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Reborn From Ashes: The King's Ruthless Queen

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 756    |    Released on: Today at 17:45

ng, the devil

She had sent the maids to the kitchen. The house was

rrived at ten

er ear agains

th, professional. "The King has been r

She could imagine him leaning

The position of Undersecretary is yours.

. "Thank you. Please convey my e

rary retreat at the Royal Lodge. A small, private affair. He was quite taken wi

le

enney wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what "literary retreat" meant. He

e wavering. "She... she is of de

se," Sterling said. His tone dropped the temperature in the room by ten deg

ape of a chair. K

e words came out fast, like he wanted to get t

ing, hearing him sell her for a desk and a t

sat on the sofa and picked up her embroidery

later, Ken

w her, his face crumpled into a mask of tragic d

apsing onto the ottoman at

rom her needlework.

clerical error. The King... he is furious. He t

hands. His pa

d, tears welling in his eyes. "He has summ

er eyes, feigning s

ou read to him, if you entertain him... he might forgive me.

sing Emi

ace to hide her expression. He thought sh

" she wh

you do this, I will buy you the real

ds. She let him see

aid. "I will

. He hugged her. She sat rigid in his ar

wife," he murm

ght, sh

nervous. "Madam, the Lodge... pe

alk, Sophie

ns. She was packing silk. She was p

a biography of Adella Lynn, unauthorized and scandalous. She had sent Sophie to a

s. Adella had a way of tilting he

mirror. She tilted her hea

heroine. She looked like

the glass, "Imogene Lloyd is dea

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Reborn From Ashes: The King's Ruthless Queen
Reborn From Ashes: The King's Ruthless Queen
“The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black. Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn. I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek. "Let go!" he shrieked. I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed. But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib. I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story. "A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder. I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows.”