Richard Iii Novels & Stories

he washes himself unseen, by some mysterious spirit. An impulse to which he sweated for years and with unshakable will he had fought with various weapons in his great battle Bosworth and defeated the equalities with the king who fought with the same interest, Richard III, keeping them only for himself, at that time the Earl of Birmingham was only twelve years old, the age of a lad quite dark for the serenity of his countenance, so all his servants and lackeys left him speechless with their frantic impassivity, of admiration on the evening of August 22, 1485, a pity that this had not gone well with a bad mood of the king, who, with his hands stained with blood

Romeo was groaning with pain and could not see clearly for his right eye was totally blind. He was in the back of a van and his whole body was soaked in blood. What was supposed to be his clothes were torn into blood soaked rags. He could not feel his body. He felt totally numb and his voice could not come out. He was trying to call for help but nothing could make sense as his voice could not be heard. The only sound that was dominating was the sound of the engine of the van he was in. It was roaring as it bumped on the gravel road making his body to ache even more. It was as if every bone in his body was broken. He could not even lift a finger. The more he tried to make a move the more the

I take a large gulp of the amber liquid and sigh with the familiar burn of it as it slides down my throat. “Castillo came to me a while back with some interesting information and now I don’t know what the fuck to do” I’m going to honest here and hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. Leonardo Catillo is one of the Roman and Dimitris top enemies and the information I have could fuck up our closeness and possible Indigo and Durani’s friendship. “If its about Durani being Leonardo’s granddaughter then we already knew that” Roman says before taking a sip from his still full glass.

Turning to King Richard, he relayed a chilling message: "General Victor sends his regards." As the driver's silver handgun roared, King Richard's world spiraled into chaos. The bullets, each a harbinger of betrayal and treachery, tore through his lungs, head, neck, and whole body, until 24 bullets had been fired. Then the driver stopped. However, time seemed to rewind, bringing King Richard back to the crucial moment, 60 seconds before his untimely demise. With the foreknowledge of the impending betrayal, he swiftly canceled his call to General Victor, altering the course of events that led to his assassination.

Third person pov Richard was still contemplating on what to do to his daughter who had turned against them, he couldn't go to the king because it would destroy their family name like she said so he had to find out what to do before it was too late and Rebecca grew wings and truly abandoned them. As Richard was lost in thought, a knock came from the door, and he broke out of his thoughts and said, "Come in." Then the door opened up, and a maid walked in with a letter in her hand, "Good Evening Duke, this letter came for you," the maid said as she placed the letter on his table

He needed to flip the script. His eyes scanned the room, landing on a heavy mahogany desk near the balcony. Sitting atop a stack of correspondence was a letter opener. It wasn't a sword, but it was steel—gold-plated, sharp, and heavy enough to do damage if he caught the King off-guard. Nikos approached the desk, his heart slamming against his chest like a trapped bird. His hands were shaking so hard he almost dropped the damn thing. He gripped the hilt, feeling the cold metal bite into his palm. This is it, he thought. No more being the victim. If I’m going down, I’m taking the crown with me.

Leona speaks in a soft and motherly tone. Just then, Richard made his way to the celebration that is happening within the courtyard, though the borrowed shirt is untucked and on the side of his right hand is a blood splatter that he covers with the other hand. He looks over the crowds of loyalist that he has attracted but all of them seem too busy to notice him which is a good thing until one of the partygoers cross his path and looks over a table. Rory is known to be faithful to the pirates of the old world, but now he follows the king’s lineage. His voice is heavy and rustic like most of the men that are a part of the Valadin. “Some party, eh?” He says while he grabs a goblet and pours som

Not this complicated mess where I was apparently connected to the Lycan king’s playboy son, my brother’s best friend who wanted nothing to do with me, and now possibly the most dangerous guy in school. What the hell has the goddess gotten me into?

What had she gotten herself into? She followed the maid outside who escorted her to this other room. She looked at the room, so beautifully furnished with a nice floral painting which brought back memories. What exactly was that painting that had brought her so much trouble in the end? The maids left and the prince came in. “You like the room?” he asked. “Can you tell me why you hate me so much to the extent of putting me into this position now?” “Why do you say I hate you?” “Why did you pick me when you were supposed to pick her?”

"Bring me the chess pieces, Sheffield, and I'll put Lennox in a checkmate he cannot escape." END OF BOOK THREE