Bloody Duchess Novels & Stories

“Going once, going twice sol-” “ A thousand grams!” A voice interrupted, earning gasps from the crowd. I swallowed the invisible saliva clinging to my tongue as my eyes searched desperately for who would want to risk that kind of amount on a cursed woman. “That’s ridiculous for a demon, a thousand-“ “She is a Nymph!” A man dressed in a cotehardie and black boots with a feather hat that almost covered his face strode forward. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the devilish beauty underneath the hat. “A thousand and she’s mine,” he blurted, holding the gaze of the man who stood beside me.

"Want to see something? Come here and open this box." I got up quietly and went to that box. The thought of what would be inside that box made my heart restless. I extended one hand and opened it within the next breath. A dead body, covered from head to foot with new white linen, was lying under the box. He slid his hands and removed the linen. Her clothes were like that of a royal queen with bloodstains over them. There was grief on her face. And a broken bangle tied around her hand with sharp edges. One end of the bangle pierced her vein, and the blood fell off. Her skin seemed colder.

His fingers tapped lightly against the surface of the desk as though weighing something carefully. “So, you are trying to say that she truly is… clean?” Helena nodded firmly. “At least, from what I have seen, yes. In fact…” “In fact…?!” Hugh echoed, suspicion thick in his voice. Helena looked at him as though weighing her next words carefully. Then, in a quieter yet firm tone, she continued, “The Duchess may actually be a victim.” Hugh frowned. “A victim?!”

The girl nodded silently, then got up to show where the bodies of Duke Andrew and James were. Both Valencia and Cale couldn't hold back their tears when they saw the corpses of Duke Andrew and James that were next to each other. Both were valiant war heroes, but they suffered a grievous death due to the incompetence of the kingdom they defended. Ariana looked at the two with bloodshot eyes. At least if she can't cry, people who are close to her can do that for her. Ariana closed her eyes, as the sound of Valencia and Cale's cries broke the silence that surrounded them.

"Time to pay for your sins." Pure rage flooded through her system. How dare this bastard - whoever he was - put his hands on her? She was The Duchess. She couldn't let anyone take control of her body or her life. She threw her head back hard, trying to hit his nose or mouth, but he anticipated the move again and pulled his head aside. Her struggles were becoming more desperate now, and real fear began to seep through her anger. "Such spirit," her attacker murmured. "I've always liked that about you, Val. Even when you were married to that fat pig, you never completely broke."

The duchess said as she set the few volumes of books on the table. Seeing that Romeo at least looked a little better at what he heard, the duchess sighed in relief. She knew that Romeo was not just loathing himself right now for drinking his own wife's blood, but he was also thinking about what he would do now that his wife's blood was no longer pure. He must have been agonising over the fact that Dacria and anywhere else in this empire was no longer safe for his wife now that she had been bitten.

Damian grew thin, the madness in his eyes deepening. The long rituals had taken their toll on both of us. Rumors began to spread through the lands. They said the duchy was cursed by a demon. They said you could hear a woman's screams and strange chanting on the wind. Until the day the Royal Guard suddenly surrounded the manor. "By order of His Majesty the King, we are searching the ducal estate!" I knew it was over. When the captain of the guard saw the blood-soaked altar in the cellar, when they saw Liana's body, long dead, everyone recoiled in horror.

she was a daughter that could not be shown in public. Duke Everdale hated such weak willed women. It reminded him too much of his dead duchess that he had married out of a political alliance and since she was unable to survive in the highly ferocious household she succumbed to a disease and died after childbirth. Layla was a mirroring image of the duchess. Since the news of an upcoming war had spread far and wide, Karl and Leon had returned to the duchy to discuss the matters of millitary with Damien Everdale.

My best friend and I. A witch and a Fae from Whisperwood. I have the blood of a Seer. My three rune bones can see a kingdom's rise and fall. She's a gold-touched Fae. Born to attract wealth. One roll of the dice in a goblin casino, and she'd empty their vault. When we were eighteen, we found a disgraced Grand Duke in the capital's slums. His stepmother had thrown him out. We saved him. She amassed his gold. I spun his fate. We helped him claw his way back to the capital. He took back his land. His scepter. The first thing he did? He asked my best friend to marry him. They had a son. A gifted heir. I grew tired of the noble squabbles. I went back to my hidden cottage in the woods. Ten years l

She wants the dagger. Before I can shove her off, the grand window at the end of the landing shatters inward. Glass rains down like deadly diamonds as two massive rogues hurl themselves through the frame. Their fur is matted and grey, but it’s their eyes that make my breath catch—glowing crimson, dilated and mad, swirling with the dark, violet mist of witch-taint. “Behind me!” Miss Ophelia roars. She steps squarely in front of us, raising the heavy cast-iron skillet.