Novel & Cerita Prince Hat

His size ment he hit the ground hard and I scrambled on top stradling him and pining him beneath me. "This isn't wrestling." he grunted. "I could easily throw you off Kayda." he added. "But you haven't." I grinned shifting my hips slightly. "Because I don't want to hurt you." he said. " get off." he added through gritted teeth. "Nope Prince Eoin." I smirked emphasising his title Prince and popping the P disrespectfully. "Besides you already hurt me so kiss it better." I smirked leaning dangerously low to him and pushing out my split lip.

“You have a visitor, sir.” “I’m not expecting anyone at this moment. And Storm might be stuck in traffic.” “Sir, it’s a prince.” A what now? Then a well-built blond in a black suit walked in. “May I present, His Royal Highness, Prince Camren Thayer Aleksei Keoni Gattewarde Braynburd of Triberis Capria.” “That’s a mouthful, Lud,” That must be the Prince in a well-tailored blue suit and light purple tie dismissing the blond, his protective detail.

His voice slowly rose and there was no trace of calmness in it anymore, "I am Zayn Hendrixson, crowned prince of the kingdom of Baridoki, rightful heir to the throne" Zayn paused and gave them time to consume the information as they whispered amongst themselves. He took a few steps forward and stood face to face with the scarred face warrior who looked him straight in the eyes with no atom of fear within him. Zayn let out a soft smile and whispered, "You called me a fool, didn't you?" "Of course, I did" He responded blatantly. The prince nodded and tilt his face was him to the watching crowd, "Did you hear that?"

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.

Do they really hate me because I don’t have a trust fund? One of the Princes enters the room, his eyes glued to his phone. It’s the guy with the raven black hair. He’s followed by an entourage of girls, some of them trying to cling onto his arms. But he pays them no attention, just continues studying whatever’s on his phone.

He does not seem pleased because he reaches for me but I’m out of reach. From a bit of a distance I notice more about him. He’s very tall and built, like most males, he is clean shaven, those eyes capture me for a moment, then his perfect dusty blonde hair. But more importantly the crown that sits atop that dusty brown hair. This is the Prince. I can feel realisation hit as my breathing speeds up and I drop into a deep bow. “Your Majesty.” My voice barley audible. I’ve heard stories of The Prince, we all have. Stories of his ruthlessness, violence, cruelty. Stories of his love of females as nightly companions. Bad, horrible stories.

"You're not the only royal person in the real world, Mr. Bodyguard. Me too. My father even calls me Princess till now. By the way, where are you going with half-wet clothes like that?" Prince put his shopping on a chair. "It's impossible for us to continue the mission in wet clothes. So, I bought these." He stretched out two black Mont Saint Michel t-shirts. Emily was dumbfounded. "You bought a couple t-shirt?" Prince grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't have enough time to look for the brands you usually use. So, I bought what was available at the nearest store. You don't mind wearing this, right? Besides ...." Prince took out trousers, a bra, and underwear. Emily froze watching him.

“Miss Iris, Prince Otis is here” Agnes went ahead to open the door and I stumbled past her to stand before the Prince, my eyes moving to stare back at him. Dressed in his Royal attire once again, this time with a symbol of his family crest just over his heart. He looked simply stunning with his hair smoothen to the back, there was no mistake. He was indeed a Prince. “So handsome” I whispered out loud before realizing I had. I gasped in shock, covering my mouth with both my hands to stop myself from saying anything further embarrassing.

The Bloody Prince is going to regret ever laying eyes on me. I check my hair for any flyaways, making sure every strand is in place. Braids wrap around my head like a crown to remind the Prince who he’s dealing with. They meet at the back, twisting together into a low bun. Gold dangles from my ears, complete with a glimmering choker of diamonds around my neck. The only thing missing is a crown.

PRINCE Sari, age 12. For as long as he could remember, everyone called him “Prince” or “Young Prince” because he came from a Royal Family. They always stated that he was an important person in their kingdom. They also said that one day, he would become King of Kabinihan. Prince Sari had no idea what it all meant back then. Even now, he still couldn’t understand everything or what was his real purpose in this world.