Marigold Stories Novels & Stories

A private meeting reserved for special people only… “Everything is going on as planned,” Devin informed his three accomplices rubbing his hands gleefully. “I’ve received another mail from the two lovebirds and they still not willing to get back!” Nash smiled indulgently. “Let them enjoy. They’ve well deserved the holidays after the ordeal you have put them through.” Devin chuckled wickedly. “You’re right. Nash, I think we’d better start planning a second marriage. What do you think of Kyra Hart, Rachel’s best friend?”

They won't forget me, never! One and a half years of marriage. It could not be bad. But the thing was Grace's reaction. I was so sure she would end up hating me for lying to her. Would she understand it was an arranged marriage? But the damage of lying in the first place was unforgivable. My hand was searching in my pocket, just like the dress had a pocket. Grateful that I was not easily tempted to taste again something I should not get addicted to. It won't help me in this situation.

“But…let’s put her to bed first, okay?” “Sounds good to me,” Jackson says, giving me a squeeze. Then together we lean forward to Goldie, telling her the story of the Mystery Hunk that we make up as we go, doing our best to make it make sense alongside the pictures and failing pretty astoundingly. But Marigold doesn’t care, laughing softly at us before her eyes slip shut and her cheek rests softly against the pillow, falling quickly asleep, her little hand flat on the open pages of the tabloid.

Days, Months, and Years passed by. Things were not as smooth as they seemed to be. The level of worries for Anjana was increasing day by day. And one day something happened that she was never ready to accept it. While she was cleaning old things from the bed box, she found some greeting cards with some romantic notes on them. However, she already knew that Amreet was having a girlfriend before marriage, but, that hardly made her worried much because it was all before her marriage. but, one day when she opened his f******k account, she found that both of them has chatted together even after their marriage. This made her very much agitated.

And with each knot that is tied, Evander and I are bonded closer and closer to one another. We watch as his family comes one by one, and then the coven, to gift us with their ribbons and their joy. Marigold was one of the last to approach, making sure to catch my eye as she encourages us to “Grab all the happiness you can,” with the warning, “You never know what tomorrow will bring, so live this life without regrets.” I nod, appreciating her wisdom, and she smiles, tying her knots with care before leaving with the other guests to blend into the shadows.

“Talk to me.” I folded my hands together. “When I was little, Mara used to tell me stories. Not the ones about the Moon Goddess everyone told their children. Different ones. About spirits that didn’t belong to the sky or the earth. About bargains made in blood and memory.” Lucas went still. “She said they weren’t evil,” I continued. “Just hungry. And that the worst ones didn’t force their way in. They waited to be invited.” Lucas exhaled slowly. “And you think—”

She shuddered at the thought. “Why the expression?” asked Prince Joseph. Bella didn’t answer. She thought that if she could, she would stay there and learn medicines and even poison from Prince Joseph. He was considered to be one of the most gifted medicine men of the century and even a highly praise alchemist. But in order to gain his favor she will have to get the marigold flower for him. The marigold is considered to be one of the most toxic plant ever in existence. Because of its ability to bring the dead back to life, whomever is near it, the flower will suck out their life and energy waiting to store someone else’s life. Whom, no one ever knows either.

somebody asked, which made everyone giggle. “No way. If they did, she wouldn’t be walking properly,” another added. In a chorus of laughter, I felt my cheeks darken with barely contained anger. “But for real, it’s being wasted on Scheur,” Margo, a maid I barely interacted with, said. I knew she had a few relationships with other werewolves, never shying from her sexual escapades and retelling stories. “Yeah, if it was me, I wouldn’t only try to date him but use him to better my life. He is rich—use him and raise your power,” she added, which wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t interested in him at all. I had no interest in being with a man like King Baldwin.

"What about these tulips—got any stories behind them?" She picks up a yellow one, holding it out. "These are my favorites. They remind me of spring back home, starting fresh. Want a closer look at the rest?" I nod quickly, and she comes around the counter, leading me to another display. As we move, our arms brush—accidental, but it sends that little buzz again. She points out different ones, explaining colors and meanings, and I ask questions to keep her talking. She opens up a bit more about settling into the city, how the shop's her way of making roots. I share a story about wandering the markets as a kid, skipping the royal parts, and she chuckles at the funny bits, her eyes lighting up.