Historia Queen Novels & Stories

Standing in my flip-flops wearing a big shirt with male boxers, my hair a messy ponytail and my body bruised and healing, I really felt loved and worthy when I look around seeing almost a hundred men kneeling at my feet. I'm not just anybody. I'm Arianna Romano, goddess of death. The huntress. The Queen.

Rune sighed in satisfaction and disappointment, "Adler, there are countless women worldwide with that hair and eye color. How would you find her if she's real when you don't even know the size of her titties." Priest, on sensing Rune was about to get punched, pushed him aside and stood in front of Adler instead, "I'll hate to see you like this for somebody that doesn't exist." He tightened his hold around the paper, "She exists." "So?" Rune laughed. "I'll make her my queen."— *** Now she was here. "wait... WHAT!" He didn't know how to feel, standing close to the door. What should he do? Go to her? Ask her why she would think he would go to that extent. Yell at her; why she'd think he'd ever

Queen mother Meghan looks at Alexander " Oh, how will she look at the harem when she is only the wife you married till now". Now, Alexander knew Queen mother motive for coming to meet him. HE DIDN'T react to anything he pours himself more tea and drank silently with a cold face.

A lot of folklore arises about the changes in the Queen, a lot of storytellers in tea houses created stories that were told to tourists and locals, yet Morrigan didn’t seem to care, she neither debunked nor call the stories fraud and taboo. Morrigan walked around the garden, her hair swaying as she glided around. Humming the tune she had been listening to for thirteen years. Rita bit the insides of her cheeks as she watches her. Morrigan had shown nothing but good temperament ever since he died, she changed drastically that no one would even suspect that she was the Queen that killed her ministers and her lover. "Rita, remember what I told you. With Fiachra's blessing, you will be a great Qu

Against all odds. But holding is not the same as winning. And eventually, they could not hold anymore. I turned the page. And found a portrait. Just a sketch, really. Pen and ink. Faded with age. A woman. She was not young in the portrait, but she was not old either. She was somewhere in between, in that particular place where a person stops looking like what they were and starts looking like what they are. Her hair was loose. Her expression was not afraid. Mira. Last Queen of the Witch Covens. Keeper of the High Flame. Killed in the forty-third year of the Crimson War by Aldric the Elder, great-great-grandfather of the current Alpha King.

Was all Leo said taking my hand and pulling me down the corridor a little more, but we didn’t walk far, his hand pointing to one portrait in particular. “This Queen here, she was called Evermore, she was human and was abused by her stepfather, she ended up ruling beside her mate for generations and is hailed one of the best Queens of our kind.” Leo first explained pointing towards a pair of mates who beamed happily at us, the woman absolutely, beautiful, I wouldn’t have known her past at all.

"But it's your history. You should know it , and why aren't there books about it?" "There are , but most of the events there are made up and not real. The real historical documentation of the King and Queen were lost many centuries ago." "The only one who would have a good recollection of them both would either be a northern being—which are extinct—or the priestess. I hear she has the power to visit the past and future." I sighed. She should have just done that and help these Lycans with their history lessons instead. "Then why is her sister Jyria recorded as Queen here?"

Clayton. “Does it say who the queen was they fought over?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “That is a good question. One asked by many historians, no one knows who this mystery queen was, or even where she ended up. Neither side won the queen, as if she disappeared.” He says, I swallow hard. He looks back at me, “What would you have done?” He asks me and I shake my head, “I would have asked the queen who she wanted. Though, to me it seemed what she wanted was to be left alone.”

she replies. The Queen watches her in the mirror, her expression thoughtful but proud. “You will be ready when the time comes,” she says calmly. Outside, the footsteps return. Closer this time. Heavier. Not hurried in joy, but driven by urgency. A murmur rises in the corridor. Low voices. Sharp whispers. Still, inside the chamber, no one pays attention. “Bring the jewels,” the Queen orders. A servant rushes forward with a small carved box, placing it carefully on the nearby table. The lid opens to reveal rows of glittering pieces, gold and gemstones catching the morning light.

She held my arm. “I mean it when I say you’re better than all the other previous Queens— including me. Want to know why?” I nodded slowly. “Well, other Queens had their Kings beside them— they had their husbands make them Queens.” She said. “But you, on the other hand, are the first woman in the History of the Reignile Monarchical Succession pattern to sit on that Black and Scarlet Throne and lead the people without having a King beside her. And that’s what makes you better than the others.”