Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex's Comatose Uncle

Chapter 6

Word Count: 771 | Released on: Today at 22:28

he estate, there was a

without a word, her face an impassive mask. She carried a silver tray. On it sat a crystal gob

d, her voice devoid of all emotion. "The draught will help His Grace's bod

smallest mercy. Seraphina felt a hot flush of shame creep up

istress Kettl

as she unrolled the scroll. It was a detailed anatomical chart of the male body, with specific points

morizing every line, every instruction. This was not abou

feverish skin. Taking a deep breath to steady the frantic beating of her heart, she

oil lamp turned down low. The air sm

his face were softened. He was brutally handsome, she realized with a strange sense of detachm

s her h

goblet heavy in her hand. This was the final thres

k, Lady Philippa's contemptuous gaze. They thought they had broken her, trappe

olve ha

she tilted the goblet, letting the viscous liquid trickle into his mouth. She

change. A faint flush appeared on his pale skin. His

ght was

took one last, shuddering b

e experience was a blur of shame and physical discomfort. His body was unresponsive, a dead w

r nails digging into the fine linen of the bedsheet

f his hand twitch against the mattress. A tiny, spasmodic movement. She

as o

psed onto the rug, curling into a tight ball, her body shaking with

ided, leaving behind a hollow empti

s exactly as he had been, his expressio

to his chin, smoothing the sheets, eras

close to his ear, and wh

gave me a name and a home. I will g

agged her exhausted body back to her ow

Chapter End

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Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex's Comatose Uncle

Er Ye History

“On my wedding day, my carriage was delayed by a funeral procession for the legendary war hero, Duke Alistair Beaumont. When I finally arrived at the grand estate, I was coldly dismissed to the bridal suite, only to find my fiancé, Damien, tangled in the sheets with my stepsister, Isolde. "Must you really marry her?" she purred. Damien laughed, promising to annul our marriage once he secured his dead uncle's inheritance. He boasted that he would throw me away and marry Isolde, who was already pregnant with his child. When I set the room on fire to expose their scandalous affair to the entire manor, Damien's mother didn't punish them. Instead, she glared at me, blaming my "poor upbringing" for driving her son into another woman's arms. They expected me to swallow the humiliation, cancel the wedding, and quietly accept my ruined reputation. I had fought my way out of an abusive home only to be thrown into a gilded cage with prettier wolves. Why should I be the sacrificial lamb for their disgusting affair? Why should I let them steal my dignity? I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, I put on a black mourning dress, walked straight into the family chapel, and married Duke Alistair's memorial plaque. By exploiting a loophole in the marriage contract, I became the Dowager Duchess-their superior. And when my "dead" husband was suddenly brought back breathing but comatose, I made a ruthless deal with the matriarch. I would bear his heir, take over the estate, and make everyone who humiliated me kneel.”