Kings Requiem Novels & Stories

His voice echoed in the hall loudly. (Kabul ke Maharana, Sultan Rafiq Sulaiman. Jesa ki humne aapse kaha tha ki Mahabaleshgarh ke Kal ko bachane ke badle hum aapki kuch bhi Hasrat poori kar paaye to badi khushi hogi. Kripya kuch maang ke Hume bojh tale halka kare) I looked at the tall, strongly built King wearing plain black Kurta with a black loincloth. His turban was fixed on his head proudly all in black.

They began searching franticly before the new King discovered it, but Neil was quicker. “Your Majesty..” their voices trembled. “Cut their throats.” The servants desperately begged for forgiveness at the cold words that left his mouth. “Have mercy, Sire. We will find her, we will.” “I will look for her, wash your sins with your death.” After those words, Neil turned and left. The guards beside him lead the sobbing maids out of the harem. “Anthony.” “Yes, my King.” Anthony, the head of the guards, his friend and right-hand man, knelt down waiting for his order.

I couldn't help but snort lowly at the King's words. ...faith in the moon goddess and the decisions of the pairer to help us lead a good life- So far I didn't see anything good about being paired to that bastard. "After being infertile for a long time, it becomes more important for us to celebrate Calantha. I hereby order that the preparations for the ceremony should continue," The King ordered. "Before this session ends, does anyone have any subject on which they wish to put their words in front of the court?" The court speaker asked. My eyes instantly drifted to Embry who was sitting beside the Royal Couple.

The hall was draped in black and adorned with delicate flowers, a stark contrast to the usual grandeur it held during festive celebrations. As I entered the hall, I noticed the solemn faces and tear-stained cheeks of the courtiers and servants who had gathered to bid farewell to their beloved king. Their collective grief resonated with me, reminding me of the weight of responsibility that now lay on my shoulders. Finding a place towards the front of the room, I joined the somber crowd, standing tall and dignified despite the swirling emotions within me. From across the room, I could see Rueben, his eyes filled with a quiet strength as he stood beside the king's draped coffin.

She had spent days fantasizing about him, convinced he was a lone wolf, only to be tossed aside like dirt. King Faelar lowered himself into his throne like a man who had aged ten years in ten minutes. He let out a heavy, ragged sigh that sounded more like a groan. He didn't look at his remaining sons; he just stared at the heavy oak doors Remiel had vanished through. "Continue," the King muttered, his voice hollow. "The ceremony... continue." Music began to play again, a strained, awkward melody that did nothing to hide the tension. The banquet went on, but it was a corpse of a celebration.

Truett and Rebella exchanged glances, fully grasping the implications of James’ words. They motioned for James and his companions to proceed further into the hall. Once James and his comrades were seated, Truett and Rebella took their places on the elevated platform. Truett commanded, “Mr. Clayton, summon the Thirteen War Kings.” Clayton turned, his voice echoing with authority, “The Grand Steward summons the Thirteen War Kings!” Immediately, several Bohnwer Lights flashed outside the hall. The war kings of the empire, renowned for their formidable strength and high status, began to enter the hall one after another. These figures were James’ former acquaintances and family, now holding signi

“King Maximus Augustine Majere, Grandson of the great King Maximus the First, Master of the Seven Kingdoms of Luxandra, and Champion of the Sun Wars has taken his last breath. May his soul forever dance in the heavens in the universal void from which all life springs.” The lead physician bows his head as he closes the royal eyes. And then, one by one, each drake and drakaina in the room turn to face me and fall to their knees. “Long Live King Segundus Majere, the first of his name. May the sun and moon bless him and guide him on the path of righteousness. All Hail the King! “All Hail the King!” [End Flashback]

His heart rate was climbing, a frantic tachycardia that told me his wolf was screaming to run. "As the King commands," the Priest finally said, his voice a dry rasp. We led the way, leaving the music and the light of the ballroom for the spiraling stone stairs that led into the bowels of the palace. The air grew colder with every step, the scent of damp stone and old dust rising to meet us. We didn't bring a guard; Killian didn't want any witnesses to what was about to happen. The Royal Catacombs were a labyrinth of obsidian pillars and stone sarcophagi. In the center of the main hall stood the Tomb of the First Mother: a massive slab of white marble that glowed with a faint, natural lumines

"Your father, Greatest King Ramos has died a while ago, My Lord." "W-what? What did you just say?" Moriah flinched, grabbing the roll from his hand. "The Royal Committee is going to ring the Death Bell now. Pardon me, My Lord," he bowed again and left the place hurriedly. Then, the Death Bell would be rang for eight times for the heavenly decease of King Ramos Callan. Each time of the sacred rings represents the eight kingdoms of the world, for the sacrifice of his soul. Moriah covered his ears when he heard the rings of the Death Bell, because he just came across that he was in grave danger.

boy with a rusted breastplate strapped over a priest’s cassock. His eyes were wide, white as bone in the flicker of the torch Elric dropped at his feet. “You should’ve prayed deeper,” Kieran rasped. The boy’s blade quivered. “Mercy, ” Kieran drove his knife through the captain’s mouth, the steel scraping teeth before it split the hush wide open. By the time the moon dipped behind the orchard ridge, the marsh smelled like old graves. Wolves dragged the bodies into the brine pit, boots cracking through the half-frozen crust until roots curled up to claim the softest parts first. Cassius leaned on his spear, his grin black where the torchlight caught his teeth. “They’ll send more.” Selena wipe