The Ruined Heiress's Deal With The Regent

Chapter 2

Word Count: 939 | Released on: 17/06/2026

was a fragile,

ons. Sloane felt the inferno recede, banking into manageable embers. Her heart slowed to

casing his organs halted its advance. A slow, spreading warmth seeped into him, agonizingly t

ng vision saw was the face of

tion. Strands of dark hair clung to her sweat-sh

anddaughter, Aethelgard's most notori

look in his eyes as they fixed on her was pure, undiluted hatred. She'd seen that look before-on prisoners who realized they'd been captured by the enemy. Fury, yes, but

ace. The face beneath her resolved into a clear identity: chis

The Prince Rege

. The man who had publicly declared he would rather marr

ffirming rhythm, gave a hard, sickening lurch.

ut she had just invited

ould speak, the night's

h of boots on dry leaves. The bo

re you out here?

et, a perfect imitation

the curse. This wasn't a r

scene in stark, unforgiving shades of orange and b

wild. His velvet tunic was open, her hand resting on his bare chest where she had so

guards, followed by scandalized whispers. Eyes fell upon h

nd flying to her mouth in a f

ered, her voice carrying to every corne

trap: the poison, the thug, the public shaming. Lydia had

ow growl of pure fury rumbled in his chest, but he couldn't yet co

d Sloane's arms with rough, punishing grips

asp, but it held the unmistakable edge o

e. She glided towards Sloane, face a

ead. "I know you have your... ways, sister. But

s supposed to be Jed Tucker or some faceless commoner; the Prin

ng calm settling over her. No panic, no fear. Only the chi

, Damian got to his feet. He was unsteady, but his height and the sheer force of hi

"Imagine, what would your perfect fiancé say i

d. It was a small, s

nt face to the towering, silent figure now s

e a razor. "Lydia, dear cousin. Take a good look. Do you rec

barb. She turned, her eyes flick

n she s

zen, murderous stare

n Lydia's face didn't j

Chapter End

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The Ruined Heiress's Deal With The Regent

Alfred History

“Elara carried a dormant second self-Sloane, forged from a year of border warfare after cousin Lydia sold her into slavery. Rescued and amnesiac, Elara forgot it all-until Lydia's poison shattered her gentle host, unleashing the soldier. But she barely had time to reclaim her dark instincts before a grimy groundskeeper lunged at her in the dark woods. Her sweet, smiling cousin Lydia hadn't just poisoned her with the deadly Scarlet Heat toxin. Lydia had paid this man to defile her, wanting Elara's reputation completely annihilated before the poison finally stopped her heart. As the agonizing heat threatened to cook Sloane's brain, Lydia burst into the clearing with a crowd of royal guards and exquisitely dressed nobles. "Oh, Elara! How could you? With a common servant. Have you no shame?" Lydia played the horrified sister perfectly, weeping and screaming about Elara's unimaginable depravity. In the eyes of the disgusted onlookers, Elara's already-tarnished reputation was dead and buried. She was meant to die an agonizing death as a ruined pariah, while Lydia stepped over her corpse to take her place as the Prince Regent's fiancée. It was a flawless, vicious trap designed to destroy a helpless noble girl. But Lydia didn't know that the soul inside Elara's body was a battle-hardened soldier. And she certainly didn't know that the "common servant" Sloane had just desperately kissed to survive the poison wasn't the groundskeeper. The crowd's whispers died instantly as the man in the shadows stepped forward, his glacial eyes sweeping over them. It was Damian Sinclair, the terrifying Prince Regent himself, whom Lydia had just accused of being a lowly servant engaged in filth. Sloane crossed her arms, a cold, mocking smile touching her lips as she watched her cousin collapse in terror. The real show was just beginning.”