Princess Cut Out Novels & Stories

They left in disappointment. Princess Katherine browsed through the dresses patiently, while examining their intricate details and choice of fabric. Suddenly, her eyes caught on a piece of silver-white long gown, decorated with tiny ornaments which looked like diamonds from afar. Her eyes brightened and she went forward to take the dress. Suddenly, a hand reached out beside her and took the dress before she could reach it. Princess Katherine was upset and turned to see who dared to compete with her. When she saw who it was, anger rose in her heart.

I rested my head lightly against his shoulder as he carried me toward the penthouse, cradling me as though I weighed nothing. Once inside my room, he gently laid me down on the bed, his movements careful. "We need to treat these fast," he said, his tone almost apologetic, as if asking for my permission. I nodded faintly. But my breath caught in my throat as I heard the sharp rip of fabric. "William!" I gasped, horrified as I watched the hem of my dress tear under his hands. Three thousand dollars, ruined. But he didn’t so much as flinch—his focus remained entirely on the wound on my leg.

My heart plummeted. My chambers were unrecognizable. Everything I owned lay scattered across the marble. My books, my gowns, my carved wooden chests, my pressed flower collection, my training blades, my ink jars, my journals. All dumped in a heap as if someone had taken a giant shovel and decided, yes, this is the appropriate method of organizing a princess’s belongings. Guards stomped across the wreckage, crushing delicate things beneath their boots. I watched one step on a jar of rare ink with such enthusiasm that he might have been auditioning for a play titled How To Ruin Aveline’s Life In Ten Easy Steps.

His eyes were dull, but hope still flickered there. "I wanted to see her first thing." He ran his hand over the wooden box, his voice soft. "These are all for Elara. I picked every one myself. I want to make up for everything I owe her." Cassian went quiet and pulled out his own gift. A smooth, heart-shaped stone, polished until it gleamed, with Elara's name carved into it. Orion, who'd come with him, reached into his pocket too. A yarn charm, like the ones Elara used to love, only way better made.

"I can't find the suit." "I already hang it in the closet." "Okay", Aurora said and went to the closet to get her suit. She came out minutes later with the suit in her hand. "What of makeup?", Charlotte asked. "Just a little bit." "Okay", Charlotte said and walked towards the dressing table. "Just sit while I do your makeup." "Okay", Aurora said and sat down. ¶*¶*¶ "How do I look?", Aurora asked when she was through with her dressing. "You look beautiful that Prince Zuerien will have no choice but to take you as his future Queen."

She can still tolerate it. After the day she was made flowery all along with the prince, now at night she is actually made to be heartbroken. Maybe she was not destined to meet her soul mate. Looking up, the princess saw such a beautiful moon. Tired of looking up, the princess decided to return to her room. But she accidentally saw someone who was practicing the sword alone. His hand movements are very agile as if fused with the sword itself. After looking at it for a while, the princess realized that the person was not wearing a top at all which of course showed off his body shape and also his perfect muscles.

The fabric made a shushing, crackling sound as it moved, almost as pretty as the color itself. “Don’t lift your dress,” her momma said, and put a hand on her daughter’s arm to stop her. Purple Princess looked up at her mother, the edge of her skirt still halfway above her knees. And she smiled. She was wearing lipstick too—a cranberry stain mostly faded, smeared around the edges of her mouth. She was wearing her mother’s lipstick, just like me.

The tenth year since I accidentally landed in modern-day America, and the system finally noticed me—a glitch in its timeline. It told me that in three days, I'd be sent back to where I truly belonged. Back to London. Back to my era. And I—I used to be one of the most powerful men in the entire British Empire. Alexander William Windsor. First in line to the British throne. The system gave me seventy-two hours. A countdown to say goodbye to this century. Day one, my fiancée Evelyn told me our wedding had to be called off. Because Ryan—the boy she'd grown up with—had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Day two, Evelyn brought Ryan home. To our home. She said he had nowhere else to go. Asked

"Helena, please cut Princess Nathania's hair just like Prince Nathan's haircut. Jia, please bring some Prince Nathan's clothes to this room!" "Yes, Your Majesty!" They said in unison, then rushed to carry out the orders. "Come on, Princess!" Said Helena persuading Princess Nathania who looked confused. Princess Nathania, who was still confused, could only follow Helena's instructions to sit quietly on the chair, while Helena prepared tools to cut Princess Nathania's long hair. "Why is Thania's hair cut? isn't it pretty?" Asked Princess Nathania innocently, she was shaking her legs. "Your hair is very beautiful, Princess!"

"Does your elite intellect lack the capacity to manufacture a punishment that possesses an actual shred of novelty?" The Princess and the Discard Her skin was exceptionally delicate and highly cultivated. After nothing more than a few minutes of exposure to the open tarmac, her porcelain face had already flushed a brilliant, crimson red under the toxic rays, looking exactly like a ripe, succulent peach waiting to be crushed.