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Faking Love To Save The General

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 757    |    Released on: Today at 15:46

off the thin

r. The thick wool rug was

t collapsed. She crashed into the mahogany vanity, her ha

to the brass-

s. No hollowed-out cheeks from starvation. Just th

ed the smooth line of her neck, pressin

Thump

rong. It

. Her eyes burned. A single, hot tear slipped dow

stomach violen

, the rotting flesh, the metallic tang of

y-heaved. Her throat spasmed pain

the palms of her hands. She p

er. It forced the PTSD-induced pani

k. K

d against the heavy oak d

ooked exactly as she had five years ago-young, vibran

t on the rug. She quickly set the heavy basin do

your death of cold," Agn

. Before she could stop herself, she threw

stic display of affection from her usually reserved mistre

g breath. She forced her mus

l her voice. She nee

voice slightly hoarse. "W

the silk bedsheets. She clearly recited the year an

ered in Eulah's brain, her

ory tore through her mi

y Lord Daryl Langley, the Kingdom's God o

the day he wou

he Royal Palace to report his victories. He survived, but

ischer and the King began their systemati

y military force in the entire kingdo

would be holding the ultimate trump

ck against the wall

o enter the palace in

s holding out to her. Noblewomen's clothing was designed to restr

ns until she found an old, unadorned riding habit from years ago-the si

ck. "Miss! What are you doing

ked open a drawer and grab

ere completely devoid of warmth. They wer

ice cracking like a whip. "Cover for me. D

ng authority radiating from the young

open the heavy glass French

inging to the stone exterior of the ma

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Faking Love To Save The General
Faking Love To Save The General
“For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer. He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else. When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg. Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death. As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career. I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived. I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance. Then, I opened my eyes. I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self. Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled-the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power. I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage. "I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig." I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.”