Princess' Or Princess's Novels & Stories

Her nose is high, and her lips are red and full. She is the lovely princess of Elhasa Kingdom. She is watching the dancers gracefully dance in the middle. Their bodies are vigorously swaying with the accompaniment of the music instruments played by the musicians that her father, the king, hired for her twenty-first birthday, which will be happening only an hour away from now. “Your Highness.” A deep male voice called behind her. Princess Alf turned and saw a handsome knight wearing red armor standing by the door. He has a perfectly chiseled face, thick and long brows, dark red eyes and flaming red hair.

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."

The palace gates had not stood this tense in years. Guards lined the walls in double ranks, spears gleaming in the afternoon sun. Banners fluttered above, the silver wolf of her family’s crest snapping in the breeze. From the balcony above the courtyard, Elara’s breath clouded faintly against the cool air. Her palms gripped the railing, hidden by the folds of her gown. She forced her shoulders back, her chin high, every inch the princess she was expected to be.

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.

All that is known about them is that they do not have princesses; they are all princes, and this is the reason for their strength. She prepared herself, and her maid took her to her chariot that would take her to the kingdom of her unknown prince. She caught a glimpse of the king of the kingdom of darkness as he climbed in his chariot and set off to suddenly open the door of the cart she was riding in, and her prince climbed in to launch the cart with lightning speed to enter a black gap, a time gap that helps in moving between kingdoms. The allies quickly and easily found themselves suddenly in front of a palace—no, rather, a very high and huge castle, more than her father's palace in seve

He smiled and fished the small key from his pocket, placing it in my hand just as Tobi handed him a glass of something amber and strong. “There you go, Uncle Cayden,” Tobi said. “It’s still Thefros to you, boy,” Cayden replied with a wink in my direction. “Oh, I see how it is. The official titles don’t apply to the princess, apparently,” Tobi teased, pretending to be offended. “Well, maybe you should try being as charming as that one,” Cayden said, pointing at me. “Alright, enough out of you two,” I said, rolling my eyes fondly.

As I dropped my eyes on my feet absentmindedly, his voice added again, stressing on one word, " Princess.."

Jin thought to himself in confusion, blinking at her odd choice of words, “You forgot to water them, you mean? Don’t you have a gardener or something for your plants? What if you’re busy?” “No,” the Princess immediately answered, her voice turning a pitch lower, sounding almost possessive, ominous, “…they are mine.” “I was just–” “I prefer to take care what’s mine.” Jin blinked, taken aback… And then smiled, “You’re… very responsible,” “Well, they are my pride and joy,” the Princess shrugs… a short, elegant movement of her shoulders rising Jin thinks wasn’t really fit to be referred as such. He hums, “Aren’t they a hassle to deal with?”

There had to be a worthy ruler of Oceane; I just wasn’t sure it was Prince Sadeon. “The gown looks lovely on you, dear.” Lyla smiled warmly. I turned to my maiden. “It’s impossibly tight.” She scowled. “Of course it is, milady. How else will the Prince fall smitten?” I suppressed a shiver. “I told you not to call me that, Lyla. My father isn’t here.” She chuckled. “You may dress like a Princess, but you sure don’t act like one sometimes, milady. It is proper to address someone of your status respectively.”