The Crownless Again Shall Be King Novels & Stories

In her eyes, as if it was moving just like the trees and plants outside, as the strong wind blew and the hard rain drops were heard. When she didn’t hear Alexios’ reply, she shifted her eyes to her front, only to find the prince reading her proposal. She gasped and stood on her feet, trying to reach the paper out of his hands. But the nicely not-so-nicely prince just took advantage of their height difference. He just stood tall and continued reading. "What Astrrid said was true, huh. You were already trying to step into the royal throne." Hannah can’t help but roll her eyes. Of course, it was expected that she would ascend to the throne.

Lance’s voice was strong as it echoed through the room. “Then with this crown, I leave my throne and my people in your care, my son.” The King removed his staff and picked up the crown with both hands and set it gently on top of Lancelin’s head. “Bow, Lancelin Eustein, servant of the Gods above, and rise King Lancelin Eustein, the new ruler of the Incubi Kingdom.”

"We will not falter, Father. Today, we send a clear message that the throne will remain unyielding against any who dare challenge it." With a knowing look, the king placed a hand on his son's shoulder, conveying a silent understanding and unspoken bond between them. "Our ancestors built this kingdom with unwavering resolve, and it is our duty to protect it at any cost," he stated, his tone emphasizing the weight of their greediness for the throne. Both father and son knew that the Adelstein had been plotting a rebellion under the guise of the coronation festivities. Determined to thwart their plans, the king and Addison had devised a strategy to catch them off guard

"But let us not let the romanticism of the evening cloud our judgment of the Law. The Crown is a heavy burden." He turned his gaze to me, his eyes cold and dismissive, still seeing nothing but the exiled girl the Sandwell pack must have painted me as. "I must remind you, Sol, that the Royal Ascension is quite specific. A Prince may only rule alongside a born Luna or a made Alpha of a recognized Pack. To dream of anything else is... well, it's a fantasy that the Shifter Nation cannot afford." A heavy murmur of agreement rippled through the older Alphas in the crowd. Carlo was playing his best card: Tradition. He was publicly painting me as a commoner, a distraction that would disqualify Sol f

The Lunari chair stood empty, draped in black. I looked around, I seen my father sitting at the head of the table, our king, a towering figure in both stature and presence, exuded an aura of cold, unyielding ambition. His eyes, sharp and calculating, gleamed with an insatiable hunger for power an appetite that could never be sated, no matter how many kingdoms he claimed or how many crowns he added to his collection. His face was lined with the marks of age and experience, but there was no softness in his expression, no trace of kindness or warmth. The people who looked upon him saw not a father, but a ruler, a king forged from iron will and relentless desire for control.

"Not for myself. For every innocent life this night has already claimed, and every one that ritual might yet save." The king knelt in front of him a final time, removed the crown from his own head, and set it gently on a stone altar that had appeared, somehow, at the center of the ruined war room—the same crown, Caierre understood with a cold jolt, that sat in the real world above him, right now, glowing bright enough to fill an entire buried chamber. "Then let us begin," the king said, "before there is nothing left of this kingdom worth saving." ~~

The letters were uneven, rushed, and old, but they struck me with the force of my mother’s voice. My little wolf, if you find this crown, then every lie has failed to keep you small. My vision blurred. Conri stepped closer but said nothing. Bardolph’s pain flickered through the bond, but he held himself silent. I kept reading. This crown is not proof that you must rule. It is proof that you were born free before men wrote contracts over your name. My breath shook. The crown warmed in my hands, and the hidden power beneath the red stones seemed to listen.

“And I don’t chat with his errand boys.” He didn’t even blink. “It’s about the will. You’ll care.” She snorted, a harsh, bitter sound that hurt her throat. “What, he leave me a stale cookie? Keep his scraps.” She started trudging off, boots slurping in the mud, but Roman kept pace, his umbrella suddenly over her head. It pissed her off, him crowding her like that, like he thought she’d melt. “It ain’t scraps,” he said, calm as hell. “It’s half his empire. Fifty billion, rough guess.”

"Vera does not want to be elected. She wants the crown the old way. The way that carries more legitimacy than any vote." "The ritual," I say. "The ritual needs the crown held by an ancient right, not a modern one. A voted crown is not the same instrument as a combat crown. She knows this. She has always known this." Queen Alara sets the document down. "This was always the plan." --- Kael finds me outside twenty minutes later. I am standing in the same field where we buried Dag. The ground is still soft there. The day is cold and flat and the sky is the color of something that has not decided yet.

The king came up, placing his hands on the railing just on the other side of Bane, who promptly snarled at the man as he leaned over the railing to once more address the crowd. "Are we ready to play?" He called over the crowd, and they roared with cheers, but I just watched Xavier. He wasn't paying attention to the king in the slightest. Instead, that sharp gaze was trained on me, watching every single little move I made. "Bring out the horde." The man bellowed, and the roar of the crowd heightened to an almost deafening level as they chanted the last statement of their king.