webnovel

Dreamwalker's Bride

“You are the least objectionable groom of all the ones I’ve seen,” Anaisa replied seriously. “Thank you for the glowing compliment,” Trace grinned, “but that didn’t quite answer my question.” ___ Anaisa is an orphan and a pariah. In an ultimate act of betrayal, her father, a Count of the Realm, is accused of deserting and betraying the army in a time of war. Not only is he immediately executed for the offense, but the king declares he must have been a fake all along! His two daughters are stripped of their titles and inheritance, replaced by a distant cousin and cast out of their home with nothing. Anaisa swears someday she will get her title and lands back, but in the mean time, she and her sister Katia have to figure out how to survive. Trace is an anomaly among his people; instead of revealing their son as a magic user and thrusting him into the public eye, his parents kept it a secret to allow him to choose the kind of life he wanted. Trace found himself content to rest and play in his own dream world instead of invading the nighttime visions of others. As an adult, his choice to remain unknown is thrown into jeopardy when a mysterious blackmailer forces Trace to enlist in the territorial war between nations, threatening to reveal his secret if the demand is not met. With the war now over, Trace believes he can finally go home to his farm and live the simple, unremarkable life he’s always desired. When Anaisa and Trace are thrown together by a royal edict, the sisters find themselves unwittingly tangled in the web of mystery and intrigue that surrounds the blackmailer’s escalating assignments for Trace. Anaisa begins to suspect it may be connected to the plot to replace her family in the noble court. As the scheme continues to unfold, lives, loves, marriages, and magic will be put to the test to see what forces in the world are strongest.

TheOtherNoble · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
361 Chs

Healing up

Mia turned in time to watch Ford visibly flinch.

"I know it looks bad," He admitted in a strained voice.

"Looks bad?" Grandpa shook his head. "Ford, what have you done?"

The leg was angry looking, swollen and bruised. When Ford gingerly lifted his shirt with one hand to expose his ribs, Mia glimpsed purple before he gasped and let go.

"Ow…" Ford gritted his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment, then visibly relaxed and looked at them a bit sheepishly.

Mia's eyes grew round.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Well," He began, no longer seeming to feel any pain from his apparently severe injuries. "Denholm did kick me really hard in the ribs, and stomp on my leg. I've been trying to heal it, but I know very little about medicine–"

"No, what are you doing right now?" Mia pointed at him, temporarily losing her resolve to remain detached and impassive.