Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex-Fiancé's Comatose Uncle

Chapter 7

Word Count: 750 | Released on: 22/06/2026

ess like rest than surrender. Her body and min

ed the darkness. A sensation. The ghost of a touch, impossi

was pitch black, silent save for her

sted mind. She rolled over, pulling the blan

r her bed, a shado

his leaden limbs to move. To drag himself from his bed, through the unlocked co

of tears. In sleep, the iron mask of her composure had fallen away

rced upon him. The woman who had b

meant to look, but an irresistible impulse made him brush

pulling him under. His body, acting on some primal instinct, carried

e floor when Seraphina finally awoke. She felt

t bath and laid out a fresh set of clothes. Their eyes, when they looked at her, were filled with a mixture of

othe her aching muscles. The physical pain was a dull thro

uite was slightly ajar. She was sure she had closed it last ni

quiet efficiency of a ghost, had entered to collect the previous night's linens. Her eyes, shar

ely from the others, and left the room. A few minutes later, she stood before Princess Victoria i

Good," she said, her voice low. "The girl has done her duty. See that she is treated with the

lor of life and defiance. She would not hide in mourning clothes. She had paid a pr

was fastening a si

the morning room. Lady Philippa... she was asking why the new Duchess was

Seraphina's lips. The firs

iece of jewelry she owned: a diamond hair comb that had been part of h

r, the diamonds catching the m

debt. And starting today, she

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex-Fiancé's Comatose Uncle

Er Ye History

“On my wedding day, I arrived at Ironwood expecting to become Damien Beaumont's wife. Instead, I found him in bed with my stepsister. She was wearing the bridal silk meant for me. He was kissing her like I was already nothing. "Must you really marry her?" Isolde purred. Damien laughed. He said he only needed me for a few months-just long enough to secure his dead uncle's inheritance. Then he would annul the marriage, brand me barren or mad, and marry Isolde instead. The best part? She was already pregnant with his child. They thought I would cry. They thought I would run home in disgrace. They thought a country-bred Hayes girl would quietly swallow the ruin they had made of her. They were wrong. I set the bridal suite on fire. By the time the servants and guests rushed in, Damien and Isolde were half-dressed, exposed, and surrounded by witnesses. Yet his family still tried to blame me. Poor upbringing. Too wild. Too vulgar. Not worthy of the Beaumont name. So I gave them a new scandal. I put on a black mourning dress, walked into the family chapel, and married Damien's supposedly dead uncle, Duke Alistair Beaumont. A war hero. A legend. A man declared dead before I ever met him. By a loophole in the marriage contract, I became his Duchess. Damien became my nephew. His mother became my sister-in-law. And everyone who looked down on me was suddenly forced to bow. But then my "dead" husband was brought back to Ironwood alive-breathing, silent, and trapped in a cursed, deathlike sleep. The Beaumont matriarch made me a ruthless offer: Give Alistair an heir, and I would have land, wealth, power, and protection no one could take from me. I accepted. Now I rule the estate that tried to bury me. My enemies are watching for one mistake. My comatose husband may not be as unaware as everyone believes. And if Damien thought betraying me was the end of my story, he should have listened more carefully when I said my vows. Because I did not marry a corpse. I married a Duke. And when he wakes, this entire house will learn what it means to cross his Duchess.”