His Highness , Her Headache

His Highness , Her Headache

His Highness , Her Headache

she's a sugar-laced sarcasm in stilettos; He's charm wrapped in arrogance. Raised in places on opposite sides of map, taught to smile for show. She got a tiara sharp enough to slice Egos, and He got a smirk that starts Wars ( and ends peace talk). But FATE, a messy little monarch with a wicked sense of humour. A world were crowns comes before every damn thing ! To the woman who is both thunder and lullaby— unapologetically wild, impossibly soft.

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