Princess Goblin Novels & Stories

the former Queen spits at me. “True Queen?” I question without thinking. This seems to anger the former Queen greatly. “You don’t think that he would actually put a…” she sniffs the air around her and covers the gasp that leaves her mouth. “A HUMAN,” she screeches. Her claws elongate from the tips of her fingers, and she slowly stalks towards me. I try to back away from her but my back hits the edge of the bed. Realizing I have no where to run, I brace myself for what is to come and close my eyes. I feel the sharp edge of her claw pierce the skin of my forehead. My skin rips as she drags her nail down my face and blood begins to bubble to the surface. “You cannot be allowed to live no

Princess Anse took a deep breath and concentrated, trying to will herself to shift standing alone outside, out of sight. “What are you doing?” she heard the familiar voice of her best friend. “Phoebe?!” she exclaimed, throwing herself into her best friend’s arms. Princess Anse noticed the beautiful Egyptian-looking woman, “Who is your friend?” “Meet my grandmother, Queen Zuberi,” Princess Phoebe introduced them. “What are you talking about?” Princess Anse asked. Princess Phoebe explained what happened and why she had to leave but left out the part about being a natural-born hybrid.

she asked, toe tapping against the weathered porch boards. Damn. She got me. I had done my best to learn what I could about Tobi’s world, and yeah, I knew he was a prince. But I hadn’t really thought it through. Not all the way. “I mean… we haven’t exactly talked about that yet,” I muttered, trying to keep my composure. “A crescent moon,” Moira said, exasperated. “I guess we should start calling you Princess,” Oscar teased with a grin. Henry turned in his arms, confused. “Wait, what secret is she keeping?”

But Elara tasted the poison beneath every smile. She swept into the hall beside her parents, Kael just behind, her gown of deep green catching the candlelight. Nobles bowed their heads, though their eyes followed her like hawks. Already the whispers had begun: The princess and the Ironfang heir. A match written by politics… or by fate. Her stomach twisted.

He replies. The other three did the same, and true to their claim, their marks were glowing. I let out a crazed laugh. "No, I'm not!" "Let's see your mark then." Mosley Froskarn, the quiet one, urges me calmly. I search the archives in my brain for a response to his request. But luckily, my warrior princess steps in with an intervention. "She... She does not have one," she whispers as if her next words ought to be top-secret. "She's a Prose."

I trailed off, unsure what I was trying to say because I honestly didn't remember taking anything. "Of course, Your Highness. There must be some mistake." He wrung his hands a little. "But protocol… perhaps if you would just allow me a glance into your bag, we can clear this misunderstanding immediately." He still seemed hesitant, clearly conscious of my royal status. Just then, a sharp voice cut in. "What's going on here, with the Princess?" It was Mrs. Gable from the pottery stall, her arms crossed and a look of both concern and confusion on her face. "She was just at Mr. Elms' spoon stand."

Walking up the stairs to the main doors I notice how heavy the security is, taking note of their position and the weapons they seem to be carrying. The chatter as we walk past some of the guests is quite amusing, who is this? Why is the princess with a wolf? Keeping the smirk off my face was hard. I am pulled back to the now as a small round man with beady eyes approached us. “Princess Lyra, I must say I am surprised to see you here tonight” He all but scoffs at my mate, making my wolf growl.

I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look at her, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, and moving my head to the music. When she’s around, it’s as if the storm inside of me becomes a tranquil sea and somehow the world doesn’t feel so bleak. But she’ll be gone soon, and it’s better, with the Crawlers, the Guardsmen… and these Chupacabras, if that is what they are, she’s not safe here. “Tell me, Princesa, do you like history?” “I do, and if you’re asking if I like to see historical places, I do,” she says sitting forward, I glance over at her, appreciating the fact that with my shades on I can admire her as much as I want.

While pondering this, she heard a distant voice say, "Princess Christina, please." Emma smiled and turned to see a long corridor ahead, a group of maidens following behind, elegantly approaching. The lead woman had her hair elegantly tied up, secured with ten hairpins that resembled a cloud. Her refined and graceful appearance and exquisite and luxurious attire marked her as Princess Christina. However, Emma sighed inwardly. Princess Christina was only twenty years old and possessed an air of immaturity. A thick layer of pale gray makeup masked her naturally rosy complexion. Her complexion appeared wan, and the corners of her eyes bore the signs of weariness. But perhaps the most unsettling

The party was about to start. Valentino led Luke and Alessandra to her room. Valentino opened the door and Alessandra squealed in shock. There was a princess ballgown in the middle of the room a shiny tiara on a small table beside it. Luke was shocked upon seeing the dress. It looked like it cost thousands. "Daddy, look! It's a princess gown!" Alessandra exclaimed as she ran to the dress. "Do you like it?" Valentino asked.