Oberyn Martell Daughters Novels & Stories

I was having none of it. “There are certainly many people in the world, with golden hairs more glittering and eye catching than mine, and more sparkling green and blue eyes. Tell me Varaeys, does that mean they are Venegan descendants?” I balanced my chin on my palms. He looked speechless as if pondering my words. “Princess Myrcella of Burrow kingdom, has bright blue eyes, and blonde hair. Are you sayimg she's a Venegan descendants? Mind you her father had blonde hair, and silvery eyes her mother has blue eyes, and dark hark.” I continued, pointing out.

Urgh “I never thought she would get married. Not because she's blind,but you know she's…special.” I look at the newlyweds that Ingrid is whispering about and I can't lie,the last person I expected to get married was her. Melune Viremont. Second daughter of lord Tharion Viremont and lady Elira Viremont. The house of diplomacy and divine scholarship. Priesthood in political cloth. “Do you think they fell in love or it was arranged?”

They were: Luke Dean Asterion — eldest son of Duke Asterion. Kyra Sein Asterion — daughter of Duke Asterion. Tristan Henry Chalde — eldest son of Marquis Chalde. Penelope Violet Chalde — daughter of Marquis Chalde. Neil Soren Stockholm — son of Marquis Stockholm. Christina Faith Stockholm — daughter of Marquis Stockholm. Leo Winchester — nephew of the empire Archmage bright winchester. --- While applause echoed throughout the Grand Hall, not everyone celebrated. Among the audience sat three students whose eyes burned with envy.

Warm even in the dark. I belonged with Ronan. Not because the mark made me property. Because I had chosen him with every broken, frightened, stubborn part of myself. If Tobias wanted me, he would have to understand that. I was not entering Emberfall empty. I was not arriving as a lost princess waiting to be placed where men thought I fit. I was Elaine’s daughter. Ronan’s mate. Seraphina’s vessel. My own person, even if I was still learning how to stand inside all those truths without shaking.

“Maren Vaelorin.” “And the father?” Dax stepped forward and his voice carried across the ring the way it always carried, steady and deep. “Maren Vaelorin. Daughter of Blackthorn. Sister of Cael.” The silence that followed was thick and warm and every wolf in the ring heard the name Cael and the wolves who knew the story bowed their heads and the wolves who didn’t looked at the ones who did and the understanding moved through the gathering like a wave. The elder nodded and looked down at the baby in her arms. Maren was staring up at the elder’s face with her dark eyes wide and her fists loosened for once. The elder was quiet for a long time, studying the baby the way healers study wounds, rea

Kael filed his feelings about his father's methods and focused on the tactical reality. "You said you found something else while asking about Orvane," he said. "Something beyond Elara's testimony about household accounts." "Yes." Mira's expression shifted slightly. "There's a woman named Lyssa. She worked in Orvane's household for six years before she left. She was a tutor for Orvane's son." "What's Orvane's son's name?" "Davrin. He's nineteen now. The designated heir to Westmarch." "Why did Lyssa leave?"

“You know the rules, right?” “Hmm?” I muttered as I stopped chewing and looked at her. My eyebrows raised, looking confused at her. She tapped my lap. “The Daughters are for the Chosen Templars. The daughters are always meant to marry only the hunters of the Order of the Orion.” I swallowed the food I was eating before it choked me. “Grandma,” I cleared my throat. “You didn’t need to remind me,” I wondered why she suddenly opened the topic. “Cole is my homework, nothing else.”

His destined companion had died at his hands; no one remembers why, and all the other women who gave birth to his children died prematurely. Of the ten children he had, during the almost two millennia, only five had the chance to form a family and have children. Still, all of them, except his grandson Typhon, ended up dying in skirmishes with werewolves or at the behest of Mordred by disobedience or inability to carry out the acts he ordered. The other five never started a family and were all women. 4 of them, the first to born, died before they turned 100, and no one knew why. Of all the daughters, the youngest of all, Mordred, was kept alive and locked in her room. No one knows her real ag

he said. The sphere brightened, and an image began to form, two young women standing side by side in their academy robes. One had moonlight hair and calm eyes full of curiosity. The other’s gaze burned like fire behind her sharp smile. “Selene Emberlain,” the Headmaster said quietly, “and Melinda D’Carys, your mother’s dearest friend, and her greatest rival.” Seraphine watched, her pulse quickening. “Melinda was born from the same bloodline as Selene, the Emberlain lineage. Their ancestors were one of the oldest in Aetherborn, a family tied to the AetherCurrents themselves. Both girls showed extraordinary talent from childhood, but there was always one difference.”

Then Dantley he tried to remain gentle and knelt before his mother, saying, "Mother I beg you, tell me where Erlyn is. " "Is that girl so important, Young Master, that you have to do this?" asked a golden-haired girl who had been sitting beside Ariel. She was Crystal and seemed to have always been mesmerized by Marteen from the start. "Who are you?" Dantley turned to Crystal as if he did not like it when someone interrupted him. "Marteen, this girl is Steven's daughter and you shouldn't...." Dantley stood up and looked at his mother with an upset look.