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The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
496 Chs

The traces of one's beloved (M)

It was so big…

His bed I mean. Like...the one in the tower was big too, but it was a normal big, a queen-size big. But the one in the castle's bedroom was BIG big. Like I could lie down in whatever position and roll around and all without falling. Like I need to make a journey just to get out of bed.

Also, this one had a canopy, a big one, with curtains in velvet red.

So scandalous.

But it also felt sooo nice. The mattress was perfect, and everything from the sheet to the pillows and blanket had Natha's scent. Rather, the whole bedroom had his scent.

More than the bedroom in the tower, his manaprints were everywhere; the bed, the huge bathroom, the drawing room, the armrest and the chaise lounge, the small dining table...

His scent and presence lingered everywhere, seeping into every tile and wall through decades of repeated movements.