Y/N is just a normal, peasant girl, so how did she end up in this place, serving under the King's cruel command? Well, it's simple, really. She just wants her family to be safe even if it means putting up with his insane personality, but how long wi...
And, so, here we are again, in this mess of agony and pain, to the deranged king and poor girl from the farm only looking to escape. Welcome, loyal subjects. You've been waiting on this one, but the wait is over now. It is time we continue this tragic tale, but first, a few words.
To start, a thanks for being so patient, for being so loyal as to stick with me until the editing was done. I am so lucky to have so many followers interested in my work. Thank you.
Second, seeing as it's been a while, perhaps it'd be in your best interest to have another read of past chapters to remind yourself before going back into it? They've all been fixed, and I hope you'll like their new look. It took a lot of time and effort to make them so pristine. I would appreciate it if you were to take the time to enjoy them. Of course, you might be too excited to wait. Fair enough. Continue onwards if you'd prefer.
Third, as a reminder, I am still editing other books, and because of this, updates might come slow for a time, but at least they're coming at all.
Do not ask me to update chapters.
Another reminder, all stories are made up as they go. If it is not continuing, I simply have no content to give out. This book especially has been notorious for askers. Henceforth, all comments asking for updates will receive a cheeky smile, but never a chapter:
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In the dark of night, a figure drenched in sweat laid in the bed of his lost love, distressed and curled up. Though already sealed shut, his eyes squeezed tighter, as though a dagger had been plunged into his gut, while his breaths came out short and quick. It was another dream, another nightmare to prey on his brain, but this time, it was different, for instead of the usual reliving of the tortures he had faced as a child, something far stranger happened to Noah in his slumber. Cold blue bore into olive as Noah stood as still as a statue, back straight and chin up, as he had been taught early on by his father. Those eyes, damned eyes of which he swore the devil would even bow before. He wished to look away from them, to run from that hungry grin and cower like a frightened child, but such actions would only result in punishment. And, from those dastardly lips leaked the most confusing poison,
