Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis

Chapter 2

Word Count: 717 | Released on: 17/06/2026

are you

t trembling in her hands. "To marry the heir

ed to hang he

the northern lands he ruled. He could be summoned to the batt

n, yet he had three adopted sons. Marrying him mea

d, a trace of genuine warmth softening her g

anity. Inside were the few precious belongings left by

ed and forgotten, she had voraciously read books o

ining chip and weapon

list of ingredients. "Take this to the estate's apothecary," she instr

er expression a mix of confusi

e expressed the humble concern of a bride-to-be for her fiancé as he prepared to fulfill

warm, fragrant vial alongside the sealed letter. "Ha

ed in dark, imposing oak. The air within the Marqu

plight, reflecting his handsome yet granite-hard features. His eyes were a deep, sto

ly and placed a box from the Curtis ma

rriage; it was an arrangement forced upon him by his gra

rd," Finn reported softly

brows. He set the sword aside and opened

contrasting sharply with the smell of old

e handwriting was graceful,

e weave of etiquette and concern. He had expected something else-perhaps

fell upon the

ook a sniff, his eye

rk and de

iption for the old war wound he so carefully

rded secret. How cou

ing to gauge his mood. "Shal

fore setting the vial back on the desk.

. For the first time, this arranged marriage felt like more than just a na

: "Blackwood, you need a mistress to manage t

la would be the righ

ived. She was escorted into the vast, lu

Chapter End

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Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis

White P History

“In our past life, I was chosen for the royal court, ascending to the throne as Queen, only to discover I was merely a shield for the King's true love, eventually dying by a poisoned chalice. Meanwhile, my half-sister married the powerful Marquis of Blackwood. But when he was crippled in an accident, she vented her bitter regret by abusing his adopted sons, ultimately being cast out and becoming the laughingstock of high society. When we both opened our eyes and returned to the morning our fates were decided, my sister lunged forward and desperately snatched the royal selection brooch from my hands. "The supreme glory of the court belongs to me this time!" she sneered. I lowered my head to hide a cold smile. Go ahead, sister. Take that golden death warrant. Without hesitation, I picked up the remaining marriage proposal and chose Lord Dylan Lucas, the ruthless and fearsome Marquis of the North. On our wedding night, my new husband looked at me with eyes like winter frost. "I will not offer you my affection, my companionship, or my bed," he declared coldly. "You are merely here to be a nominal mother to my three adopted sons." "I understand, my lord," I replied meekly, secretly thrilled. A loveless marriage with wealth, power, and adorable children? It was the perfect retirement plan for a woman who had barely survived a palace bloodbath. I played my part perfectly. I used my hidden medical skills to heal his frail youngest son, effortlessly outmaneuvered his hostile relatives, and brought life back to his gloomy estate. I asked for nothing but peace. But I miscalculated one thing. The "cold and ruthless" Marquis wasn't supposed to watch me from the shadows with darkening, possessive eyes. He wasn't supposed to investigate my past. And he certainly wasn't supposed to shatter his own rules. "You've conquered my household and my sons, Gabriella," he whispered one night, cornering me in the study, his stormy grey eyes pinning me in place. "Tell me... when do you plan to conquer me?"”