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You Think I Won't Talk?

Elizabeth, a girl with an unusual personality is reincarnated into the body of a mute woman in what appeared to be medieval times. However, the people surrounding her seemed familiar. She had transmigrated as the dead villainess's older sister in a +19-rated novel she read long ago in her past life. Marianne, the previous owner of the body, had a tragic past. Abused by his obsessed older brother and little sister, the part of her soul left in the body doesn't give Elizabeth freedom. Now she will discover the truth behind Marianne's condition, experience unknown feelings, and recall her past to overcome these new difficulties. 'I'm gonna go crazy...how is it that this girl didn't even have her name mentioned in the novel?... some authors really are idiots...' _________________________________ Give some love to my other book too ^^~ • Barbaric Spouse, Descry the Night's Lure * To find my book you have to either search the title or my pen name. It will not show on my profile. _________________________________ TAGS: #R18 #SlowPaced, #Romance, #Smut, #Medieval, #Trauma, #Father&Daughter... (Sigh... so many tags... do emphasise #SlowPaced ^^) _________________________________ This is an original Story ^^ Author: XimenoideX

XimenoideX · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
592 Chs

Chapter 340

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Newfound intensity resting in the narrow glare of the Crown Prince watched over the crowd he had finally found Marianne in.

Desperation had already thrown him to search for the woman in a place where her scent

easily dissipated by the many inundating the street, and her silent existence made it more difficult to trace her whereabouts.

His skill sharpened the more time passed by without finding sight of a hair of hers, yet she could not be found as much as Zeleskiaz searched for he is still human to dissolve the power of an evil one misleading his skill. Nevertheless, the deity's spirit that was not by Marianne's direct side had not truly disappeared to neglect his protegee. Instead, so the blood he could not extract by his claws could be taken, Fenrir went to that one whose soul synchronised the best with his thirst.

— Brat… take the blood… of that who endangers the child… khkhkhh… —