Prince Fan Art Novels & Stories

He pecked her forehead and moved inside the mansion. "Da...da… " She started crying. Her cheeks were red. Rani Sa gave her a pacifier and distracted her attention from her father by showing her birds and butterflies that were just flying around. "Kavya, look at those butterflies." She walked to the rare black rose on which a colourful butterfly was sitting. Princess Kavya tried to grab the butterfly. In the meantime, Prince Jai Singh showered. His chestnut hair was neatly combed. Droplets were dripping from his hair. He wore his black yoga pants and white polo t-shirt. After getting ready, he went down to meet his daughter and have breakfast. He was famished.

“I would do anything for my two queens.” “You want a baby girl?” She asked and he nodded like a proud puppy waiting for his treat. “You've never had a girl child as the first child in your family. How sure are you that It's our little queen?” “Daddy signals.” He said with a smirk before lifting her in his arms and taking her to the bathroom. Claire and Adrian walked over to the King's Pavilion where he was seated having tea as he was painting a butterfly on the canvas before him. “Father.” Claire walked over to him and squatted next to him, looking up at his painting. “You still have your touch on the canvas, father. That's amazing.”

he stops and thinks "An evil smile to be precise" I scrunched my face in disappointment and he stared at me innocently. "I never asked you to describe Prince Arnold. You just perfectly described his physical features" I disagreed with his answer. "Ok, ok. Prince Cone is famously known for his smile. Apparently, he is a snake in sheep's clothing. His guard is a female among all the Princes. And of course, he has a battle scar by the side of his face" He replied sincerely and huffed "I just hope you aren't getting me in trouble"

I deadpanned, turning my back on the white cast faces of my best friend who had tucked my wife solidly behind him to face the ring, knowing they would notice how I separated myself from them. I watched the scowl on Prince’s face deepen before he suddenly broke into a smile, stepping into the light so that his purple suit glimmered with hues of red and blue. “Now now, there’s no need to fight! We can all just be friends!” He cheered airily, the high arch of his eyebrows making his face appear to be stretched in a feline smile. There was something wrong about it, the way he moved while the rest of the ring stayed in the half-shadows that seemed to move about the room.

Well, nothing better to expect from a prince. "Just to make sure", she validated with Pete, "This prince is the one who visited the earl before, right? The youngest one - prince Aston Icefall?" "Yes", Pete nodded. "He's just turned sixteen a few months ago. I heard it was planned as a big event, but he somehow ended up missing it."

Damn his killer smile and his dimples. "You know" I faced him, propping my left arm under my head "my prince charming is gonna have dimples just like you" I poked his cheek. He groaned "here we go again" I was pretty serious about the prince charming thing, I know that we dont live in a fairytale world but I believe there is a special person waiting for us. My special person must be super cute, tall, must have brown hair, blue eyes, dimples, and yes, pink lips. Yummy.

His eyebrows weren’t as thick as Minho’s, but that didn’t make him look any less handsome than Minho. At the age of 15, Prince Jimin was known as a heart throb that swept the nation with his prince charming persona. He had a bubbly personality that went well with his sweet and innocent appearance. Most of his fans were females that were obsessed. He was the perfect crown prince that had the good looks and the morality that went along with his perfect look.

“Today’s theme is 'Modern Royalty'. The first look is a dark velvet coat with satin slacks. The shoot will start in fifteen. We've already briefed the lighting and backdrop team.” I didn’t respond. She led me to the makeup room where two artists were waiting. I sat in the chair and let them go to work. Brushes grazed my cheeks. Someone dabbed concealer under my eyes. My brain tuned out everything. My body was there, but my mind wasn’t. It kept circling back to him. That stupid, quiet, tender human. The one I shoved away. The one who never shoved back. By the time makeup was done, I stood and changed into the outfit. A deep navy velvet coat, tailored and rich against the skin. I looked like a

I know this face. The sharp jawline, the piercing eyes, the unmistakable aura of someone who carries the world on his shoulders. My fingers twitch as memories collide, photos, gossip, news headlines. I’ve seen this face before. “Wait,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “Gilan.” He blinks, narrowing his eyes at me. It is him. The prince. The man who married Amara. Amara.

Steep white stilettos. My blonde hair was drawn back into a snatched ponytail, so tight it was virtually a club. Praise God for glue and high-tech wig science, really, or my little secret would have gone sky-high months ago. Concealed under my jacket, I had on a sharp white crop top — crisp, plain, cutting. And the tie? Oh, sweetie, it was accessorized within an inch of its life. Princess Bubblegum pin. A pink bow duo. White Hello Kitty. And a dash of sparkly nonsense.