Royal Mess Mga Nobela at Kwento

Moments later, we began to eat the food on our seats. "It's delicious." She moaned as she ate a cookie. "Here, try some." She dropped a few on my plate. What the hell? When I looked at her, she gave me a big smile. I dropped the idea of lashing out at her. It was just some cookies. "Everything about the Royal Academy is exceptional, you know. I am very excited." She continued. Yeah, I could see that. I bit back my smile. "We will have a new school, new friends, new teachers, a new dormitory..."

As always, he just had to hit the bull’s eye. “What can I say? I AM about to get my hands on something. By nook or crook.” Besides, it was high time the queen returned to her throne! ~~~ KENYA POV Two weeks. Two bloody, long weeks of my mind replaying my meeting with Royal on a broken loop and refusing to cut me some slack. Gosh, I needed a fucking breather. Royal was once again destroying the peace in my world and all he had to do was spring out from the hell he had been stuffed in and start spewing that nonsense about missing me and stuff.

One is for Stark and his relations to have their meals, while the other is for his pack members. “No, why?" I furrowed my brows as she asked the question. I've always pondered the meaning behind the name "Royal." Isn't it true that royals are typically associated with representing kings? I also observed that while the people here dress elegantly, they don't actually belong as royals. Reflecting on it now, I realize that it doesn't really make sense. Why name a pack Royal, build a castle, and follow their dressing style when they aren't related to a king for that matter? None of it made sense. As if sensing my confusion, she chuckled at my puzzled expression. “Alpha William’s older brother is

It wasn’t his fault he was born of royal blood, and all I have to do is carry that with him. “How about my son here, Thomas?” King Ricardo suddenly perched. I heard two different things that moment. Coughing and laughing. The coughing was from me and Thomas, and the laughing was from Althea and Keith. “I’m sorry, what?” Thomas, who was in front of King Ricardo, almost drowned in his water. “Thomas is a likely suitable partner for Ruthy. He is of royal blood, he has the looks, the brains and the manners. They would rule Rinovea marvelously,” King Ricardo added.

“So, ready?” “For what?” I was starstruck every time I met royals. I still found it hard to wrap around my head that I met and shared a meal with royalties. The door swung opened again, then two men in suits put down a couple of paper bags. “What are those?” “We’re going out,” she announced gleefully. “Princess Carlott, I can’t.”

It was certainly nothing like the picnics Ava had been on in the past, with floppy paper plates, plastic forks, and knives that wouldn’t cut through melted butter let alone anything else. The food provided by the royal kitchen was nothing short of delightful, every morsel was a work of art in itself and artfully arranged to entice even the most jaded of appetites. Federico led Ava to the silky fabric-covered chair opposite his, and, once he was sure she was comfortable, took his own seat, instructing the driver/waiter to serve their meal.

Rose asked “I also don’t know,” After thirty minutes, we arrived at their pack's territory. We’ve entered a trail of trees, I can smell the wind change and the number of wolves. As we go along I can see a big old stone mansion. “The palace used to be bigger than that, “ Caleb said, “After the human war it was destroyed and this is what is left,” he said. “It was also the same incident that moved the different titles for royals like us. But my people still call my father King and I, the prince,”

Queen Marjorie asked. “No, I did not. Thank you, Your Majesty.” “Great.” King Arthur smiled. “I know you’re still unfamiliar with a lot of things but with time, you’ll do just fine.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Amelia bowed slightly. “You can stop calling us that. You’re family now.” The princess nodded. “That being said, you should get ready to attend the royal academy.” “Royal academy?” “Yeah, we have an academy here for princes and princesses from neighboring kingdoms. You need to attend till you’re made the Crown Princess.”

His fingers wrapped around my throat, tilting my head up and forcing me to look into his eyes. “You filthy creature. You're not entitled to look at me or speak to me in this manner,” he gritted out, his face impossibly closer to mine. My heart twisted painfully, and I forced myself to hold back tears. “Why? Are you a Royal?” I managed to ask. His grip tightened. He cocked his head. His gaze blazing. “Yes. I am a Royal and you will address me as Prince Damian Emilio.”

And just like that, they move on. “Let’s watch something,” Enrique says, weakly, voice still high, grabbing the remote. As if nothing happened. The news channel cuts abruptly, and suddenly, Damion and Logan fill the screen. “MotoGP champion Damion Grimm is on his way to London alongside his best friend, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Logan Blackburn. The Monster Reaper team will attend the annual Royal Charity Race, hosted by the Royal Family. It is speculated that a prince will be present to hand over the winner’s trophy.”