Novel & Cerita Royal Up

“Peggy!” Mrs Jones, the royal tutor, shouted down the hall. Peggy giggled and sprinted away. For all her years growing up in the royal castle, Peggy had never quite fit in with the royal family. Perhaps it was because she was only a cousin to the regent princess. Maybe she was just different, as the court liked to call her. Peggy didn’t much care either way. She was allowed a great deal of freedom, especially compared to other human royal courts. Songtar had always been a permissive kingdom in the continent of Albiontё, even before their marriage alliance with the werewolf pack to the North.

In a seat designated for royalty. How is this happening?

At the Royal Academy Rose was doing her fighting practice as she always loved fighting from her childhood. Some girls were also in the practice room doing several exercises. She was practicing with her best friend Sheila. Who happened to be the daughter of her father's second in command. It's been one month since Rose didn't meet her parents. She was sent to the Royal Academy for wolves, where all the ranked wolves learn fighting, politics, how to be a leader, and enhance their special skills. But Rose was not just a ranked wolf from any pack. She was a royal princess. Her father was the king of the Northern Kingdom of werewolves. Her family rules over more than twenty-five packs of werewolv

She swallowed, her body suddenly remembering its previous weakness. "No, you are not." Rebekah grasped her face. "You are not." "What would getting married to him do? It would only turn mother against him and she could hurt him even more." "Depends on when she finds out about it." Rebekah grinned. "Have you been gone so long you have forgotten the custom of your own home?" "What are you talking about." "Polygamy is forbidden here, especially in the royal family. They see it as a sure way to ensure an heir is produced. So female or male, royals are only allowed one husband. You can't marry another while your first is still alive."

Now all Akana wanted was for him to close it. "I wear the royal title Rial Cariad. Royal consort. This makes me royal. I thought priests of Aevitism learn some general knowledge? Or are you trying to say that Eitir doesn't have the status required to have royalty?" The silence laid thick in the room, and as no one had anything to utter, Akana continued.

Avera asked him, making conversation. "I haven't, but I have heard about it. The upperclassmen say it becomes useful later. They come here often searching for answers. We are given a security pass and a key code when we are accepted to the Royal Academy for studies. If we are to serve the state, we must have access to its secrets," he said. Then, realizing he had moved things from a nice chat to a dark and heavy topic, he became embarrassed. "Plus," he added quickly, "it really builds those calf muscles!" He laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the tension. "It's great exercise to climb up here." Avera laughed. "Right," she said, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

“Royal household. This is the butler speaking. How may I be of help?” “I need to speak directly to the king.” “And who is this?” “Don Aziel.” “A moment please.” The line went mute for five minutes before someone finally spoke. “Hello,” finally the king said, his voice unmistakably irritated. “We have a problem.” “If this is about Zarek being stubborn, rest assured I’ve had enough for today. Tell him I’ll cut his allowance.” “He’s been kidnapped,” I said, not having the time to mince my words. “How did that happen? I thought you—”

“Julian is… entertaining. The typical story everyone would like. But Rowan?” I paused deliberately, rolling my eyes in a flirtatious manner. “Rowan is legacy.” Camilla blinked. “Legacy?” “He’s literally royalty,” I said. “The second son of the English royal family. That’s not just a regular status… that’s history.” Chloe tilted her head. “You don’t even like all that royal pressure stuff.” “I don’t,” I agreed. “But If it is with Rowan, it's different.” Julian is best for attention, but Rowan wasn't the type to get involved with it.There was something far more compelling about someone who carried weight quietly. He held himself like he didn’t need anyone’s approval. Which meant winning his at

The man had a very dark history among us commons. It is known that the blood of royals is immortal. Meaning, once you’re a royal, wedded to a royal and sealed by blood covenant or born of a royal. You would live eternally. There was only one plant, of which its name is always only known by the King and the Chief Healer of the castle, could kill a royal. It is said its venom is slid into the hilt of a dagger and when it is very necessary, the royal would be stabbed directly in his/her heart to put an end to their lives.

It was the Day of the Ritual, a tradition for every ruler of my bloodline to prove they are the strongest soul in the land. ​I ran a slow, casual hand through my hair. It was long and as white as a fresh snowfall, a shining symbol of my pure, royal blood. I knew I looked magnificent. I wore a simple silver tunic that was thin enough to show the muscle beneath, catching the rays of the sun like a mirror. "Our king is so beautiful!" "Asher is the strongest!" "He is prettier than all my daughters combined." I heard some of their talks ​The noise was like a physical wall of sound. Thousands and thousands of my subjects sat on the stone benches that rose so high they seemed to touch the clouds.