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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
418 Chs

The cave in

Ford groaned and lifted a hand to his head. It was pitch black around him. Where was he?

He shivered in the darkness. His hand hit his helmet. The candle there was extinguished, and cold. He was wet. The subtle sound of dripping water was the only thing within his hearing.

The air was close, and when he tried to sit up he realized one of his legs was trapped.

Don't panic. That was the most important thing. Panicking used air, and he had no way of knowing how much was in the pocket he occupied. He should be praising the powers that be that he was in a pocket at all. It could have been his whole body that was crushed, and not just his leg.

"Hello?" He coughed and choked on the breath it took to make the sound, impeding his ability to listen for a reply. When he finally was able to get enough control to breathe evenly again, he lay still in the quiet darkness.