Novel & Cerita Machiavelli The Prince Kindle

I didn’t acknowledge the maid, My mind was too deep in Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince. “In the actions of all men… when there is no court of appeal, one judges by the result,” I whispered aloud, letting the words hang heavy in the air. Machiavelli got it. Results were all that mattered. Not kindness. Just victory. There was this thrill in studying his words, a kind of illicit intimacy with power that resonated deep in my bones and blood. It was as if he had written this book for people like me. “‘It is better to be feared than loved,’” I quoted next, glancing at the young maid.

the prince instructed as he gestured with his index finger for me to approach him. His gray eyes stared at me before flickering slowly down the length of my body and then up again until our eyes met. Despite the dark situation that was going on regarding his father and the associated political instability of the country, there was an unmistakable look of desire in his gray eyes. The look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine along with my realization that the Prince sitting in front of me wasn't the stereotypical benevolent prince. He was the prince that always did things his way to get all that he wanted, and that very prince is about to become the next king of this country.

If I am being honest I am now well aware that I am the beast troubling people in my kingdom because what else would explain me waking up in the middle of the night with thirst and waking up the following day by my father ‘ s grave with blood stains on my teeth . Please believe me when I say that I am not doing any of this intentionally and I have even tried doing everything in my power to stop myself but I have failed with every attempt to stop . It is just that my thirst for blood overpowers me every single night and it infuriates me the most to know that I am the cause of my people ‘ s grief . The fact that everyone thinks that there is an intruder from outside who is after the people's li

Niccolo asked. "You can still be a prince, but you don't have a good heart. It's better to be a prince with a good heart than having a cruel heart. Do you want to be a prince with a cruel heart, huh?" She asked. He rolled his eyes. "Of course not. I don't want to be a prince with cruel heart. It'll make me ugly. A prince becomes more handsome if he has a good heart. Do you agree with me?" Niccolo said, smiling.

“Game on, prince. It is a fucking game on.” -----

"I wish to punish one of your slaves severely. I thought it appropriate to inform you, considering he was specially acquired. After all, you undertook the journey yourself to buy him." Vladya furrowed his brow. "Whom exactly are we referring to?" "The young prince." Grand Lord Vladya tilted his head in thought. "What has he done?" "I simply do not like him. He grates on my nerves." "I don't recall you spending much time with the boy for him to have such an effect on you. Or am I mistaken?" Lord Vladya questioned. "You are correct," she admitted. Her eyes darkening with anger. "However, he is a slave—a human slave. I don't need a reason to hate him enough to want to kill him."

The same type of vehicle that had been following us, had suddenly pulled up picking him up. It was not possible. It had to be a coincidence. A lot of people had black SUVs. And it made sense that he had a driver. He was a prince for pity’s sake. He was a prince. What was I thinking? How could this even remotely work? Eric POV

but to himself. Wait....did he say mafia? M-mafia!!! My eyes widened in fear and he seemed to notice this because his face contorted, as if he was in pain and he abruptly let go of my arm. He went back to stand near the window, with his back turned to me. I brought my shaking hands to my chest, not being able to move an inch. He's a mafia prince? If he's the prince then his father would be the king and his mother, probably the queen.

Princes were meant to let generals bully nobles quietly and pretend it was justice. I didn’t pretend. Aldrich turned his gaze to me, and the look he gave me was cold. “You should be careful,” he said, voice smooth. “The evidence I have also implicates you.” The words hit the hall like a rock dropped in water. Shock rippled. Ministers stared. Ivana’s eyes widened a fraction. Richard’s posture tightened beside me. I frowned. “Then share it,” I said flatly. Aldrich’s mouth curved slightly. “You want me to share evidence that incriminates a prince? In open court?”

The glorious name of The Man of pride. "All rise to His Imperial Grace, The Crowned Prince of The East, His Royal Highness, Prince Nolan Armstrong". The words of the announcer were carried out when the figure of the Prince of The East came to light and every breathing thing, man and woman, kings, emperors, and rulers, queens, duchesses, and counts, mighty men, and countesses, the rich, the poor, the laborers, bowed to his presence. He stood in power. Kathryn could not believe her eyes. He was there. Her prince was there in flesh and blood. Nolan's dark eyes were fixed on the throne as they beheld just one person. He only wanted to see just her and stand before just her.