Spare Me Great Lord Mga Nobela at Kwento

"You're Jason Leigh, right? Human resources informed me that you're only a high school graduate. Do you really understand all this?" "I used to be a mercenary," I corrected him in a calm but clear voice. Tony was taken aback, but he quickly laughed out loud. His laugh was so loud that it echoed throughout the workshop. The people standing next to him laughed along. "What's a mercenary doing here as a stockkeeper? Who would believe you, Leigh?"

“Your Majesty, the realm is yours now. May your reign be long and your mercy endless.” His tone was perfect. Too perfect. Cassian’s warning echoed again. Trust no one. As the priest lifted the crown, I felt the entire hall hold its breath. He set the metal upon my head, his voice ringing clear: “Behold Serina Valcrest, chosen by grace, crowned by will, ruler of the realm reborn.” The hall erupted in applause. But I saw who didn’t clap. Miriel. And half the lords from the northern trade houses are the same who’d funded the Prophet’s uprising.

I'd gone to his study to surprise him, only to find him bent over the design schematics for our rings. The original "Amor Aeternus" was crossed out. Replaced by that new line of Latin: Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. My sin, my greatest sin. Five years. The guilt had never left him. Her shadow still loomed over everything between us. "Isabella?" the priest prompted gently. I lifted my head and looked out at the crowd. My father, Don Rossi, his eyes filled with expectation. The Moretti council, sitting ramrod straight, waiting for the answer that would end a decades-long war between our two families.

The streets of Milan blurred past, a collage of cobblestone, gold lighting, and people pretending not to look at us as we passed. I used to love this city. The way it made beauty feel like currency. The way everything here demanded attention. The language. The pace. Now it felt like a stage I couldn’t step off. --- “You’re going to be brilliant,” Godric said, breaking the silence. I didn’t respond. He glanced over. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?” “For what?” “For resurrecting you.” My jaw tightened. “I never died.” “Not officially,” he murmured. “But close enough.”

I say with a straight face, looking at it closely he seemed nonchalant and I couldn't bare to stand him any seconds from now. " You say?" he replies with his gaze fixated on me, dropping all things in his hands. Oh Now he can look. I muttered. " Yeah, I came here to tell you how grateful I am and of course return the money you gave to me ". This statement made his jaw drop briefly, I could see it. " Money? Didn't you say that you needed it for your mother's treatment?". " Yes I really needed it but I had a sponsor who paid for all treatment in full even before I got there"

I opened the window a little to let some of it out, then crossed to the door. My hand was on the handle when the knock came. Three hard knocks. I froze. A voice spoke from the other side. “Luna Malia. The Alpha’s order is finished. You are free to leave your room and move about the mansion again.” I stared at the door. The guard was still talking. “Do you need anything before I leave my post?” My chance is finally here.

"You are in Anceps now. Do not worry, this place is sacred by protection spell, so any magical creature will not harm you, if you are afraid of them." "Who the hell says that I am afraid of some messed-up rabbits? Or whatever, I am not afraid of anything, okay?" he snarled at her and kept trying to sit up while leaning on his elbows. "I am the Lord of Life! "But it looks like the Lord of Life is suffering from broken bones and you really broke the poor Moriah's hips. Chu-hh, so bad," she made a sympathetic sound by her mouth. "It pretty much does hurt, doesn't it? I think...a few pieces of Bonesbane would fix the broken bones," she smirked lightly, watching him

"Good morning, my ladies." "I'm here on behalf of Lord Cyran Ardent. I've been asked to deliver this to Lady Seraphina." I froze as a cream-colored envelope bearing the royal seal was placed in my hands. Written across the front were the words— A Royal Charity Shooting Exhibition

The lord waited until she sat down and sat down next to her, turning to her and asking a completely unexpected question for Alina: - This Senor Magi, who is he to you? Surprisingly, just five minutes ago, Alina was indifferent, for a minute she experienced some wariness, but the words of the lord literally washed away her fears, caution and hit her with a lethal dose of adrenaline. If she were really Alina's age, she would have soared right there, but in the case of the lord, she could restrain herself.

"Who's asking?" "My name is Emilio Agosti." I nearly dropped the phone. "You're supposed to be in a coma." "That's what my family wanted everyone to believe. Easier to control an empire when people think the heir is incapacitated." His voice was dry, intelligent, nothing like the vegetable I'd been sold. "I've been very awake for three years. I just couldn't move until recently. A rather nasty disorder called Guillain-Barré. Paralysis that looks like death."