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Reborn From Ashes: The King's Ruthless Queen

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 657    |    Released on: Today at 17:45

fortress of stone and timber, hidden deep

ree hours. Her legs were stiff

here was cleaner, sharper, s

rling said, exten

n she looked at the ground.

Mr. Sterling

He looked impressed, or perh

rophies. Stags with glassy eyes, bear skins rug on th

s," Sterling said, passing her off to a s

p a winding staircase to the second fl

," she said. "Bathing water has be

ing ears. She stumbled back from the door, her hand flying to her throat as if in terror. Only when the foots

to look a

ful. And it w

dspread was embroidered with irises.

s a s

la Lynn. Lilac was her col

vited a mistress; he

l of perfume sat there. She uncorked it

ane," she

ed her efficiently, scrubbed her with scented

brought was dee

t perfectly. Not a s

had the best tailors in the world, or Adell

ited. The sun began to set, casti

d of hooves thund

t to th

erent here. In the ballroom, he was a statue. Here, he was alive. His cheek

ed. He l

t at he

in the frame, a dark silhou

e impact of his gaze. He stood there for a long moment

e heavy fron

s on the stair

mmer. This was it. Th

e picked up a book of poetry. She

stopped outs

cked. The ha

or swu

smelled of horse and leather and winter air. His eyes were

Lloyd,"

was low,

p from the book.

sty," she

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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.”