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Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 630    |    Released on: 17/06/2026

ell silent the mo

dark mahogany table that could seat thirty. Th

n sat to its right, his attention buried in official-looking

Lucas, a woman with a perpetually pinched expression. Beside her, Lady R

fifteen, stared down at his plate with a sullen expression. Jasper, a year younger, watched everything wit

It was like walking

lm. She moved to the empty chair beside Dyla

her tea. The si

the table, a pained grimace flashing across his face. She noticed his riding boots. T

tight? If they cut off your circulation, it wil

e. He hadn't expected her to speak to h

flicker of something-curiosity, perhap

aw," she sneered. "You have a keen eye. One might think we'

in, approving smile. Kaelan

Dylan's son, which makes him my son now. Is it so improper for a mother to be concerned about her child's well-being?" She paused, then shift

turned their attack into a question of family values, forcing the

and Rosalind we

ing with a crisp, deliberate motion and looked at Kaelan. "If the bo

able, but his words were a clear v

h fury, but she dared not argu

ella's direction. The wall of his resentment had its first small crack.

an to ease, the dining

of Mrs. Gable. Her sharp eyes swept across the table in a single, a

face, and her lips thinned. A higher

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Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis
Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis
“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?"”