Novel & Cerita Princess With Black Hair

He just pretended she didn't exist, until she got up and left. The next one came later, but she wasn't a princess, but the daughter of a very rich duke. She was tall and she had black hair that had been tied into a bun, and adorned with golden pins. She wore a long purple dress that took her curves perfectly, while the gown flowed freely down from the knee. The up of the gown was open to reveal a slender neck and her boobs peeked out a little. The girl walked to the seat and made herself comfortable. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the infamous prince Raziel." She said without the usual smile the others had. Raziel noticed how she spoke with confidence. Even though the other princesses carr

I pick the meat I dropped and continue nibbling on it. “Oh the hair!” She says, boldly stepping up and taking a strand of my hair in her hands. “I was wondering what was different. Very smart, dyeing it brown. Your white hair stood out way too much.” “Prince.” I croak, depicting a crown on my head and touching my hair. She looks down at me in confusion for a second before her fierce eyes narrow on me. “The prince?” She says, dropping the hair. “He is the one that dyed your hair?”

She says, then turn to us. “Meet your Royals, ” she starts to introduce all eight of them to us one after the other. The Princess was the one who spoke initially. She is very pretty and not so friendly, she has long blonde hair and she reeked of elegance. Then she introduced the other nobles at the table and then finally, the second prince. Prince Louis. He seemed friendly to me, as a matter of fact he got to his feet almost immediately and walked towards us, me in particular.

The girl says shyly. “Hello, Mandy. Where are your parents?” I ask. The girl, Mandy, didn’t answer, but pointed at the many tables, and it could have been anyone she was pointing at. “Is it true, you are a princess?” The girl asks and blushes. “Yes, I am,” I say and smile. “My friends say I cannot be a princess, because my hair is black. They say princesses have light hair.” The girl says, looking sad. I turn on my chair so I face her properly. And I lift her up to sit on my lap, and I am very much aware that everyone is looking at me.

"My King, when will we have a piece of her? I'm aching all over to personally whip her till she has no more blood to give out. The rest of the royal council are also requesting a date for her special torment." There was an underlying meaning in his words. It wasn’t just about the pain they would cause her. It was about the pleasure they could wring dry from her after all, she was said to be the most beautiful princess with black hair that shamed even the darkest raven and skin that brightly contrasted her hair so much. Of course, everyone wanted a piece of her. Only, it was never going to happen. No one knew the real reason why she was the price for the sins o

“Give them whatever they ask for.” Raven looked back at me briefly. “Don’t cause trouble.” “I have done anything. He’s the—” She hissed at me. Red glowing eyes. I felt fear strike through me as I was suddenly cast back into that hazy dream. I could hear that woman cackling. Raven set her jaw and turned back to Paul. He hesitated but nodded. “As you wish, Princess.” She put a pile of gold coins on the counter. “For the trouble.”

A harsh laugh, devoid of humor, echoed in the confined space. “Where you belong, princess. For now.” A hand, large and calloused, brushed against her cheek, a touch that made her skin crawl. She flinched away, a desperate, futile movement. “Don’t touch me.” Her voice, though still weak, held a surprising edge of defiance. “Feisty, ain’t she?” the gruff voice mused. “James sure picked a spirited one.”

--- Yuki's POV New hair. New me. Correction: New iconic hair. Even more iconic me. I stepped out of the salon, running a hand over my newly snow-white hair. The dull brown tresses that had yelled, "I pay taxes and cry before bed" were no more. I now looked like an anime heroine with a bad trauma record and a glitter habit. Short—perfect. "I look like a deadly elf," I gasped, peering at my reflection in a window. "A sexy, emotionally unstable elf queen.".

The sheer scale of the event was a testament to its importance. Princess Isabella, standing beside her mother on the dais, watched the scene unfold with a composed expression. Yet beneath her regal exterior, a storm of emotions brewed. Dressed in a gown of flowing white silk contrasted beautifully with intricate gold embroidery, she looked every inch the princess—dignified, radiant, and untouchable. Her light golden hair, styled in intricate braids that cascaded down her back, and her icy blue eyes, inherited from her mother, shone with determination and guarded resolve.

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