Poppy Crown Trolls Novels & Stories

“You’ve walked into sacred rites, you have to remain until it’s concluded.” “I’m crowning him,” I say. “He’s going to be King of Secrets and Small Sandwiches.” Tara blinks, “Of course he is.” Ash hands me a crown made of tiny twigs and moss. “Lady Scarlett, if you would do the honors.” I place it gently on Mr. Tibbles’ head. “Do you accept this sacred duty?” I ask. Ash helps Mr. Tibbles to nod. “Then let the party begin!” I declare loudly.

I toast in the honor of my daughter, of her being an adult futanari, and how proud I am that she has passed the traditional ceremony with congrats. Everyone applause and clink their champagne glasses. I get close to Anna and ask her how she is feeling and she replies that she was feeling wonderful until a minute ago when she started feeling weird. "- That must be the crown, my dear. What do you mean mom, what does the crown have to do with how I feel?" I explained to her how things work when wearing that crown and she gets scared and wants to get it off, but of course, she can not, not yet at least.

31st November, 2019 Eyes on me, just me. He seemed to be telling her as he watched her official coronation happen. Aria kept flashing back to the moment Troy had taken the crown, her crown, and put it on her head while they were still on the battlefield.

Younger members began to speak up now that the old guard had been shaken so completely. Elena’s phone rang while she was trying to persuade Isabella that green beans deserved a chance. She glanced at the screen and saw Marco’s name. She put the call on speaker since Damien was there and Marco knew not to say anything sensitive without warning. “Good morning,” Marco said. “Can you come to the facility today? Tommy has something he wants to discuss, and he asked that you be there.” “What kind of discussion?” Elena asked, finally managing to get a spoonful of green beans into Isabella’s mouth.

“I want you honest.” She turned to Vow again. “And what happens if the Crown lies?” There was a beat of silence. Then—for the first and last time—Triarch Vow spoke. “If the Crown lies,” the voice rasped through the hood, genderless and sharp as glass, “then the city burns.” Later, in a room without screens, without files, without exits—he handed her a coat. Black. Fitted. Cut like armor. “You’re inside now,” Domenik said. “You dress like it.”

"This is insane. I'm sending this to my family group chat. The guy looks so decent and proper, who'd have thought he's into such wild stuff—wax, whips, the works. Damn!" "The elite crowd's filthy, I swear. I'm from Poppy's village. I always wondered how she suddenly got so rich—turns out she's someone's mistress! The woman onstage looks so smart and elegant. Is that man blind?" Each word hit Poppy like a slap. Her face drained of color, her lips trembling. "It's not like that! Please, listen to me—the video's fake! It's been edited!" But the more she panicked, the guiltier she looked.

“They say he’s quite particular,” one matron informed another. “Turned down three princesses from the continent last year alone.” “Well, after what happened with his brother, one can hardly blame him for being cautious,” her companion replied, lowering her voice. “Though thirty is rather old to remain unwed, especially for a crown prince.” “I’ve heard he has his eye on someone already,” a third joined in. “Lady Amelia Everhart has caught his attention—mark my words.”

That single moment made the Elders' frowns deepen. The Head Elder's gaze swept over Chloe, his contempt undisguised. Isaac took a deep breath and turned back to me. "Kira, I messed up. I know that. But even with Chloe as my Luna, you're still the power behind the throne. You're the Head Beta. Chloe... she's just a title. A pretty face. The three of us..." "Shut up." My voice was quiet, but it cut him off instantly. I looked from him to the pathetic "symbol" hiding behind him.

The people who looked upon him saw not a father, but a ruler, a king forged from iron will and relentless desire for control. I took my seat next to my father with her head held high even though I felt small beneath my father’s eyes. I could feel the gazes, the weight of politics, the eyes of all the clan leaders were on her, of being the daughter of the King Myras Frostfang, the woman who had brokered peace more times than war had allowed. I met the eyes of the Alpha of High land clan Alpha Erydan; he was the leader of one of the mountain wolves. My father’s second in command stood on the opposite side of my father. My gaze continued around the table meeting each of the clan leaders’ gaze