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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 · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
294 Chs

Relief And Blood.

Night.

Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

****************

"Theodore, where are you?" Lydia whispered to herself a question.

The night had draped its velvet cloak over the sprawling grounds of the dark Theodore mansion. It is shrouding everything in an eerie stillness, emotions excluded.

Lydia stood on the front steps bathed in the silvery glow of the moon. She is dressed in her nightgown, her figure a solitary silhouette by the moon against the grand mansion.

Everyone had left for their rooms before she had slipped out of hers to come to wait for Theodore out of worry from the sudden gloominess she felt earlier.

Her husband, the lord of Critic Arley, had yet to return home, and the late hour only added to her growing sense of unease.