Princess X Novels & Stories

Harad indicated to him. But before he could respond, we heard a screech coming from the front of the aisle. A disheveled woman dressed in rags and bare feet stood there frantically waving her arms. She tried to scream something, but all that came out was a horrible sound. After several blinks, I realized it was none other than Xanne, the hybrid Princess. Dumbfounded, I first glanced at Harad before redirecting my gaze toward the figure. “Harad, didn't Walther claim to inspect her every day while she was locked up in the cell house?” I asked suspiciously. Then how did she find her way here all by herself?"

Mayonne explained, her tone both firm and sympathetic. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the door to Prince Xavier’s room opened, revealing a striking sight. A young woman with curly brown hair emerged, wearing a white and black princess gown. A sheer black shoulder coat draped elegantly over her shoulders, and her poised, graceful stride exuded regal elegance. Rara’s eyes widened in awe, her admiration evident. “A goddess!” she thought to herself, captivated by the woman’s ethereal beauty.

Viktor POV “Goddess, I know it’s only been a couple of months but man, I’ve missed this place,” Cedric said with a sigh. I took my seat at my desk and chuckled. “We’ve missed you here, Cedric,” I said. “So tell me. That other girl is the princess? As in, Princess Violette Dubois of the werewolves?” He asked. I nodded my head. “Yes, my slave princess,” I said. He let out a chuckle.

Hence taking his words into a serious fit, the prince of manly 25 stood up from his seat before approaching the huge transparent window at the other side of the space where his upperclassman friend was sitting. With a knowledgeable look drawn all around his features, the prince Rogan looked the other way before gutting to speak up soon in reply to the alarm of master Xavier. "The Princess is rumoured to be the most gorgeous woman in the entire territories of young Europe, Xavier." Uttering with a hint of caution, Prince Rogan rather seemed to already own the valid knowledge about everything. Which certainly surprised master Xavier who transferred his cold eyes to him only to see him all ser

A bright glow emanates from the baby and a collective gasp fills the hall. "A healer has been born to all the supernatural beings. Behold, a child born of a pure soul. A child born to a woman who suffered the most atrocities of life but remained pure. All the torture, pain, hurt, and abuse could not dampen her love nor cloud her pure heart. She chose forgiveness, over vengeance. She chose love over animosity. No matter how bad the blows were, Summer remained the indestructible princess that she rightly is. All hail our universal queen!" "All hail the Queen!" The End

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.

She lost her crown, her name, and her face—only to discover the truth behind the throne. Ariana Ophelia possessed everything a woman could desire: a crown, a kingdom, total power, and a prince who swore his devotion. Determined to prove herself stronger than her late father, she ruled Roseberst with an iron fist, trading compassion for absolute authority. Until she goes to sleep a ruthless queen—and wakes up a powerless servant. Trapped in the battered body of Elena, a maid she humiliated hours before, Ariana wakes into a twisted reality: her dead father is alive, the palace is subtly changed, and another woman sits on her throne—wearing Ariana’s exact face. When Ariana tries to re

I listen as the others walk into the door and I smile softly as Marinette comes up beside me and touches my arm as she asks, “Are you okay?” I nod, “I am. Just having to deal with my past.” The waves of pity roll off her and crash into me making me feel angry. I don’t want pity; I don’t need anyone’s pity. I am Lux Hale, the princess of werewolves, I have taken everything that life has thrown at me and I am coming out on top. There is no reason for anyone to pity me.

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.”

She raised her hand and fixed a rebellious lock of hair in front of her eyes. She sighed softly as she calmed down. She and Mirabelle really looked like two drops of water and she had the chance that nobody had: She was the look-alike of a princess and she should take advantage of it. She always knew how to differentiate her professional life from her personal life, so that's what she had to do... She was Mirabelle d'Orient, a princess and she should behave like one... Two knocks were heard at her door. She hurriedly closed the dressing room and took a good posture before allowing the one who had just knocked to enter... It was her two maids. Mila and Zora. Mirabelle had told her about them.