The Prisoner's Throne Pdf Novels & Stories

Amerie opened her eyes and was greeted with a view of the blue sky, sending her in deep thought. Even if she went back to the past, the facts that happened in the present don't change. The duke's heir is still the rightful prince to the throne and Keres is just a half-blood on the empress' side. The truth is not revealed yet but Amerie dreaded for the day that it will be known. If Amerie knew for certain about Keres, he would try to kill the Duke to fully claim the throne. 'It will surely end with a disaster; I'll have to stop it somehow.' Amerie said to herself, sighing.

Nonetheless, the bright full moon at the sky served enough to illuminate the grounds and other objects inside from the open windows. Likewise, the figure of a lady seated on an extravagant, intricately chiseled and decorated throne glows bright as two tall windows flash light on her like converging spotlights. The rear of her fingers altogether supported her tilted head while her other arm rests at her lap. Few meters away from her, a young man stands still, staring directly at her, awaiting the movement she will take. It is Tristan, that child she has been watching over since the first day of their meeting.

Taking the keys out of his pocket he unlocked her handcuffs. In the throne room, the queen sat on her mighty throne while her court stood on either side of her. The priest stood the closest to her on the right side of her throne. "Bring her in!" A nobleman shouted. The heavy golden doors of the throne room opened to reveal four guards wheeling in a human-sized cage. Willow stood in that cage with hands and legs shackled to the bars. The guards set the cage on the floor in the center of the room before silently leaving.

Royalty's POV I walked into the kitchen then turned and went down the stairs to the underground prisons. I walked along the corridors the stopped outside a cell and the man inside looked up. His intense eyes instantly bored into me and his dark hair was a mess. He was chained to the wall and was sitting on a chair. "What brings the princess down here?" he asked softly "Jennifer." I answered "She's here?" "Yes." "Mind letting me go so I can beat the shit out of her?" "Not yet. Stay here a little longer. I'll let you out soon."

Anrina was strapped tightly to the interrogation chair. "Leon! I was the one who helped you take the throne! You can't do this to me!" Leon crouched in front of her and slowly flipped open the diary, holding each page up for her to see. "You helped me? "You stole her achievements. And you got her, and my child was killed." Anrina instantly collapsed to her knees, smashing her forehead against the floor as she begged for mercy. Leon leaned against the wall and watched in silence, his face completely unreadable.

“You’re not free agents. Someone ordered this.” Nothing. His lips stay sealed. But the tension in his shoulders betrays him. He’s holding something back. Clinton tries a different angle. “Do you think starving them will prove anything? Nightshade isn’t planning a coup. They’re isolated, alliless, and no threat to the throne.” The prisoner barks a humorless laugh and finally turns his head, meeting Clinton’s stare dead-on. “You think this is about loyalty to the throne?” His voice is low, mocking—and uneasy.

Malachi stepped beside me his black mantle snapping in the wind as his fingers locked back into mine. "They built seven cages " I whispered, my starless eye reflecting the void, between dimensions. "Then we'll use their bars to build the throne " Malachi replied. The celestial enforcers had tried to align the North to their blueprint. They had forgotten that a realm that has survived the vacuum of the Seventh Seal cannot be broken by geometry.

A gilded holding cell for an asset whose value had become uncertain enough to require careful management rather than genuine trust. Marcus sat now at the small desk they'd provided, staring at a blank sheet of paper he'd been meaning to fill with something useful for the better part of an hour, his mind circling instead through the same exhausting calculations that had occupied him every night since arriving at this place. Six weeks now. Six weeks of borrowed time, extended shelter, and the growing, unmistakable sense that his usefulness to whoever actually ran this operation was approaching its expiration. A knock at the door—two sharp raps, the particular rhythm he'd learned belonged to To

The title was calligraphed in white in contrast to the magical blue forest background. Myth of The Broken Throne....sounds nice. I turned to leave but Ms, Brendon held one of my arms. Her gaze was so intense that it made me want to shrink under the table. She then smiled at me and held both my hands, the book sandwiched between our hold. "It's my favorite book. So, I really hope you'll like it." Her wrinkly hands gave mine a little squeeze and suddenly I felt that those words had a whole lot other meaning than they seemed to. _____________________________________

“The queen knew something else too.” The council leader leaned slightly forward. Interested. “What?” Ardan’s voice dropped lower. “She knew the council would try to break the seal.” The council leader’s smile faded slightly. Ardan looked straight at me again. “That’s why she created the throne.” My stomach twisted. “What throne?” Ardan’s voice grew stronger despite his injuries. “The throne of wolves isn’t power.” He pointed weakly toward the Devourer. “It’s a prison.” The words slammed into the clearing.