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Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual

"I have waited for you in all of my lives, Gooseberry, and in all of them you had left. Please stay in this one," he pleaded, his eyes locked with hers. "I wish to stay too, My Lord Husband, because you are forever, Theodore," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. In a world where Lydia Statham, an illegitimate girl shunned as an abomination, is confined to her noble-born family’s estate, her only escape comes through books and stories of the outside world. But destiny intervenes when she receives an invitation to a bridal pick banquet at one of Critic Arley’s grandest mansions. What was supposed to be a chance for a new beginning soon becomes a solitary encounter with Lord Theodore, a feared outcast and enemy of the Empire. Lord Theodore, of royal blood but without a surname, has never desired a wife, and the idea of cohabiting with a woman seems unfathomable. Yet, at the banquet thrown by Conan, where every young lady was invited, only Lydia appears. Now, Theodore must confront his deepest reservations as he navigates the ritualistic demands and unearths feelings he never anticipated. In a tale of forbidden desires and unspoken promises, every season, every day, and forever, Theodore's life will revolve around the ritual that is Lydia—his chosen, his fate. No one came but her. His Gooseberry. ************** "Call me Lordess Theodore" "I am Lordess Theodore and I am his favourite ritual" Dear Critic. Do you wish to https://buymeacoffee.com/nanafirdausi Discourse with me on discord @i_nanafirdausi Cover photo is mine.

I_Nana_Firdausi · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
294 Chs

The couple's first kiss.

Lydia's heart did a small, joyful dance as she sat up straight and saw him near the mirror.

"You do?" Her voice came out more brightly than she'd anticipated.

"Come here," he said, his expression neutral. She sweetly obeyed, stepping closer.

Standing in front of the mirror, she watched him as he faced it. He whispered, "Turn around."

He held out a small jewel wrapped in a delicate rope. It was a beautiful, almost bluish-white gem, nearly transparent, with light reflecting softly off its surface. The rope crisscrossed over it gracefully, enhancing its aesthetic appeal. Lydia instantly recognized it as the magical jewel he had bought the day they met at the fair. But this one looked different—more elegant, almost like an imitation rather than the original. 

Lydia frowned slightly but shook her head and waited.