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Hating Her King

Hating Her King

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Chapter 1 Prologue 1

Word Count: 1831    |    Released on: 12/11/2024

Her Duke - First: Hating Her King

e 1

ues of pink and gold cast across the sky, giving a sense of serenity and peace. It was the most beautiful sight. Perhaps the

rs would not stop tingling. She watched as the gentle evening breeze troubled the tiny grasses while the leaves of the big trees danced to it, mocking it. She felt the tingle again and recogn

e keys were under her fingers, obeying her every command. There was no piano to play now but the excitement remained, rooting from ano

ed so. Beth had done it and had promised it was beautiful. As there was the possibility that she might be called into the Marble Room later on, to see and know her future groom; an

trot

d a be

xt Viscount. Although Gwen had been confused, she had accepted her family's decision and when Beth had acquired a portrait

de to undergo a series of lessons as she would be making her debut in a few months. Gwen had been excluded from most of the classes her sister had been made to attend, but although mother had assigned her to some, they wer

as smiling, but sh

eks. The family was happy and although Beth was happy for her, still she

riage wheels. With a sigh, she inspected the yard to confirm that their guests were truly yet to

weeks, her sister would be eighteen and when the London season came, she would make her debut

y prepared to debut into society? She paused. They couldn't have. Mother said it was made when she was nothing but a baby, and said someday it would all make sense. She ho

ken, she heard movements. Gwen thrilled. They had come, they had finally come! With haste, she raced a

equal status on which hung a flag. The flag was engraved with an emblem like Gwen had never seen before – a crowned

rate show. They must be a p

ay, waiting to meet their guests. Gwen remained fixed to the window, waiting as well for the passengers to alight, curious to k

s of average build, hardly tall, but tall enough to shame a dwarf, or so it was from where she stood. He had greying hair on his head, and chin of equall

oped to see. The man shared a short handshake with her father and waited for her brother, Eric, to bow to him, befo

. Her groom had come! she thought. He was not as young as she was, possibly as old as Beth or a bit older, but young still, tall enough for his supposed age, and equally r

her did she want to. Her future husband had come, and although there was not enough time to scrutinize him perfectly, he was

howing off a man who knew the authority and security of his status in the society.

rely. How great was the man she was meant to love? Gwen questioned, rolling about in her bed cover. Love? What

r. With her eyes stationed on the ceiling, she soliloquized. In a matter of years, she would be married and made to run her home as a Viscountess, she intended to be steadfast a

parties knowing her betrothed waited for her. He would dance the night away with her and she would feel safe in his arms

her head with nonsense and thoughts that should not be. Thoughts their mother would never approve of. Gwen wished the piano was still in

immense happiness float out of her fingers into joyous melodies.

th, she should

. She enjoyed physical work, no matter how unproductive, she enjoyed it, but at the moment, she was bursting with excitement and needed to contain it. She couldn't run around the Manor or wa

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