Picture Perfect Royal Christmas Novels & Stories

We need help, and sometimes the assistance we hire ends up helping us look the part way more than we ever intended it to look. Like my cousin, Marianne, who wore the traditional New Beerenland's royal Victorian brooch and other royal garbs to a church wedding of a commoner she knew. And somehow, the media was there to cover it. She had my grandma's overcoat on her back that was handmade by the Indian women and been sent off as a gift on Christmas Eve by the country's royalty to earmark the tradition of transporting tea and coal that goes all the way back to the 1500s. It was a popular piece of history that captured the local newspaper's attention on the incoming Monday. Why did my cousin Mar

He would surely deny this directly and get back to his room. Before he could ask Alina, the lights went off and the single light highlighted the stage. Alex turned and was not sure what this was about. There was a big banner with happy birthday and the most handsome picture of Alex was hanging there. Even Alex was stunned with the picture. He has no clue of how and when it was taken. But he looked absolutely stunning in that dark royal blue outfit. His smile was very rare and he forgot the last time he smiled that way. Did Alina take this effort to make him happy?

One of the knights say to me. "Neither. I am not a demonic worshipper or a royal. I simply like the way that the red color makes me feel when I wear it. There is a certain level of confidence that comes with the color." I answer. "You do not seem to be lacking in confidence now." The Prince says to me. "Ah, but I am. If I wasn't then I would be speaking my mind instead of sitting here like this." I say with only a bit of sarcasm. "What would you be saying if you were speaking your mind?" He asks sounding shocked.

~~PEYTON~~ “Merry Christmas, Princess," Axel chirps out of nowhere, his eyes bright with a mischief that usually means trouble for my sanity. "Merry Christmas," Raphael adds. “I trust Axel didn't wake you too abruptly?" "He tried to eat my face, if that's what you mean," I say dryly. I look past him toward the tree, and my jaw nearly hits the floor. It’s not just a few gifts. It’s an avalanche—gold paper, silk ribbons, and boxes so big I could probably hide inside them.

The air was filled with the scent of pine from the towering Christmas tree in the foyer, its lights twinkling like stars against the snow-dusted windows. Penelope smoothed her crisp black maid's uniform, the fabric hugging her curves a bit too snugly after the holiday indulgences. she was the picture of quiet beauty, long auburn hair tied in a neat bun, porcelain skin flushed from the warmth of the roaring fireplace, and wide green eyes that darted nervously whenever someone addressed her directly.

· He didn’t look at me first. · He looked at him. · A slow, mocking smile formed. · “I saw the photo,” Marcus said. “The entire palace has. Very… daring angle.” · I clenched my teeth. “There’s nothing provocative about it.” · “Oh, of course,” Marcus said. “Two men. Alone. Standing far too close. Tension thick enough to cut.” He · shrugged. “A very normal political meeting.” · He stepped around us like a hunter circling prey.

It was the Day of the Ritual, a tradition for every ruler of my bloodline to prove they are the strongest soul in the land. ​I ran a slow, casual hand through my hair. It was long and as white as a fresh snowfall, a shining symbol of my pure, royal blood. I knew I looked magnificent. I wore a simple silver tunic that was thin enough to show the muscle beneath, catching the rays of the sun like a mirror. "Our king is so beautiful!" "Asher is the strongest!" "He is prettier than all my daughters combined." I heard some of their talks ​The noise was like a physical wall of sound. Thousands and thousands of my subjects sat on the stone benches that rose so high they seemed to touch the clouds.

A few seconds later, the trumpets played and Sir Saint opened the doors. “Presenting, the Royal Family of Wilhem.” King Ricardo was in front, wearing a plain white coat with gold linings and an elegant single-layered silver crown. Queen Josephine, who wrapped her arm on King Ricardo’s arm, was wearing a long, asymmetrical plum dress with her hair in a bun and of course, the same crown King Ricardo was wearing. Behind them, was Princess Althea and Prince Thomas. Althea was wearing a yellow pouf dress that reached her knees and she had her hair in a ponytail. Her tiara set perfectly on her head. Thomas was just as simple as his Father but he wore a long sleeve polo and a one-sided brown coat t

Another message came, this time it was a picture. As soon as I saw the picture, the fork slipped through my fingers and fell on the plate, startling Aunt Mira. My jaw dropped, my heart sank, my pulse quickened. On my screen was a picture of Damon and me having sex in his car. The picture captured my head thrown back in reckless abandon, my mouth pouted, and my eyes shut. It only captured Damon from the side, but clear enough to see his face buried between my breasts. A third message followed. “This would make a really viral picture"

Winter had deepened its gentle embrace over the capital, transforming the palace gardens and rooftops into a pristine wonderland of white. Fresh snow blanketed the trees and buildings, sparkling under the pale winter sun like scattered diamonds. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying the scent of pine logs burning in hearths and the faint sweetness of spiced mulled wine drifting from the festival stalls in the main square. The city moved at a slower, more peaceful pace — children building snow wolves in the streets, merchants selling warm pastries and glowing lanterns, and the people speaking with quiet pride about the royal family that had brought them through war into this season of