webnovel

Caught Between Two Worlds

All Celestine ever wanted was to be someone powerful so that she won't be looked down upon. That was what she wished on a blissful night. And that very wish made her life go downhill years later ever since she came across a sacred pendant. When an invitation lands on her lap to the most prestigious university of Adrian, nothing could stop her from going there. That is until her life gets entwined with two men, the cruellest foes of each other which she wishes to escape from. But the universe paints a different picture. On a dreary day, she falls to her near-death and finds herself in the ancient land of Vitalis. With an unintentionally committed crime to her name, she must face the justice of the place where mercy is invaluable and death is inevitable and of little value. And so her trial begins at the mercy of the tainted hands of the Masked Tyrant. Alastair Arden Waldorf. Ruthless, cold-blooded and faceless. When things turn for the worse, will she be able to return to her land and not be involved in a terrifying history? Will she save, kill or escape from the tyrant to the other two men when he shall come for her? Shall love prevail between the two or will they stick to their time to avoid an inevitable curse? ~ WARNING: Mature Content (18+) Cover Design: imagineTishaD (Webnovel) Image Credit: fromKITnoc (DeviantArt) Want to support and interact with the author? Discord: https://discord.gg/ptUDZFYcU8 Fandom: https://realmsofmagic.fandom.com/wiki/Realms_Of_Magic_Wiki Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rose.of.blues/

RoseOfBlues · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
209 Chs

~ 120: Behind The Shelves - Part 2 ~

My hand slowly touched the soft surface, moving ever so cautiously, as if my life depended on it, over it to find the trap. After knocking it hard a few times, a wooden-cased blade thudded onto the floor, making me swear for a second.

'Is that mine?' I questioned in my head, picking it up and turning it in my hand to see the initials 'D' engraved on it. 'Why did he keep it here instead of his bedroom, which would be a safe haven for such things? To investigate its origin?'

The approaching footsteps behind me reminded me to quickly hide the old-fashioned pocketknife, the one that had been passed down in my family for nearly five generations, in my skirt's pocket.

"What fell, milady?" she asked with anxiousness evident in her eyes. She appeared to be afraid to report any broken item to the king, who could slay her for such a petty thing, though I knew not what his decision would be.