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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

Writing To The Ton.

Morning.

Male Employed Quarters, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

"I see, you are all up already" Conan pointed out when he reached the twins place and they were outside just leisurely watching the area.

"Sir Conan" the acknowledged with smiles.

"Yes, your presence is needed in the…Oh just follow me" Conan.

Gabriel jumped down the fronts of the quarters, his neat clothes making Conan smile before he turned.

"Are we in trouble?" Gabriel.

Conan was already heading back his back to them. "It depends on your definition of trouble" he said simply.

"What does that even mean?" Tom whispered to Gabriel, he is in a big pants, one that is struggling to stay in the confines he had created with the rope on his waist.