The Royal Treatment Novels & Stories

He was a good man and yet bad things kept happening to him no matter how hard I tried. I could feel Kian's gaze on my face. He didn't say anything and I guess it was better that way because I couldn't really imagine what he would say that would make everything better. Finally, we arrived at the hospital and I walked without stopping until I was finally in front of the doctor. He had a sad expression on his face and I battled to control myself to keep my composure. In fact, that was one of the most important things about being a royal: you would not be allowed to fall apart in front of other people no matter how severe, and act as a pillar to other people.

Mylo’s hands drew me into him from my waist as he kissed the side of my head. ‘The royals are here,’ he linked me. ‘Wait, do we have to like, bow or curtsy or something?’ I looked up at him and I swear he was trying not to laugh at me. ‘Please do,’ he said, clearly joking as he paused and pulled himself together, ‘you’ll definitely make an impression on King Wyatt, he loves grand gestures.’ When they walked in, intimidating was an understatement. I thought I was prepared… I was not. Orla was dead quiet.

I don’t have to be told that she’s a kind soul, I can already feel it. “Yes, Katrina. Serve Her Majesty’s dinner and help her freshen up for the night. I put her under your care.” Katrina bends her knee in a curtsy. “I’m honoured to serve you, Your Majesty.” She addressed me respectfully. “T-Thank you.” My voice comes out uncertain, still not used to the royal treatment. It will take a while before I can adjust to the title inferred on me. “Your clothes, jewelry and other necessary items will arrive tomorrow morning. Get some rest. I need to take care of some things.” He mentions and heads for the door, barely sparing me a glance.

"Thanks." I whispered to him. He looked down at me and beamed. "We actually made it." The crowd suddenly applauded us as we reached the bottom and the queen's voice suddenly boomed from the top. "Everyone, this is Princess Rosalie Amber Stan. A new member of the royal family. You will all treat her with the same respect as you have of us." Said the queen. Soon, the crowd suddenly acted. The royals did a curtsy while the Dukes and Duchess bowed.

A few seconds later, the trumpets played and Sir Saint opened the doors. “Presenting, the Royal Family of Wilhem.” King Ricardo was in front, wearing a plain white coat with gold linings and an elegant single-layered silver crown. Queen Josephine, who wrapped her arm on King Ricardo’s arm, was wearing a long, asymmetrical plum dress with her hair in a bun and of course, the same crown King Ricardo was wearing. Behind them, was Princess Althea and Prince Thomas. Althea was wearing a yellow pouf dress that reached her knees and she had her hair in a ponytail. Her tiara set perfectly on her head. Thomas was just as simple as his Father but he wore a long sleeve polo and a one-sided brown coat t

She pulled me into an embrace. “What are you doing—” I paused, pulled away, shook my head, and chuckled in amusement. “This is a Royal Cruise, isn’t it?” “No, honey.” “Your Royal Highness,” I addressed Prince Isodore. His smile laced with sadness before he sighed. “You’ve been through a tough time. I understand. Just don’t give up just yet.” I left them. I just followed where the way led me. “Need a room?” I paused. A smile slowly spread across my face. “I guess.”

The instant we sighted them coming to the quarter's direction in groups, Abel passed another route to the site of the banquet. "Meet me early in the morning!" he shouted. I was welcomed warmly and some of them complimented me in admiration. Some were envious and some were chatty. It was a separate room and kind of cozy. A talkative among them came into my room. She told me about the activities at the quarters. I was surprised that they still kept their status even though they were all working for the Royal family. She said the one in charge of washing any of the Prince's feet has a higher status than the one serving his food because you are regarded to touch him when washing his feet.

“The king could use his royal command voice. Since you’re his mate, it might force her out. But there’s a side effect if he does that.” My brain exploded with questions. Witches? Royal command voice? Blood rituals? Side effects? What kind? But before I could drill her further, we reached the front of the palace. A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom waited in the drive, gleaming under the winter sun like it cost more than most people’s houses. Tinted windows, custom plates, the works. Pure money on wheels. A guard in crisp uniform opened the back door with a bow. “Princess. His Majesty is already waiting at the private helipad.”

"We have the business dinner at seven. Be back with plenty of time to dress properly." "I will," Jake promised, already heading for the door. The freedom of being away from his father's watchful eye, even temporarily, lightened his step as he made his way down the corridor. The Royal was truly magnificent. Jake wandered through the grand atrium, past boutiques selling items that cost more than most people's monthly salaries, and eventually found himself near one of the smaller performance venues. A sign outside announced "Rehearsal in Progress - Staff Only," but the door was slightly ajar, and the haunting notes of a violin drifted through.

“It’s been a madhouse since Bennet…Prince Bennet crashed his racecar. Did you hear about that?” “Of course.” Even in America, it was big news when a member of a royal family almost died, especially if it was due to some daredevil sport like racing. “How is your patient?” “Maddening.” His cheerful tone belied his words. “He’s also managed to chase off the second physical therapist just this morning. That’s two in three weeks.” “Impressive.” When the Marine looked up, she gave him a smile before turning a slight bit more from him. “He sounds like a spoiled brat.”