Firebrand - Chapter 657: Swift Negotiations

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

America, 1980. No sooner had Xu Yi transmigrated than he was put on the dissection table; then he gradually came to understand the true nature of this world. “Studying medicine can’t exorcise undead demons; I must become an exorcist!” he resolved silently to himself. On a misty, rain-soaked night. “Miss Evil Spirit over there, the night is cold and damp; be careful not to catch a chill! Come over here and warm yourself by the fire!” Xu Yi said, holding a lighter, as the pale gold flame slowly approached the other. The Evil Spirit shrank back, looking at Xu Yi with fear. “Don’t be afraid, I just want to warm you up...” Xu Yi’s face broke into a warm smile, “by setting you on fire!” Ding dong! Ding dong! “Sign-in at the Land of Fear successful, Resurrection Coin awarded!” “Synthesis pathway requirements met, do you wish to combine the following entries?” Psychic + Scholar + Painter = Psychic Painter! Saintly Offspring + Gunfight Technique + Revolver Mastery = Holy Gunslinger! Undead + Revelation + Holy Nation = God!

What?! The sticking to her daily, eating her tofu (taking advantage of her ) is a cross-dresser?

Not to mention that he is the Evil Highness!! She had slept beside him, and was touched by him, what a big loss!

Ah–!

Softly on his chest, listening to his pounding, strong heartbeat, her face turned red. Her greatest desire was to be in his arms.

She never dared to dream before, dared not wish for, and thought that in this life there was no such chance. This had been in her most secret heart of hearts, she longed for his warmth, longed for his love.

Even though he had hurt her before, he had given her more tenderness than others.

Being teased, loved, laughed at… had infiltrated into her bloodstream. Love, she did not know when it had taken root, for when she discovered it, it had grown into a towering tree, no longer able to be split open or cut off.

His hug, his warmth, she would not allow him to give it to others. If they were not only for her, she would rather not have them.

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