The 31st Consort Novels & Stories

“He would never.” A few nodded quickly, eager to agree. Others looked away. Lady Isolde—the eldest, silver-haired, the unofficial leader of this perfumed viper’s nest—leaned forward, fingers steepled, eyes gleaming. “Of course not, Your Highness. But the North is… traditional. An Alpha of Lord Vuk’s power, with the council always pressing for alliances, for heirs…” She let the words hang, heavy and deliberate. “A second consort is not unheard of. Practical, even.”

~ Although last night didn’t end up well for Princess Izabella, she had a big smile on her face the next morning like a woman free of all burdens All four consorts sat down in the lounge, with some snacks and drinks in front of them untouched, none of them seems interested in the entertainment in front of them as it isn’t enough to please their feelings Since Princess Izabella has been made the first princess consort and the only one capable of giving the royal throne a heir, the others has felt threatened by this and didn’t hide their sadness about this “Did the royal doctor visit you last night Izabella? My maid saw him walking out of your room” Princess Sonja asked with concealed sneer bu

Beside the tray lay a single, heavy envelope. Elara opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a card of thick, black cardstock with silver writing. ******** The First Three Rules of the Sacrifice Clause: 1. The Shadow's Reach: The Consort shall not cross the threshold of any exterior door without the Master’s hand upon her. To flee is to forfeit the life of the Saved (Mia Vance). 2. The Master’s Call: When the brand on the neck pulses thrice, the Consort has sixty seconds to find the Master's presence. Every second of delay is a minute of blood owed.

Yuna smiled reassuringly, "I'm okay. He hasn't done anything to me. I just got back from spying on him flirting with his consort." Princess Ara asked, "Is that true? I thought my brother doesn't have a consort other than you." Yuna choked when she heard this, "I'm not his consort! I didn't agree to this marriage!" Princess Ara frowned, "but isn't that too late now? You've already spent three years at his residence."

The King gestured down the table. “Since we have a guest,” he said, “introductions are appropriate.” A man seated halfway down the table leaned back in his chair, looking completely relaxed. He had dark hair and sharp features that reminded me faintly of Consort Vita. “I’m Fenton,” he said casually. His gaze flicked briefly toward Reed. “The eldest prince.” A small pause. Then he added with deliberate ease, “Son of Consort Vita.” His tone made the distinction clear. Across the table from him sat a woman with the same dark hair and sharp eyes.

was being delivered publicly, a calculated humiliation designed to break Lionel’s spirit and cement Genevieve’s status as the new queen of Wisteria. "And what of the Quinton Consortium?" Lionel asked, his voice a low, resonant baritone. "They won't take kindly to their partners being dismantled." Genevieve let out a short, sharp laugh. "The Quinton Consortium is currently… occupied. My benefactor has ensured that their attention is focused elsewhere. They’re a family of ghosts, Lionel, haunting a legacy that is rapidly being liquidated."

One of the Dukes retorted in righteous anger at the same time as the envoy who spoke in a regretful tone “Who knew that our prince consort would be executed here? How can we swallow the grievance of this unrighteous act?” “Oh??” Orseus leaned forward in interest “Why didn’t I know the prince consort was visiting?” He narrowed his eyes, his gaze scrutinizing as he asked, “Or was he here as a spy to assassinate me?” “What nonsense?” The envoy shouted, losing his calm “Our prince consort is a very modest person and does not like to fuss about, and was only taking a stroll admiring the scenery when he was brutally executed. You, have violated our peace treaty.” He pointed his finger at Orseus as

"Princess, you're overthinking. I just didn't want to get blood on your dress," I said. The three gentlemen, sensing the tension, didn't dare speak. Only the one with eyes similar to Gregory stepped forward. "Princess, I know medicine. Perhaps I could bandage the Consort's wound." "It's just a small injury. Your only job is to attend to the Princess," I immediately said. Before the man could even respond, Keisha grabbed another vase and smashed it.

Third POV The news spread faster than fire. By the time it reached Calder’s ears, he was sitting in the dark corner of his study, drinking from a silver cup, his eyes heavy with anger. He had heard it from one of his spies—plans were moving forward to make Julian Prince Consort of Lucien Green. The words echoed in his head again and again until his hand shook so much that the drink spilled on the floor. His jaw clenched as he slammed the cup against the table, the sound ringing through the room.

I turned away to hide the heat rushing to my cheeks. Damn him. Damn him for still knowing how to unravel me with a glance. “I’ll make the arrangements,” he said. “Your first appearance as my consort will be in three days. We’ll go in separately but leave together. I’ll have the tailor come by in the morning.” I crossed my arms. “Are you always this... meticulous when bribing women into being your human shields?” “Only the ones I can’t forget.” That silenced me. He moved to the door, hand brushing the wood, and paused before leaving.