Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis

Chapter 5

Word Count: 772 | Released on: 17/06/2026

ore her a testament to the art of deception. Eliza had laid out

touch too much powder to flatten her cheekbones, a drab shade of rouge, a liner that made her eyes se

tely. But the large, silver-gilt mirror on the vanity acted as

to the reflection

nous, like porcelain held up to candlelight. Her cheekbones were high and elegant, casting faint, a

hey were huge and almond-shaped, the color of dark, rich chocolate. They w

had seen at court. This was not the woman described in the reports he'd commissione

rate disguise. But why would a woman in h

pins from her hair, and a cascade of dark, heavy silk

ith a simple nightgown of pale ivory silk. The fine material clung

lder almost hit the window frame. He stared blindly into the night, but the image of h

aving a vast empty expanse between them. She closed her eyes,

k silhouette against the moonlight. Finally, with a sigh, he mo

room was the soft whis

performance finally caught up with Gabriella. Her

eped into her bones-a phantom memory of her final hours. In her sleep, sh

gue was hard, unfamiliar. He sat up, rubbing the te

her. Her brow was furrowed, her lips parted i

and walked silently to the bedside, looki

owards him. Her arm shot out, her hand closing around his forearm. Her cheek came t

n fr

nt of lavender and roses filled his senses. The innocent, trusting

r grip tightened in her sleep

ul, smoothed of pain. The vulnerability in her expression was a

his gut-a chaotic mix of irritation, su

ong time, Lord Dylan Lucas fel

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?"”