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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
294 Chs

The Last Picnic.

Last day of the month.

Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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Theodore Mansion was busy today. Beyond the perfectly manicured lawns lay a picturesque lagoon, its water shimmering under the pale winter sun. It was here, next to the lagoon, that the three maids of the mansion were busy setting up for an afternoon of leisure for Lord and Lady Theodore. On Theodore's instructions days ago that he'd planned with the maids.

Mathilda, the newest maid, moved with an air of cautious enthusiasm, eager to prove herself. She carried a rolled-up mat, its rich, crimson fabric embroidered with golden threads, creating intricate patterns that seemed to dance in the light. As she approached the designated spot, she paused to admire the serene beauty of the lagoon, the water reflecting the azure sky and bare branches of winter trees.