brokkr.netThese weren't ghostly whispers of wisdom; they were a rowdy peanut gallery of former queens who lived inside her head. When Julian offered her a hand to help her onto her horse, Elara would snap, "I have legs, Julian, use yours to walk away."
Elara’s pride flared. "Hate it? I find the prospect of our marriage about as exciting as watching bread mold." 1 : The Tsundere, the Prince, and the Voices of...
The breaking point came during the Royal Ball. Julian, looking unfairly handsome in midnight blue, cornered her onto the balcony. "Elara," he sighed, "why do you treat me like a common cold? If you hate the match, just say so." These weren't ghostly whispers of wisdom; they were
Elara turned crimson. "My... my seamstress. She’s very loud. In my head. I mean—I’m tired!" These weren't ghostly whispers of wisdom