The Cruel Prince Jude Novels & Stories

“I don’t need a Hunt, Beckett. And I certainly won’t be Sparking with any brownies or winged creatures either. It’ll happen when the Goddess wills it.” “Maybe, but if you don’t plant your seed in some fertile belly soon, Spring will start to wither. Wouldn’t want to be responsible for the annihilation of your entire Kingdom, would you Jayce?” Beckett hissed back. He threw his head back in mocking laughter, shaking out his golden hair. “Boys, how about we have a bit of decorum about us.” A voice breezily chirped from just beyond the clearing before the small, pixie-ish Princess of Winter glided into view. All three princes straightened themselves from their slouched positions.

He informed the prince who is still lounging on the bed behind the curtains. “Very well.” Jin Huan said as he got up from the bed, one hand pushing the curtains aside feeling the goose bumps on his skin as the cool air hit his body. Ming Xuan no longer bat an eye at the prince’s brazen behaviour not as he has done when the prince had taken up this particular frivolous ……. Habit. At that time the prince was about 15 years of age, and when poor Ming Xuan came to prepare the bath, the prince had already stepped of drawn the curtains of the canopy open. Only then Ming Xuan had realised the prince was naked. At that time he felt like his soul had left his body in shock.

The villagers did not even show respect to the prince, causing the villagers to be nervous for Cathy, but there was also admiration because Cathy was not afraid of the position the prince had. Jude bowed and apologized to the prince for Cathy's behavior. "Excuse my brother, Prince Hubert. He's really shy and doesn't talk to anyone he doesn't know," Jude said, turning to where Cathy had gone. On the other hand, Caisen just stared at where Cathy went. He knew that it was his friend and playmate when he was young. The only thing he wondered was why Cathy didn't greet Caisen when she knew him. On the other hand, Caisen also thought that because they were young, there was a chance that she had fo

I mutter, watching fresh blood trail down my leg, dribbling onto the rock. They call him the Immortal Prince. The one I think is up here, I mean. Naturally, when creatures as immortal as the pureblood's, who remain unseen to us commoner's eyes exist, legends are created. The Immortal Prince...Well, his are dark, and cruel. If I had common sense, I wouldn't be up here. Then again, if I had common sense, I wouldn't have slipped into a magical pool and turned myself mortal. “I never said I was a good person…” I hear Eyla say from the cusp of attention.

It's okay for me to have a hard time at first if in the end it will bring back too much. I admire the Prince in front of me even more now. I’m obsessed with the mindset he has. In this kind of conversation, I gradually got to know him. The Prince I only often see talk to and I thought I would never be with him for this long, now I can get discouraged. The third Son, Prince of King Valor, was kind. It is only blocked by his ruggedness and coldness.

Due to these kinds of movies, Raine somewhat accepted what Raeyan and Yris told him about this supernatural world and supernatural powers. Also, of him having supernatural powers, too. Ice, right? Raine thought when he recalled about that princess that Raeyan and Yris told him he was the incarnation of. An ice princess… he thought, then suddenly recalled a children's story about a snow queen. This princess, named ‘Alf’, should have the same powers as this snow queen. And if this princess ascends the throne, then she would really become a queen. A snow queen.

I hear the group of leprechauns in the room suck in their breath at the same time. “You took our Princes over the troll bridge? What were you thinking, Buppig.” Hazdil scolds him. “I was thinkin’ that the Princess needed to get to Eventide before our Prince made a huge mistake and married that Duchess, wasn’t I? We didn’t have time to go the long way around, did we? So we went the short way.” He says defensively and in his anger, I swear I hear a lilt of Ireland in his voice.

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.

Now it was him delivering punches at the Lycan's face, dislocating his jaw. Despite the pain in his jaws, the prince managed to speak, "You don't deserve her!" With that, he put more effort into punching the king. In an additional act of cruelty, he raised him up with his glowing hair and proceeded to bash King Kyle against the ground several times. At a point, the Lycan king got free from the hair's grasp by using his sharp claws. Following that, he made a beeline for the fatigued prince and executed one last uppercut, ultimately rendering him unconscious, while his pesky hair remained in motion.

the priest said, and his voice tightened almost imperceptibly on the word fully, “then we will seek understanding before judgment.” Before judgment. Elara’s stomach sank. That meant judgment was coming. It only had to wait its turn. A voice rose from the right side of the hall, older and controlled but loud enough to be heard. “There is nothing to understand if the prince felt no bond.” Another answered before the priest could. “The circle reacted.” “It faltered.” “That was because of her.” The words spread faster this time, passing from one cluster of wolves to the next. They were not shouting. They did not need to. Whispers could do more damage when everyone wanted to hear them.