Royal Mask Novels & Stories

“The Rulers are not just some wealthy dudes playing secret society. They’ve been around for centuries, manipulating politics, pulling strings from behind the scenes. Think the Illuminati, but nastier. They’re after an artifact—an old relic that they think holds the key to ultimate power.” Linda snorted, leaning back. “Aren’t they all? What is it, some ancient necklace? A golden scepter?” Leila shook her head, her expression darkening. “The King’s Mask. It’s not just a symbol of power. It’s something more. Well, for them, they are an eccentric lot. And the Rulers think if they get their hands on it, they can use it to reset everything—governments, banks, all of it. They believe they can bring

My heart did a slow somersault as I watched them arrive. The King and Queen led the procession, looking every bit the iron-willed rulers they were, draped in heavy furs and silk. The Queen wore a mask of intricate gold lace that fanned out like a sunburst, while the King’s mask was a solid, imposing piece of silver that matched the crown atop his head. But my eyes were locked on the pair behind them.

With graceful smiles, they extended their hands in greeting. "Shana, you look incredible," the Queen said, her voice soft but carrying an air of authority. "Your gown and mask suit you well." The Queen's mask was a dark red, a shade that I had never seen before. It contrasted against her eyes that were similar to her son's. It made me wonder what her wolf looked like. "Thank you, Your Majesty," I replied, offering her curtsy, trying to keep my voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Royal Wedding Micah sat in front of the dressing mirror, her swollen eyes covered with makeup, her brown hazel eyes drained of life, and her face masked with contour. Her long black hair was brushed and styled into a sophisticated low bun; a hairpin, which extended as a veil, concealed her face but was transparent and easy for the eyes to peer through. Micah was wearing a white gown with red color tints at the bottom of the dress. Heavy necklaces rested on her chest like a burden, and a black diamond earring dangled on both sides of her ears.

Logan Nielsen "Did someone recognise you?" My father asked. "No, I will be fine here." I said as I sat down on the sofa. "Very well, I'll contact you again later. Take care of yourself, son." My fa5her ended the call. My father is the King of Denmark, Valentino Nielsen. I'm Logan Christopher Nielsen, the Prince of Denmark. As much as I love being in the palace, I have to get put of it. Why? There's been a lot of scandals surrounding me lately but all of them are not true so to slowly due them down, I have to go to London to continue my school here.

They said it's the King's orders that she should be taken to the royal dressing room. While they bathed her and clothed her, she wondered what was happening. The only time this has happened was the night she bedded the king for the first time. Why is she having a Royal Bath? But, when the outer clothing she'll wear was brought out, Danika swallowed tightly because she already has an idea. The wear is former wear for slaves on a particular occasion. The Mask Festival. The Mask Festival is a festival that's done every year in all the kingdoms where people that attend the festival wear a mask on their faces. They do it to honor the traditional god no one sees.

But Elena's attention immediately went to his face. Max was wearing a brilliantly carved white mask that covered most of his face, leaving only his lower jaw exposed. It looked like it was made of porcelain and painted with gold and silver. Each delicate line traced back up to the top of the mask, where gold and silver wires formed an abstract crown. The mask looked heavy but it stayed perfectly in place. The single thick black ribbon must've been very strong. "You look beautiful," Max said softly, extending a gloved hand in Elena's direction. "Though you always do. But today you look like a princess."

Nobles laughed behind jeweled masks, their eyes betraying secrets far deadlier than their smiles. Elara stood at the heart of it all, wearing a gown of deep sapphire that clung to her curves and shimmered with every movement. A delicate mask adorned her face, but it did little to hide her tension. This masquerade ball was more than just a lavish event—it was a test. Tonight, the royal family was hosting the most powerful figures in the kingdom, and hidden among them was the enemy who had orchestrated the recent assassination attempt. Her fingers curled into her silk gloves as she scanned the crowd. Every step she took was deliberate, measured, as if one wrong move could shatter the fragile i

The original diamonds must have been obscenely large, that he had them cut down into claws shows he has so much money he can waste it on decoration, ruining what were possibly priceless gems just to make a point. But none of that was as impressive as his headdress. Attached with some type of sophisticated harness, His headdress and mask is that of an imperial dragon so ornate he looks like he could have stepped from out of an ancient Chinese tapestry. Debrassy wanted to make sure everyone knows who is king of this manor. No, King of New York.

"Well this is interesting" He seems suddenly excited. I swat his hands away as his eyes darken. He's mind-linking. Suddenly a man steps in holding a dagger. "Don't get me wrong, it's a pretty little mark. A crown to represent the Prince- soon to be King. But the thing is, Miss Turner, he won't be the King" I watch as he waves the dagger in front of my face. My eyes follow the path of the blade as it moves just in front of me face. My mark actually begins to tingle with pain. "As of tonight, your mate's pack will die"