The Cruel Prince Genre 소설 & 이야기

Under the pressure of Caspian, not only was his face pale, but his legs became weak and he directly fell to the ground, his eyes full of fear. "Caspian, you, you know my identity..." At this time, Prince was thirsty and stammered. However, Caspian's cold killing intent made it difficult for him to speak. The Prince wanted to use his royal status. But this identity was not convincing in Heaven's Edge Sect. He wanted to show his realm. However, Caspian had just killed the Amethyst Palace Realm, and the prince was just a Heavenly Spirit Realm, so he was probably not as good as an ant.

The first prince is the one lying in here, the heroine convinces this prince to help her stop the feud, and this prince whose been enchanted by the heroine's pure intention, agrees. The second prince comes from House Edame, Prince Nickel. He was a cunning prince, full of surprises as he obviously made by Maiden's mother a very adjacent character to his father, King Mille. The third prince is from House Firum, Prince Xenon. He was the last one who the heroine convinces because of the fact that they are the ones who receive the most sacrifice. He holds malice towards the heroine's intentions at first but soon gives in.

They're known for savagery. "Y-Your Highness, please, anything will do but that punishment. Spare my life please." The crown prince laughed with mockery as he put his finger below the ruined princess' chin and lifted it a little. "It's entertaining to hear you plead. I wouldn't think a beautiful and proud princess would stoop this low. Tsk! Too bad, this beautiful face will be wasted by those savage beasts, so if you fear such a thing, then you should not fail me."

Because being a prince teaches you early that silence keeps you breathing. I turned and walked away before he could say more, before he could carve those words any deeper into me. I hate being a prince. I hate what it demands. I hate the weight. I hate the rules dressed up as honor. I hate that everything I am gets measured against strength that looks exactly like cruelty. Somewhere along the way I learned that kindness reads as weakness and hesitation gets punished harder than violence. So I became sharp. Cold. An absolute dick. It was easier. If I was feared then no one looked too closely. If I was cruel then no one questioned my control. Being nice meant you were breakable. Being human me

There are only a few more events that are deeply engraved in my memory besides this one. Allow me start with the cold, boring facts about how it all began. The land, where I am from, lays far beyond the forest, hidden by tall, snowy mountain peaks and unknown and hard to track terrain, ruled over by a certain Prince Val Dragwer, or in the native language Val Dracul the Third. A prince, a general, a warrior, a warlord all of this he is; but above else he’s a strategist that carefully calculates his every move, in order to gain the upper hand and save as much of his people as he can. Generous and terrible, merciful and cruel, he’s all this and more at the same time. But this isn’t a story abou

Each sound Caelum made fed the chamber with something half-sacred, half-obscene. “Or so you were told,” Velis murmured. His voice was almost gentle now, though it struck like a knife. “And yet here you are. His eyes. His defiance. His blood resisting my cruelty as no mortal ever could.” He leaned close, lips brushing Caelum’s ear. “Perhaps you do not even know what you are.” The prince gasped through clenched teeth, his voice shredded but still iron. “I am the son of Ashan. I am the enemy you could not kill. I will never be yours.”

“I told you I’d fight with you—avenge my family, tear them apart! What more do you want from me? Why drag me through this hell?” He laughed again, a brutal, cold sound that raked over my skin like claws. I had heard rumors about his ruthlessness and how he treated his enemies. Prince Arineth was also known as the Ice Prince, having slain countless rogues without mercy. I never expected he would be crazier than they had described him.

I guess fighting grown men for two days would do that to you, and I was sure the prince would add a few of his own during our training sessions. I sighed; he was an entire problem on his own. The Prince of Vura was known to be cold hearted and cruel. Prince Devin was revered by the humans for his fierceness in battle, but also the barbaric nature towards anyone who stepped up to him. Stories were told through my people about him killing even children and women to get whatever he was after, and in the most horrific ways imaginable. At age eighteen he was leading the imperial army, and now at age twenty-one he had already been victorious in hundreds of battles. He had been bred to be a warrior

the chef handed Mikhail a knife and a basket of potatoes asking him to help him peel it. Mikhail had tried following in his brother's footsteps, yet it still felt like something he could not imitate. What could define a prince? It was an open ended question that he too was unsure of. However, to always remain hidden behind a mask of perfection... It was something he couldn't do. He was imperfect and incapable of acting as intended by William. Speaking of princes, it reminded him of how there was a rumour from long ago in a town he had stayed in many years ago of a young prince from a foreign land. Unlike most prince, he was unrefined and preferred to live out his life to the fullest.

He was a Prince, but apart from his wolf smell which he seemed to have gotten used to, he liked the feel of his soft skin against his fingers, even the sound of his voice was more than enough to turn him on. If not that they had both somehow passed out, he knew that he would have definitely gone all the way. Moreover, the thought of doing it with a werewolf excited Geran. “What do you…” “I want us to finish what we started,” but Geran had just spoken when he looked up to see Darun scoff and chuckle at him almost at the same time. “We’re both men are you crazy?” Drain asked slowly coming to the conclusion that the prince in front of them was slightly mad.