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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 · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
294 Chs

Second Lifetime, Freya. (7)

Seconoria.

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The grand dining hall of Seconoria Castle was a vision of elegance, with its high vaulted ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, and long, polished tables adorned with the finest silverware and crystal goblets. Yet, despite the grandeur surrounding her, Princess Freya felt a profound sense of loneliness and misery as she sat across from her betrothed, Prince Holland of Drakovia.

The prince, a tall and handsome figure, was the third son of King Reinhardt. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his attire was immaculate, but his demeanor was far from what Freya had expected. He was silent, too silent, and his eyes, though strikingly blue, held a distant, almost haunted look. It was as if he were trapped in his own world of sorrow, barely acknowledging her presence.