ログインWaking up with boobs, beauty, and deadly lightning powers wasn’t on Abby’s bingo card—but then again, neither was dying of a terminal illness and reincarnating as a bullied noblewoman in a magical kingdom. Now Lady Abby MacMayer has one goal: live loud, live free, and never be a victim again. With a sword in one hand and sarcasm in the other, she shocks the realm—literally—and catches the eye of the kingdom’s most powerful and brooding mage, Duke Alaric. He’s duty. She’s chaos. He trains her to control her power. She ruins his peace of mind. The sparks? Not just magical. But when a war brews, a dungeon rift opens, and a prophecy threatens the man she loves, Abby vanishes in battle… only to return years later with no memory and no magic. Everyone believes she’s lost. Only the queen knows she remembers everything—and is hiding the truth to protect Alaric from a fate worse than heartbreak. Lightning may strike twice... but love? Love will burn through time, lies, and destiny itself.
もっと見るIt was high noon at the Royal Palace. The sun was out. The guards were bored. Abby (me, the actual knight) was halfway through sword training in the yard, tossing lightning bolts at training dummies and trying not to vaporize my instructor again. When suddenly—BOOM—something exploded near the front gates.It was… purple?Everyone turned.And there she was. Standing proudly atop a wooden apple cart she had commandeered, wrapped in glittering violet robes five sizes too big, with at least eleven glowing artifacts around her neck — one of which was literally a tea kettle she thought was cursed."BEHOLD!" she screeched like a goose possessed, “I, Lady Algebra MacMayer, have RETURNED!”Silence.A hawk cawed.Some servant dropped a pie.One of the palace guards coughed.Then she threw down a smoke bomb… that immediately blew upward into her face and blinded herself."ACK! WHY IS IT—WHERE’S THE SMOKE?!” she shrieked, stumbling off the cart and landing face-first into a basket of turnips.I w
Later that nightI was in the library, my sanctuary of chaos, flipping through spellbooks and sharpening the dagger I kept in my boot, when the door creaked open.Damian stepped inside. His coat was half-buttoned. His eyes, dark.“Couldn’t sleep?”“Couldn’t stop thinking about you charging into that Rift like a wrathful goddess.”I snorted. “I had a point to prove.”He approached me, something unreadable flickering behind his stormy gaze. “And what point was that?”“That I’m not afraid anymore. Not of monsters. Not of court. Not even of my father.”Damian stood in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint bruises along his neck from battle.“You forgot something,” he murmured.“Oh? What’s that?”He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “Not afraid of falling for me either.”I rolled my eyes. “Try again, Romeo. I’ve just survived orcs, curses, and nobles. You think one charming prince can rattle me?”He grinned. “One can hope.”*****MacMayer Mansion Throne HallThat afternoon I w
“I don’t know yet,” I said honestly, trying not to meet his eyes. “But maybe.”Thunder cracked again. He didn’t press.We walked the rest of the way in tense silence, and when we reached the edge of the Rift, I looked back one last time.“Next time,” I muttered, “we bring more firepower.”“I thought you were the firepower.”“I am. But I like backup.”When we finally emerged from the Rift’s edge, the rain had started to fall again, soft at first, then heavier, as if the sky itself wept in exhaustion. The guards stationed near the camp were stunned at our return, their eyes widening at the state of us—soaked, burnt, bloodied, but victorious.Sort of.I handed the golden flower to our healer and told her to guard it with her life. Damian collapsed onto a bench, his hair soaked and crown slipping slightly. I joined him, still buzzing with residual lightning under my skin.“I don’t know about you,” I said, “but I’m eating three whole chickens when we get back.”“You’ll share?”“Hell no.”H
The deeper we went, the more corrupted they became—monsters that had no names, with too many eyes and flesh that shimmered between forms. Abominations birthed from the rift itself. The deeper we went, the hotter the air grew, charged with the scent of brimstone and decay. Stones floated mid-air, defying gravity. Rivers ran backward.And still, the mana stones glittered all around us, embedded in the rocks like pulsing hearts—blues, reds, purples, each humming with stolen power. Damian broke a few free, stuffing them into his satchel.“They’re reacting,” I breathed.“To your magic,” he said. “To you.”Then it came.The beast of the rift.It erupted from beneath a collapsed ridge—a monstrous thing of molten scales, serpentine and massive, its horns scraping the jagged cliffside. Its eyes burned bright as twin suns, and in its chest, a glowing lump—a magic stone the size of a knight’s shield—pulsed like a heartbeat.It opened its jaws and roared.My legs nearly gave out. It sounded like
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