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The Impostor Arrives
Last Updated:
2025-07-01 19:29:43
Latest chapter
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake The Fallout Of A Lie
Twelve hours. That is all it took. Twelve hours after Princess Aretha's tearful interview, the world was no longer whispering, it was roaring. "A 20-year-old doctor controlled an elite military unit?" "Did the Northern District aid in illegal detentions?" "Was Country L hiding a tyrant behind surgical gloves?"The hashtags transformed from curiosity to condemnation: #NorthernDistrictScandal#HumanRightsOrHysteria#DoctorOrDictator#CountryLExplainBy morning, international headlines blared the same accusation: “Medical Miracle or Military Monster?” – WNN Global News. “Vespas Princess Accuses Country L’s Northern Army of Harboring a Tyrant” – Regal Digest “Healer Turned Enforcer? The Enigma of Arla-Rosa Winters” – The Axis JournalEven neutral states were drawn in. Members of the International Civilian Protection Council (ICPC) issued a cautious press statement: “If claims of military-enabled psychiatric abuse are verified, this would constitute a direct violation of the Global Ethic
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake Pearls And Poison
The ballroom in Vespas shimmered under a ceiling of blown-glass chandeliers and imported moonlight crystals. Every camera focused on one woman: Princess Aretha of Vespas. Or at least, that was what the headlines called her.She smiled softly, sitting in the center of the throne hall as a royal aide dabbed powder on her cheeks. The media was eating from her hand, gentle tears, delicate silks, the occasional hand on her chest when the word “family” was mentioned.But inside? She was burning. Because no matter how many designer gowns she wore, no matter how many charity galas she attended, the world was not talking about her. It was talking about Arla-Rosa.Aretha scrolled through the trending tags with shaking fingers. #DukeOfSecrets#WhoIsTheMother#LavenderTruth#TheWomanWhoHealsHer lip curled. They were calling her elegant, stoic, brilliant. They were admiring her silence, her discipline, her surgical genius. Aretha wanted to scream. That woman had always walked around like she was
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake The Man Who Watched in Silence
The footage had no sound. Just frames and timestamps and sterile lighting. Cedric Fleming, Duke of Halewyn, sat alone in the viewing room of House Fleming’s private security wing, the glow of the monitor reflecting in his storm-gray eyes.He had watched the surgery three times already. And he still could not look away. There she was, unflinching, steady, clinical. Dr. Arla-Rosa. The woman who bore his children. The woman he had driven away. The woman the world now called a thief, an opportunist, a seductress who had tricked a Duke. But she did not move like someone burdened by shame. She moved like a woman who had already survived death.He watched her pause over the boy’s chest, two fingers pressed to the neck, her brows slightly furrowed. Her gaze was like a blade, sharp enough to split certainty from assumption. She did not flinch, not even when the boy’s vitals spiked into danger.Others around her looked panicked. Distracted. But Arla-Rosa… she adjusted her grip, murmured instruc
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake The Woman Who Did Not Flinch
The emergency lights flickered once as the surgical team prepped the theatre. A low buzz of tension filled the air, the kind that usually came before a press conference, not a surgery. But this was not a usual case.A boy, six years old, had been rushed in from a military base two towns over. His vitals were erratic, his lungs spasming without a known trigger, and there were whispers of poison exposure, possibly spiritual in origin. His records were incomplete. The base medic had simply said: “The child’s lungs are collapsing. But not from trauma. It’s like his qi’s being siphoned.”Western medicine had not helped. The hospital's top pulmonologist had refused to proceed, citing “insufficient pathology clarity.” The neurologist had walked out, muttering about “nerve anomalies that make no scientific sense.”So they called her. Dr. Arla-Rosa Lunaria Hernandez. Chief of Emergency Interdisciplinary Response. Head of Integrated Healing. And the woman currently being crucified online for a
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake When Did This Happen?
On the most active social media platform, a compelling article written By Sylvette DuMarais, Society Columnist for The Capitol Echo, was making a buzz. She wrote with such prowess that it garnered a lot of attention:"There are few things more sacred in our capital than the silence of nobility. Not out of secrecy, no. But out of tradition, what is not spoken is often more powerful than what is declared. This is especially true of the Duke of Halewyn, Cedric Fleming, who, until two days ago, was the crown jewel of discretion.And yet....The photo now circulating across every major network, of the Duke mid-laugh, his coat rumpled, a child in his arms, has shattered that pristine image in a way no scandal ever could. For the first time in recorded history, Cedric Fleming appears… human, warm happy and paternal.The children, twins, by all appearances, are impossibly charming. The girl, with her lilac-stained cheeks and cascade of dark curls, has a mischief in her eyes that makes even the
The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake The Cold Shoulder
The garden at House Fleming was too green, too warm, too full of laughter. Countess Mirabel de Argent disliked all three.She stepped from the waiting car with the grace of a woman who had learned long ago that posture was power, her silken gloves pristine, her perfume as sharp and sweet as her smile. Her wide-brimmed hat shielded her from the afternoon sun, though nothing could shield her from the sting of what she’d heard just this morning: The Duke was planning a wedding.Her Duke. Mirabel’s jaw tightened as she walked past the fountain. The sound of splashing water grated on her nerves. She had not been officially invited, but that had never stopped her before. House Fleming was practically her second home, or had been, once.In the courtyard beyond, she could already hear the laughter. She rounded the corner, heels tapping on the polished stones, and paused. There they were.Duchess Evelyn Fleming, seated on a garden bench beneath the lilac canopy, her silver hair pinned in a fla
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