روايات وقصص ضمن The Prince Book

After being forced to donate my blood to Zachary Doolithe, my wife Anna Lang's childhood sweetheart, I died in the small quarters that she had personally decorated for me. Before I died, my five-year-old son ran to the main quarters and begged Anna three times. The first time, he broke in and said that I was vomiting blood. Anna scoffed. "I see he's improved his ways. He's even taught our son to lie." Then she ordered the servants to take my son out. The second time, he knocked on the door and said that I was already beginning to convulse in pain. Anna tutted. "I only asked for a little blood, didn't I? It's not like I cut out his heart. Why is he pretending?” The servant stepped forw

The cavernous room is empty except for three, the king, his son, and his newest consort already exiting the room, her glittering sheer gown sweeping and reflecting on the smooth inky floor in her wake. “Anything, sir,” responds Kannax standing at the foot of the dais. “I heard about a rebel movement that was happening under my nose. Why didn’t you report that to me?” The king drops his hands on the arms of the throne, which looks to be cut out of one huge stone, raw and bland like other decorations in the room and the room itself. With a controlled voice, the prince replies slowly, “Rebel movement, sir? This is the first time I’ve heard of this.” Now only two of them remain in the throne roo

Elijah Darcey. The First Princess matched the first prince, except that she wore a dress and had no swords. Her face was elegant, with her hair pinned up in a bun. Scarlett Darcey. There wasn't much to go on with the princess, but looks can be deceiving. I didn't mention it before, but each prince and princess had black hair. The Second Prince was looked similar to Elijah, but wore white with blue and gold. He was scrawny and his fingers quite long. A book on advanced magical theory volume seven sat in front of him opened. He didn't seem to happy with my entrance. Julius Darcey.

he said. “Seriously?” I rolled my eyes. “Why did they want your autograph? What’s the prince thing about?” “It’s because I am a prince,” he said in a low voice. “What?” He shot me a look. “Do I need to repeat myself?” I just stared at him, my eyes bugging out of my head. “A prince? What does that even mean—” I cut myself off, mostly because Olivier’s glare was so hot that I had a feeling he’d strangle me if I didn’t shut up.

The prince was so pissed! "And who is she?" "Your highness, her friend need that book to get heal" "Tell me where we can find her right now!" ************ "And how could you do such silly act!" "I'm sorry, thought the prince might take the book away and we need it here. Perhaps you should praise me for being smart" "Ooh yeah, you're such a smart kid but listen the prince is looking you and as we speak they're on their way here to take you!"

Reaching the prince’s chamber, I was surprised when I saw the number of paintings which were hung over the wall of the hall, all of them seemed new, the paint showing that they were newly drawn, and whoever had drawn them was a talented person, some were of gardens, others were of wolves, but the one that caught my attention was one that looked like the riverbank we lived in back home. “Come in” was heard from inside the chamber, distracting me from the painting, the guards opened the door, revealing the prince wearing pants and a loose white shirt, he was sitting on a couch, reading through some parchment, looking lost in thought that for a second, I thought that he was unaware of me being

The Prince grabbed the sheets and sniffed it to calm his racing heart down - Fuck! It was barely two hours and he felt like everything in his body was getting drained. Prince Henkel went back to the maid for the description of the Princess's medical school and he went back to his room to pick some of his clothes. He had no idea what he was doing or what he wanted to do but all he knew was he had to see her again.

She was a Queen. This little boy, was jealous. No one could blame him. His Aunt had everything and never once tried to help him or his Mother, and his jealousy only grew when he realized she had two children, one a Prince that had the kindest smiles and tended to treat him like he wasn't a poor sewer rat and a son that... Avoided him.

She quickly broke her gaze and lowered her head. The prince briefly glanced at Leila as he walked past her; he seemingly had no intention of speaking with her. Taking a thick stack of letters in his hand from the large ironwood table by the window, he started to read the documents one by one. The prolonged silence gave Leila a small amount of confidence to peek at him again. The prince was a breathtakingly handsome young man, chiseled like a diamond. But she had never seen a more stern expression than his. He was the prince of the dragon kingdom, leader of the royal knights, and protector of King’s Harbor, after all. What could he possibly want from a girl like her?

I tasted it on my tongue — bitter and metallic. At the center of the room stood a stone altar, draped in heavy black cloth that spilled onto the floor like a pool of ink. A single book rested on top. Its cover was dark, almost oily-looking, bound with broad strips of leather and clasped at the corners with dull silver that caught the candlelight and threw it back in cold glints. Behind it stood the prince. He didn’t look at us right away. His head was bowed, one hand tracing along the book’s spine with something almost tender. Lady Senna and the armored man flanked him like twin pillars of judgment, their expressions carved from ice.