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The Loneliest Ballad

“You must bear a child, Celia. what good is a woman who isn’t a mother? What good is an empty womb?” “Especially when it’s a foreign womb, like yours…” It’s not an easy life when you’re watched month after month, when all the blame is placed at your feet for your young husband having no heir. Celia Devon Tralhamir, Crown Princess of Havietten, waits every month with hope mingled with fear. A child will secure her future. But it will also bind her for life to a husband she neither loves or respects, who refuses to see her abilities. Is that what she wants? Is she content to prioritise security over happiness, and be a wordless decorative vessel all her life? Or is she brave enough to try to forge her own path and seize fulfilment on her own terms? Even in a society that cannot recognise individual brilliance in a mere woman. A sequel to the WEBNOVEL book “Earning the Love of a Princess”, this novel follows another woman born into the Royal House of Devon, trying to fight the confines that threaten to stifle her happiness.

Gabrielle_Johnson_6482 · Sejarah
Peringkat tidak cukup
217 Chs

Flashback: Blessed

Celia had been escorted back to the bridal chamber after the wedding feast. Once there, her maids had tugged off her coronet, veil and cumbersome dress. A far thinner gown, more like a chemise, and matching robe were tugged onto her body.

The dress and robe were made from a pale diaphanous gauze, clinging to her skin. Celia felt her face turn beet red and she wrapped the robe around her as tightly as she could.

The eldest of her maids dabbed jasmine oil in Celia's hair and on her throat. "You're very pretty, Your Highness. I'm sure you'll arouse the prince's passion the moment he sees you."

The other maids giggled at the bawdy talk.

Celia clenched her jaw, fearing her nerves might make her sick to her stomach. How was she even expected to find her way to Tobin's apartments when she'd never been there before? She wasn't going to have to roam the palace looking for it, while only wearing such flimsy robes, was she?

Was she?