The Royal Treatment Novels & Stories

The other men were enjoying this. Little did they know this might be the last 4D show that they will be seeing? “What are you talking about?” Richard asked looking as nervous as a prostitute in church. “I mean we are royals after all. Let me ask you something. When going to visit royalty how are you supposed to address them? You know just a tip for the future references.” I said nonchalantly. I tilted my head “To bow and only address by title.” he answered. He is so stupid. He is not even seeing through my scheme.

The makeups must be expensive,it just meeting Queen Dowager,I don't know what will happen when they were to meet the king They are just too….. I saw everyone bow so I followed. From what I learned,you bow when you meet a Royalty and don't maintain eye contact with them,so I lowered my gaze. "You are all here,welcome to the palace," A soft voice said calmly. I almost raised my head. It took me effort not to. "I will inspect you,and I need you to tell me your names." The voice instructed. I smelt a refreshing flowery scent hit my nose and I can't help but inhale.

"Evolution seems to be the watchword of this administration." I felt Christian tense beside me, though his expression remained pleasantly neutral. Before the conversation could deteriorate further, the door opened to admit palace staff bearing a tea service that would have impressed anyone who wasn't determined to find fault. Delicate porcelain painted with the royal crest, silver so polished it gleamed like water, tiered trays of perfectly crafted pastries and finger sandwiches—it was a display of restrained opulence that should have delighted even my mother's critical eye. "Will you pour, Lola?" Christian asked, his voice gentle.

But beneath the veneer of calm, there was a subtle tension in her posture, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. The Royal Entreaty was not just a ritual but it was a defining moment in the kingdom’s history. The men who stood before her knew this as well. Among them were not only the highborn and wealthy but also commoners who had risen to prominence through their skill, bravery, or wisdom. For the first time, the court had opened its doors to all men of merit, regardless of birth—a gesture that carried great significance in the eyes of the people.

But with a hot and fiery kiss, of course. With the dancing session over, it was time for sharing a royal meal and with table was set and indicated, I guided Sabrina to ours, pulled a chair for her, before I settled next to her. It was a huge mahogany table, round in shape, with red roses occupying almost three-quarters of the top. How funny? It was time for a meal! Not s banquet show. But again, the royals were twisted in the way that they did things.. They were the hardest to deal with.

We’d eaten at the same restaurants and bought the same brands of clothes. Immediately, we’d become like friends, and they treated me much more informally than the maids of the other girls, for which I was infinitely grateful. “I hope the newscasters are saying good things…” I started. “Wonderful things! They are praising the royal family for making such progressive moves. They can’t believe they are letting the princes have so much screen time. Traditionally, only the King and Queen ever made announcements.” I nodded. I knew that, but she was so excited, I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to take away from her joy.

The writing was beautifully slanted, the hand of someone who had a great deal to say and a finite amount of patience to say it. 'On the matter of address: all members of the royal family are to be greeted with a full bow or curtsy, held for a count of three, eyes downward. To meet the eyes of a senior royal before being acknowledged is considered an act of presumption. To speak before being spoken to at high table is considered an act of disrespect. To sit before the senior ranking wolf at the table has taken their seat is considered an act of-' I turned the page.

Nick glanced at me and smiled. "It's obviously because they thought you are one of the Royals." He chuckled with a gleeful smile. "The Royals?" I furrowed my eyebrows curiously and stopped when we reached my locker. "They are the sons and daughters of the richest politicians and businessmen studying in Kingsley. The school is providing them special treatment: a glamorous lounge room exclusive only for their circle of friends," he said as if it was the most normal thing. The discreet room I accidentally saw last time, it was probably the lounge room for The Royals.

AT MY PLACE. Yes_you_suck YAY! PARTY! Will_the_devil SORRY TO BURST YOUR BUBBLE, BUT, ROYAL WEDDINGS CAN TAKE PLACE ONLY AT THE PALACE. Cereal_killer ... I_love_my_mommy ... Yes_you_suck ... I_pooped ... THAT'S EVEN BETTER ISN'T IT? Cereal_killer YASS! WE GET TO SEE THE PALACE AND TASTE THE RICH PEOPLE FOOD. Yes_you_suck

His fingers wrapped around my throat, tilting my head up and forcing me to look into his eyes. “You filthy creature. You're not entitled to look at me or speak to me in this manner,” he gritted out, his face impossibly closer to mine. My heart twisted painfully, and I forced myself to hold back tears. “Why? Are you a Royal?” I managed to ask. His grip tightened. He cocked his head. His gaze blazing. “Yes. I am a Royal and you will address me as Prince Damian Emilio.”