Romans & histoires The Betrayed Princess Rising

"I have half her soul, and she has half mine. Every tainted bit of me belongs to her. But I always ignored the signs. You see, I came into this game with a clear goal in mind. But her goodness, her warmth Her hand fit perfect in mine. Everything she did stole a piece of my heart She broke through the iron cage Releasing emotions I never knew I had even from the start. Because, I failed to realize it, but even then The game lied in the hands of the princess I was the traitor in her den. The princess didn't belong to me But my soul belongs to her And in the end, after all is done The conclusion is that the princess has won!"

“Do you know who I am? No? The Princess Royal, rightful heir to the late King Gregory of Vercia. Take me back to the palace and I will give each of you your body weight in gold coins.” Miriam gasped, not only at the treachery but because of the notion that she herself had been deemed to be worth so little. She didn’t blame Ketil for that; his offer had been a generous one. “We’ll pass.” Daphne looked astounded, until the self-appointed leader of the two villains added, “I’m more interested in your body, yellow hair, and once we’re ashore I can guarantee you a good time.” The oarsman suddenly let fly with his pole, the flat blade of which caught Sassa unawares, and she dropped like a stone, t

He couldn’t believe that little pathetic worm that he had let live that day had reared her ugly head this way at him. This time he will make sure he gave her pain worse than death before he showed her place. How dare that Princess play with him? How eff*ng dare, Scarlet betray him when he let all her indiscretions slide? He didn’t even bother her when she stole from the treasury to lavish on the soldier. He could now piece it all together. She was bribing the soldiers to make them sweet just for this moment. No wonder they shifted sides this easily. With build-up fury, he lunged at the barrier again.

We entered the grand court, taking our seats in the front and center of the room, our children to our sides. "Now enters Lady Lyssandra MaComb, witch of Faerl, whose charges are as follows: Charge 1: kidnapping the Prince Aranelda Tirisil, concealing his identity, and lying to Their Highnesses causing them to believe he was dead at birth. Charge 2: inappropriate use of concealment magic, impersonating Her Royal Highness, endangering Princess Elentari Tirisil and Duke Scott MaComb, the royal protector of the princess until the date of her 18th birthday. Furthermore, Lady Lyssandra MaComb is charged with knowingly conspiring to kill both the Prince and Princess of Faerl. Lady Lyssandra MaComb,

Once bitten, twice shy. Princess Claire watch from her window Fallon hurrying out of Princess Izabella's quarters, she smile to herself as her boldness to betray her again. of course she knew one of her maids is working against her back in Aither and before she could even complete the test of loyalty for the two, Fallon had given herself off When she came back and pleaded to work for her again, that's when she decide to find out who she was working for. And took steps so Princess Roseline doesn't get the honor but gave it Princess Emma instead.

“Why betray him now? You’ve defended him at every turn.” Her laugh was bitter, hollow. “He betrayed me first. I overheard him on the phone. He’s planning to pin it all on me. If the Feds get involved, I’m his scapegoat. He said my name, Emelda. He’s setting me up.” Her desperation was palpable. The socialite mask was gone, replaced by a woman terrified of the man she’d chosen to stand beside. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. “And you thought running to me would solve your problems?” I asked softly.

To the world, I'm Sophia Romano—the family's wild, radiant princess. Vincent is the mafia heir—stoic, controlled, the very picture of restraint. But every night, he grips my waist, fucking me until my legs go weak while whispering my name over and over: "Principessa." He just doesn't know that in two weeks, I'm marrying someone else. The sheets are still damp with our shared heat. I lie in bed, catching my breath as Vincent rises to dress.

Merely hurried. She had me rub creams, dab perfumes, blow dry then curl my hair and pin it up in a most elegant fashion. I blushed when I saw the lingerie but put it all without question as well. When I saw the dress, I freaked out. “There has to be a misunderstanding!” I was a prisoner here. Surely there was no need for all of this primping. The maids only shrugged “Alpha Alexander’s orders.” Alpha Alexander. The Lycan King. Fuck.

I ask, feeling his fingertips massage my scalp. “Not at all.” He reassures me. “You went through one of the worst betrayals. If you need a moment to just breathe, then breathe. My home is your home, Princess.” His lips press against the top of my head, and I notice it lingering longer than normal. I bask in his warmth, letting it chase away the numbness in my heart. Jonathan will be after me with a vengeance now that what he did to me was out there on the internet, but it serves him right. He made his bed by sleeping with Helen, now he can lie in it.

My heart already battered from the weight of recent battles and the sting of betrayals I had tried to swallow and seemed to fracture all over again at the sound of those two words that followed like a final blow… The Skywalk Tribe, and with it, the name of the woman who now threatened everything I thought I had—Princess Almira. I had heard whispers about her long before this moment; noble-born, graceful, and ruthless in the art of political games. A perfect match in the eyes of kings and counsellors. The kind of woman bred for alliance, not love. Then, yet, here she was, looming over my life like a shadow I hadn’t seen coming.