The Princess Diarist Novelas e Histórias

She doubted whatever he did would be merciful. But she didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending to be someone she wasn’t. The consequences lurked in the back of her mind. She had been running from the truth, but sooner or later, she would have to face it. The second Lyra stepped through the den doors, the frantic energy hit. The staff was buzzing with activity, polishing, dusting, arranging. It was as if the castle was under siege by cleaning mercenaries, though it had been spotless when Lyra had left. There was a flurry of movement, and the Keeper approached.

“Their loss.” The cases in this room were smaller and more densely packed. I moved slowly along the first one, taking it all in. There were pieces of jewelry that were made of heavy, dark metal set with stones I didn’t recognize. A ceremonial knife with a handle carved from something that looked like bone. Several documents under glass, handwritten and well-preserved for their age. I spotted what looked like a journal entry from the princess. It was dated to several hundred years ago, and outlined a typical day for her.

He replies. The other three did the same, and true to their claim, their marks were glowing. I let out a crazed laugh. "No, I'm not!" "Let's see your mark then." Mosley Froskarn, the quiet one, urges me calmly. I search the archives in my brain for a response to his request. But luckily, my warrior princess steps in with an intervention. "She... She does not have one," she whispers as if her next words ought to be top-secret. "She's a Prose."

And in that moment, I knew. Not only was I done with the engagement. I was done with him. Forever. My eyes burned red, tears clawing at me, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. The bathroom door suddenly opened and Adrian came over. When he saw my eyes, he paused for a moment and asked, "My princess, why are you crying?"

she asked, toe tapping against the weathered porch boards. Damn. She got me. I had done my best to learn what I could about Tobi’s world, and yeah, I knew he was a prince. But I hadn’t really thought it through. Not all the way. “I mean… we haven’t exactly talked about that yet,” I muttered, trying to keep my composure. “A crescent moon,” Moira said, exasperated. “I guess we should start calling you Princess,” Oscar teased with a grin. Henry turned in his arms, confused. “Wait, what secret is she keeping?”

I decided it would be mutually beneficial to have a well-behaved fiancée, and so I accepted. I still remember that day. Sera was in a scarlet dress, sitting across from me like a rose with thorns. And the day she moved into my house, she turned it upside down. She splattered every room with vibrant paint, turning my house into a wild canvas of colors. Then, while I wasn't looking, she smeared lipstick on my shirt collar, setting me up to look like a fool at the board meeting. While I slept, she painted my nails a bold, cherry red.

Even after being saved by the king, she showed no signs of harboring any selfish desires. Majori was the strangest person he had ever met. But that wasn't his concern. Ryder glanced at me and gave a faint smile: "Goodbye." He turned and walked out without a backward glance, leaving the girl behind with her serene smile. ... The sedative acted quickly—royal-quality medication was indeed effective. I mused, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. I didn't want to fall asleep so soon. If only I had tried bargaining with the doctor earlier.

I screamed happily, took a deep breath, and turned the final page of his entry. “Recently, I feel something disturbing around the castle. It began with Princess's visit. I don't trust her as Immara does. Even yesterday I saw…” the entry suddenly stopped there leaving the sentence unfinished. I turned to the next page, but it was blank. I turned back to those last written words, and noticed tiny piece of paper stuck between the middle of the sewed pages. It clearly looked like one or more pages were torn out from the diary, as someone did it on purpose.

Just when it seems like we are about to come to blows, Sasha's scent begins to swirl within the room. Luis steps away, and I straighten my suit jacket. I look towards the doorway just in time to see my gorgeous princess enter. My eyes travel over her form hungrily. She looks like a walking moonbeam. The dress she is wearing is opal white and trails down to the floor. The V-neck is deep but covered in mesh. So while it gives me a great view of her chest, it is still modest. Her beautiful hair is in a low messy but controlled bun and her makeup isn't too thick. I am so glad I told her to dress fancy. She looks as if she is going to a human prom.

It was all her fault, all her fault for kissing the princess. Kaia's death would not be forgotten, she would get revenge on Icran and soon. She dismissed the servants and moved to sit on the balcony, with a notebook and quill. She dipped her quill in ink and began scribbling on the page. Wasting the day, she wrote down every idea, every important name and place that could factor into her plan. Once the sun climbed into the middle of the afternoon, she gazed into the garden to find Aynyra strolling through the well-manicured bushes. She wore a thick gown with a large winter coat and delicate gloves to protect her from the new freezing winds. The snow would soon fall, merely weeks away.