The False Prince Novels & Stories

The Southlands priest once prophesied that the Duke of Winslet's house would produce a Saintess who could command every beast alive. I'd hidden the golden serpent mark on my wrist since childhood, but my cousin, Rose Winslet, flaunted a poisonous snake coiled around hers every day. When the marriage decree came, she got exactly what she wanted: the Crown Prince. I was given to the Seventh Prince instead, a man with two ruined legs whom the entire court despised. For six years after that, I trained hawks to carry messages and drove wolves through enemy lines, and it was my hands that put him on the throne. The day he was crowned, I told him, overjoyed, that I was the true beast-commandin

The tenth year since I accidentally landed in modern-day America, and the system finally noticed me—a glitch in its timeline. It told me that in three days, I'd be sent back to where I truly belonged. Back to London. Back to my era. And I—I used to be one of the most powerful men in the entire British Empire. Alexander William Windsor. First in line to the British throne. The system gave me seventy-two hours. A countdown to say goodbye to this century. Day one, my fiancée Evelyn told me our wedding had to be called off. Because Ryan—the boy she'd grown up with—had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Day two, Evelyn brought Ryan home. To our home. She said he had nowhere else to go. Asked

Alexander’s eyes twitched, and he said coldly, “Do you know what you’re saying, Wolf King? If Her Majesty herself is not qualified to determine the rules for the ascension of Flandom’s new king, are you saying that an outsider like you is?” The onlookers nodded in agreement at his words and looked at Andrius to see how he would respond. “Why? Because she’s not Queen Margerina of Flandom at all. She’s a fake!” Andrius spoke with certainty and mockery. “What? The queen on the stage is fake?” “How can that be? She looks exactly like Her Majesty!” “Is the Wolf King confused?” “Whether or not he is, since he dares to say this, it’s probably not groundless!”

She hadn’t forgotten, only learned to accept she would never be that girl again, who was once happy with her mother and lived on the mountain expecting nothing. “A makeover, a veil, and a dress will surely bring out the real you. No one will recognize the King if his hair is let down. You shall go to the Gilded Lily tonight, and while you are there, you shall listen. Find out what he truly wants with this marriage alliance, after which, you come back.” “I’m not doing it.” “This is not your decision to make, Amias. There is no choice,” “It’s been years since I dressed like a woman, I refuse to wear a dress and become Azubah again.”

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”

A prince who walked out of today’s session furious. A prince whose silence meant something dangerous. Good. Let them fear me. Fear made men honest, if only briefly. I moved deeper into the ballroom, crossing beneath archways wrapped in fresh flowers and past fountains overflowing with roses dyed to match the royal colours. Ice sculptures shaped like mythical beasts glittered in the candlelight, shallow attempts at opulence in a kingdom struggling to hide its own decay. Servants hurried past carrying trays heavy with delicacies imported from neighboring lands, lands pretending they weren’t watching Eldenwald’s drought with morbid curiosity.

The king touched it all with trembling hands. "These are some parts of Prince Zalari's burnt body. What Adam kept as evidence, we have Prince's likeness. He is a normal person from another world. This is the dress that belongs to this boy.” Raga bowed his head and told the truth. Alian’s worn old pant shirt was lying on the table in front of him; the king looked at it coldly. He was sent to Sultanate Renam to find out all this, but he gave them false news and instilled hope in them, and now when they thought everything was fine, he came to know the truth.

"This, this is..." Sensing this terrifying aura, everyone was stunned. What was that? Who's that! However, when they took a closer look, they were all stunned. Because they saw clearly that it was not a man, but the prince! The prince was here! However, the prince was still the same as before, looking like a child. There was nothing he could do about it. Although Prime Minister tried his best to resurrect the prince and bring him back to this world, the prime minister was caught before he could do it perfectly!

Such boldness I thought getting furious, he is my man bitch stay far away. We came into the ballroom and his date strode out to the ladies, I walked to the lady's myself "She doesn't even deserve to be here, " a voice said "A low life trying to get what's not hers "another voice whispered "Did you see her throwing herself at the men, it's so obvious she came from the slum and is a worthless slut " "I bet she's stylishly giving them the idea she wanted to get fucked so badly by them " "She better watches her step because the prince. Is mine "

Confused as well I asked, "Ain't you dating Hunter?" She tried maintaining a straight face but it only lasted for a few seconds before she began laughing. "What? I'm dating Hunter? Where? When? How?" I think I just embarrassed myself in the biggest way possible. Translation Aftí eínai to κορίτσι του πρίγκιπα --- She's the Prince's girl Moiázei me tous dýo týpous tous ---- She doesn't look like their type of girl.