Your Brow Queen Novels & Stories

“ Ladies and gentlemen, the queen of NATEL FASHION WORLD has arrived and I will like you all to be on your feet and welcome the QUEEN!!” As he spoke, no questions was asked, everyone stood to their feet, the door was opened wide as Natash walks in, wearing a large red ball gown, design with pretty flowers, Even as she walks towards the stage, it swept her feet, it was designed by the personal designer of the queen of England. Her hair were styled updo and several flowery clip were attached to it, her makeup was perfect, bringing out her perfect pointed nose and the lashes made her look like a goddess. She was accompanied by Robert on her right and Derrick on her left, and as she walk with th

the queen asked Amaro worriedly. "Mother, it's Kashmir that is with me." Amaro raked his fingers on his hair. "What?!" the queen and Kharim both exclaimed. The queen went to the side of Kashmir, she pushed back the hair that covered her face. The queen's eyes were wide as a saucer. Although she was shocked that she saw them in a compromising position, even so, she was happy to find it was Kashmir not the maidservant Kharim was talking about.

Not by name. Not yet. By position. By presence. By the way they stand close together, uncertain, watching. Fear holds them in place. Not loud fear. Quiet fear. The kind that spreads slowly through the body until movement becomes impossible. My gaze moves to the Queen first. She stands tall despite the tension in her shoulders. Her face is composed, carefully controlled, but grief lingers beneath the surface. I see it in the tightness around her eyes. In the way her hands remain clasped too tightly before her.

They dropped to the ground light on their feet in front of all of us. Rynyxon bowed, in which case Harmon, Brandon, and I did too, even though I was just getting bored too. I could feel raw power from this couple, letting me know instantly that they were in charge, but for some reason, I was not as threatened by it. It was.... peaceful, yet strange. The queen had light brown hair and purple eyes like Rynyxon, with smile lines that framed her heart-shaped face and rosy cheeks. She wore a beautiful silver dress that clung to her body like a second skin. She looked so young, it was hard to tell if she was Rynyxon’s mother or his sister.

"Fuck. I'm so sorry." The woman with the long white hair, purple eyes, and multicolored dress narrowed her eyes at my stupid idiot brother. After what seemed like a year, she nodded. "I would not have chosen the name for myself either. But I'm queen of more than just asses and knees." Her lips quirked ever so slightly. Hollyn burst into laughter. Slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide. Then the queen did the same. Soon, everyone was laughing.

I ask. "Yeah," he responds, "she was a brunette beforehand, precisely brown." "What does it mean?" "Well," he says, moving his hand from my hair to my neck, tracing vertical lines and my stomach flops. "The first queen, Queen Imelda, was the most powerful being in our world and no one matched her power until my mother was crowned Queen and her hair changed as we but no one actually knows the true significance." His fingers running along my neck makes it hard to concentrate, so I move away and turn to face him, acting like his touch doesn't affect me.

"But before stating it drink your champagne down quickly... or else." Giving them a quick smile, the queen drained the full glass of champagne in three hearty gulps while noting how both of their eager young eyes seemed to be stuck on her chest-- giving her self-esteem a major boost. After setting the glass of champagne aside, Angie announced firmly, "As this game of ours, or R rated movie if you will, continues you naughty little monsters cannot force the queen to remove her bra--which means exactly you can't ask me to take it off, or try to take it off, in any way, shape, or manner. That is my rule and the same as yours it is non-negotiable."

Instead, I nodded, acknowledging her concerns. As I sat down by my vanity, the Queen gracefully positioned herself behind me. Her delicate hands picked up a brush, and with a gentle touch she began to style my hair and when she was done she began to apply makeup to my face. The strokes were light and precise, creating a simple yet elegant look. As she worked, the Queen spoke softly, her voice filled with encouragement. "Being Luna will not be easy, my dear," she said, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "But you were chosen for a reason. You possess a strength and grace that will guide our kingdom."

“I know you will.” Then her expression shifted—just slightly. The warmth faded, replaced by something more serious. “But that aside,” she continued, “I’ve been monitoring things.” Mirena turned to face her fully. “Monitoring?” She parroted. “Mhm hm. And I've noticed your influence has taken a dip, Queen,” Eleanor only ever called her Queen, when she was referring to business concerning her identity as the Investment Queen, the head of the Crowne Empire and Octa investment.