Princess House Cookware Novels & Stories

“A masque is a masque. Alaric. My King is holding it. It’s nothing to do with me. I didn’t ask him to invite the man.” “But you knew it was in his honor and failed to mention it.” He followed me down the stairs. Speaking in a low enough voice, others couldn’t hear us. I didn’t deny that. “Least you’re not bothering to play at ignorance.” “I usually don’t.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. Increasing my pace. Alaric’s lips twitched in contempt. He tilted his head dangerously. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Princess?” “Queen.” I corrected. Voice raising in outrage that he refused to acknowledge my title.

So instead, she sat on the stairs which leads inside her palace. The palace where she is staying is single-storied with a huge oak door in the entrance. That door opens into a walkway with plants on either side which ends in front of the wide staircase with a handful of steps. That staircase ends in front of another single oak door which opens into the main bedroom with a bath attached to it. There are two receiving parlors with velvet cushions and soft-looking mattresses, beside the main bedroom. There is a small kitchen at one end and a wash area to wash clothes and dishes. All the dishes used here are either earthenware or copperware. Copperware is used mostly used for plates to eat and g

I'd have destroyed her, had it not been for the Princess. Turning back to the Princess, I bowed my head. "The kitchen is this way because we just finished preparing the things for the meal. It was swept earlier in the morning. We will sweep it again before making the meals. We do not intend to make the Royal meal in a dirty environment, ma'am." "How dare you speak to me in this manner?" The Princess yelled, landing two slaps on my face in quick succession with her left and then her right hands. Well, I guessed so because both my cheeks felt the pain and she couldn't have done that with the same hand… Right?

~Oyon~ I shake and nod my head all at once. I watch her smooth hands hover around where she begins massaging a coconut-smelling oil on my skin. I have no doubt the dragon kept that shit in my room. That prince is big on skincare and stuff. Can spend hours looking at the mirror and practicing skincare routines or whatever it is he chooses to call it.

Just don't go easy on him, okay? As I left the basement, the groans picked up again but quickly faded into silence. Fiona took me to a room that was decked out in all my favorite colors. My graffiti art covered the walls, each piece framed, with my wobbly 'Cole' signature in the corner. Before I was taken, we were not exactly rolling in dough. Three of us crammed into one room, but we were a happy bunch. "Mom, how in the world did you end up running a casino in Macoria? And where did all this cash come from?"

"How can you bear to live here? Everything is so...basic." My mother turned up her patrician nose at my ten million dollar home with the Louis the thirteenth d閏or of which I'm so terribly fond. Yes mother, the dishes are only thousand year old Wexford, nothing at all like the gold chargers and cutlery we have back at the family home that dates back to the days of the Babylonian empire. "And the food, it has no substance to it, how do you survive?" Prime rib made just right, and new potatoes crisped in the oven with braised asparagus in Hollandaise sauce, along with accompanying dishes of roasted vegetables are indeed beneath the regal palate of my mother the princess.

She woke up in his bed with no memory of the night before. He was Dominic Blackwell — the most feared Alpha in Evermont, ruthless, cold, and devastatingly gorgeous. The one man her father would burn the world to destroy. And she had given him everything. Serena Ashford was supposed to become the next Alpha of the Bright Moon Pack. Instead, she was disowned, exiled, and carrying the enemy's baby — a baby he refused to believe was his. "I do not know who you are. Do not call this number again." One phone call. That was all it took for him to throw her away like she was nothing. But Serena was done being nothing. She scrubbed toilets to survive. She slept on floors. She gave birth alone

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.

You can’t help but want to eat everything she is eating because she makes it look so delicious. “Thank you. The food was delicious,” she says before getting up and walking towards the sink. I catch up with her standing in front of the sink and taken aback that she is actually putting in the water to wash her dishes. I am really impressed when I don’t see her morning cereal bowl anywhere. Princess is used to cleaning after herself and that’s just hot. I am very particular about my space and cleanliness. Many people get shocked when I clear my mess and wash my own dishes because I grew up with maids all my life. It seems we have something in common because she did too or maybe it’s just a mafi

Shaking off the thought, she walked into the mansion. Inside, Princess sat in the center of the vast living room, her eyes glued to a phone that looked more like a piece of jewelry than a device. It was a limited-edition holographic sapphire handset, featuring a seamless, translucent glass body that shimmered with a metallic cobalt finish. Its edge-to-edge display didn't just show images; it projected a soft, ambient glow around her fingers, and the camera lenses were recessed behind a smart-tinting crystal back. The phone immediately caught Isabella's attention as she was about to climb upstairs. she stared at it with admiration in her eyes. "Are you done staring at what you cannot afford?"