Prince Aesthetic Mga Nobela at Kwento

In my personal assessment, he emanated an unpleasant aura, resembling a contemptible individual. Curiously, though, he possessed an air of regality, akin to that of a prince. His golden locks intertwined with his piercing blue eyes, complemented by attire befitting nobility. If a crown adorned his head, I would readily assume his royal lineage. "They must be deaf, Black. Look at them; they are merely gawking at us," the "jerky prince" remarked with a smirk, addressing the leader with a handsomeness that concealed his true nature. Undoubtedly, he embodied the essence of a repugnant individual.

I bumped into a wall at that moment- a sturdy chest rather. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, without bothering to look at the face of the person I’d bumped into. “I wasn’t looking at where I was heading to.” I apologized. “And where are you heading to?” He asked, and in spite of myself, I jerked my head upwards, my eyes holding his. His voice was manly, yet warm. I couldn’t place it, but there was something about him which commanded respect. As I admired his facial features, I declared that it was illegal for someone to look so sinfully gorgeous. His high cheekbones complimented his face so well, and his hazel eyes pierced into mine. I felt a sudden urge to look away, yet I didn’t want to.

Still, he kept tormenting him. All of this had just been for his attention, just to be a friend, but the Prince— All the Royals, just had sticks up their ass. They cared for no one unless you were important and because he wasn't, he had been tossed away like he was not a person. So why should he care if they were falling off their high chairs? He was going to watch them fall and break their necks and laugh. At least, that had been the plan. "Skye!"

My mind wondered, recalling the past few moments in which I was near the Prince. He was tall, with broad shoulders and well defined muscles that could be seen beneath his clothes. There were solid black markings on his arms, spaced out and scattered around him. This made him seem mysterious in a way. He also had an air of authority to him that mixed with wisdom and something else that I couldn’t place. The way he was smiling at the little boy that turned out to be his nephew was causing a dizzying effect in my chest, awakening a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. It was all a little overwhelming and embarrassing to realize that I did indeed find the Prince attractive.

The prince was a fool. A charming one, maybe. One with good hair and better instincts than most gave him credit for, but still a fool. He had no idea how to disappear properly, no understanding of how to move without leaving crumbs behind. The only trick he’d figured out was that cash was king when you wanted to go undetected. And sure, he hadn’t used his credit cards since arriving in Lenweil… but he’d made the fatal mistake of keeping the same damn phone. And phones? Phones were goldmines.

If you're still mad, I can carve that mark off and stitch it onto his face. The crowd gasped at the cruelty of it all, yet there were some who could not help but sigh. "It's like flipping between heaven and hell. If only he'd used his smarts for something legit." "Check out this guy, barely in his twenties and already... Man, oh man." Mom–Fiona Emerson–went stone-cold as she reached out to brush the tangled hair from my face. Alex jumped in quickly, saying, "Ms. Emerson, don't bother looking. He's not even half as handsome as a regular dude. No cool scars, just plain ugly. You won't give him a second glance."

Was I hearing things, surely I was. “ Are you okay your highness, you look pale?” Another asked, them being nice had me even sicker. Could they just stop being nice! I was getting frustrated, my head pounding even more and it made me so dizzy. It was all a trick, I knew it was all a trick. I knew they did not like me, no one liked me and that was fine. Not even my mate liked me and I could not compete with a goddess, I would never win. Areli was on her own level, she was just a goddess by every definition of the word. Me, I was just princess Zisealer, the warrior, the black stain in my kingdom, the unwanted child. Yet I did not feel like a warrior, I did not feel like a princess, I felt like

And why was he alone? "Well met, Lord Jarrah," I said slowly, deciding on courtesy. "I greet you." "The little princess has manners and all. Would you look at that?" Jarrah's grin was truly nasty, full of squirming sadism. Then it hit me: 'princess.' He'd been watching us too. Damn him. "I am in search of your prince," I said, not cracking. I narrowed my eyes, hoping to disguise the fear there. "I know he's here."

I was so used to my life in New York that I often forgot my royal ancestry. “Prince Falcon! Interesting. I imagine the success you make with women. Rich, tasty…I mean…very tasty… your food” Hanna stuttered and turned red as a pepper. I had to stop myself from laughing. She was graceful even when she talked too much. “Thank you for Prince Falcon. It's a name that was created by my friends, because of the way I behave in the financial market. I have a company here in the United States that manages the finances of entrepreneurs. And about women... I've had many relationships, but none that fill the void in my heart." I said looking straight into her eyes and she swallowed her food, almost choki

I’d put it in a glass of water to sustain it. “You love flowers?” “Nature in general, Master.” Prince Dante stood behind me with a ghost of a smile on his face. The sun had risen, but it was mostly covered by the clouds which had gathered, however the little that did glimmer shone brightly on his perfect face: his jaw was structured to perfection, like it had been sculpted by God himself, his nose was smooth and straight, his cheekbones were high enough to curve into his jawline, giving him the complete Alpha-male look. Let’s not even get started on his red eyes that looked like the embodiment of sin.