Novel & Cerita Why Is It Forbidden To Touch The Crown Prince

Their bodies were tense, their faces devoid of expression. Celene released my arm. “Take a seat there,” she said quietly, gesturing to a spot three places down from her, far enough to feel insignificant, close enough to be closely observed. I slid into the chair, eyes cast down, hands neatly folded in my lap. Don't draw attention. Don't embarrass her. Don’t even breathe wrong. I concentrated on my plate. The room buzzed once more, voices rising in volume. A guard announced loudly near the entrance: “Presenting His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Damon Valen of Velmere.”

Would I have to do much? Erik’s stifled laughter brought me out of my impressed stupor. I glared, and then noticed all eyes were on me. I stood straighter. Everyone was staring because an insubordinate—a human no less—had managed to strike me, the Crown Prince, and get away without so much as a scratch. I knew some would grow suspicious as to her status because of that. Usually, assaulting a Royal was considered treason and a punishable offense of the highest degree. ‘What are you waiting for? You are the Crown Prince, they have no right to stare! It’s our business!’

“Clear the way! Crown Prince approaching! Make way immediately!” Irene’s hand clamped around Zayla’s wrist like iron. She yanked her into a narrow, shadowed alley lined with quiet houses, the noise of the festival fading behind them. “Why are we hiding?” Zayla whispered urgently. “Shh!” Irene pressed a finger to her lips. “The Crown Prince is passing through. Everyone must kneel when he goes by… or face the consequences.” Zayla frowned. “Who forces people to kneel just for passing by? Even Lord Asher doesn’t pull that stunt.”

Marjorie understood the reason, and when he remained silent, she added, "His Majesty is in his prime and there's no talk of choosing a crown prince. The palace is full of concubines, so the number of princes will only grow. "If another prince emerges, wiser and more capable than Prince Connor, won't His Majesty take that into consideration? Right now, His Majesty refuses to discuss the position of crown prince, and I'm sure you know the reason for that better than I do. But one thing is certain—Prince Connor is mediocre and His Majesty looks down on him." Malcolm furrowed his brow, wanting to argue, but there was nothing he could say. In the end, he simply responded, "If we anger His Majesty

I turned to look at them and they kept quiet. "This isn't the time to fight," I intervened in their staring competition. "Put some respect on the name, it's not Aethelfrith, it's Crown prince Aethelfrith, hope am clear," Leon said, I could feel the anger around him, "you should know the rules of this Realm, for example being in the Crown princess room isn't allowed," Leon spat. "Leon that's enough, you shouldn't speak in that way," I said to Leon, "and Tyramon, if you aren't going to support then just leave," I said to Tyramon and walked to the mirror.

His jaw unhinges. “No.” Prince Ismir says and the hall freezes. Surely he couldn’t have been talking to us... I look over to see him pin Darin with a glare, causing the man to pale. “None of you will touch her other than the royal family. I told you, she’s special.” “Apologies my prince.” He hurries to say and even in the horrible situation, my mind races. The blood has drained from his face and he looks deathly afraid of raising the prince’s ire. Why? Just how powerful is the prince?

He sprang back to where we had come from earlier. "Ms. Anthea's barrier has gone stronger. After you know, I got out." I said. I looked at them first. "You can't wear that in this world. The normans will think that you're a bunch of crazy role players. Also, I know I'm not in the place to say this, but you can't act as a royalty . In the mortal world, there's no Prince or Princess. Just an ordinary human being. " I said. they looked at each other.

"You were not given a clearance to touch my female. If your fingers cross her perimeter again, I will sever them from your hand before you can blink." Julian clutched his bruised wrist against his chest, his face turning a volatile, bloodless white as he stared up into my midnight-black irises. The pristine, untouchable Crown Prince was completely gone, replaced by a desperate, frantic male whose winter-mint musk was drenched in the sour stench of raw copper and liquid panic. But as he looked past my shoulder at Veda, the panic curdled into a reckless, unhinged hostility.

As long as he isn't in agreement, we can't give you the crown, and none of us wants to risk a war with the King to give you the crown," I heard Olsen's voice in my head. He shouldn't be able to do that because we do not belong to the same pack unless this was his unique ability. Linking people that he wasn't connected to. I looked at him, and he maintained eye contact briefly before sitting down. "Well, as for the crown, I am still not convinced. You need to do a lot more than a snack and drink to convince me to agree to give you the crown. Your prince status is not verified either. The only reason you are getting this much respect is that you are hosting the event," Frederick said, sounding

"That's the tragedy of your life, Damian. Not mine." I straightened my shoulders. "This is the last time we have this conversation. Stay away from me. Stay away from Sebastian. Our packs have a diplomatic relationship. For the sake of our elders, we can see each other at official gatherings. Once or twice a year. That's it." "If you cross that line again—if you or your wolves come near me or mine—I will end our alliance. And I will make sure every pack in the North knows why." He reached for me one last time. His hand stopped mid-air.