness.” “Good morning,” Henry replied smoothly. “Sorry to disturb you.” “Not at all.” The voice sounded official. Henry glanced at me briefly before continuing. “I wanted to ask about the French royal family.” My stomach twisted instantly. The French royal family? The man on the phone chuckled softly. “They’ve certainly had a difficult few months.” Henry nodded lightly. “Yes. That’s actually why I’m asking.” I stared at him carefully.

Thalia's eyes nearly popped out of his head as recognition dawned across his face – he'd seen enough signs and symbols in his years to know divine presence when he felt it. "L-Ladies? By all the fates, I have royalty in my establishment! No – more than royalty – Olympians in my inn!" He stumbled backward a step, then bowed low, so low that his beard nearly brushed the floor and he nearly knocked over a tray of wine cups a servant was carrying past.

If she didn't know, then it wouldn't be true. Except she was already at the book. “The Law of Princely Marriage: The royal heir, be it male or female must wed of noble blood. No other suitors may be entertained.” “No,” she gasped, but the words stayed the same. Frantic, she pulled her phone out of her clutch and googled the law. It was a real law. There were no repeals. All Orsino marriages were of noble heritage. The latest one listed was between King Carlo and Lady Magdalena Dunhill.

Royal glanced at me in astonishment. "But why don't I find any similarities between you and your parents?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows. "What do you mean?" she questioned. I stepped towards the entrance and facing the members in the hall, I announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, let me present you the heir of the Royal family. The one to whom the power of attorney truly belongs, Miss Ella Royal." I pulled the door wide open. Everyone got up from their chair in shock. Their eyes bulged, hearing my announcement.