The Young Urban Doctor - Chapter 242 - Moved

Theodora is the Queen of Polis, a city-state that lost the war against the most powerful empire in the continent.

She is sure that they'll execute her immediately but, somehow, she survives the meeting with the Emperor, and she finds herself... Married?

Tossed in a new world without connections and allies, she has to either accept her fate or lose the chance to help her people once again.

She soon finds out that her new husband knows more about her than she does herself, and that his purposes are often far from what she expects.

A fallen queen that doesn't know how to be anything else. A handsome Duke who's the cause of her ruin. And their efforts to find some happiness in a marriage that's been forced on them.

WARNING: there are contents not suitable for a sensitive audience.

The smut scenes are half-censored at the beginning, but the amount and details will increase after a few dozen chapters (according to the Queen's mood .-. )

***

«I'm sorry for lying to you, your grace...»

«You're a Duchess. No one will dare to consider your words a lie: if you say that you were painting souls, then it's the truth.»

«I will remember it.»

«No, you have to understand it, Theodora. You're not a prisoner, but my wife. I'll protect you when you need it, and I'll help you with any issue you have. You're not just a Duchess in the name. You're my Duchess.»

«It's hard to believe in such a short amount of time.»

«For now, stop shaking like a chicken. I won't hurt you.»

***

One night she gets drunk and mistakes the most well-known Mafia boss for a host and intends to sleep with him.

Oh my! What should I do? It’s best to run away!

- Description from Novelupdates

Isabella was supposed to be sipping champagne at a luxury spa, not waking up in the middle of a forest. Worse, a SYSTEM had attached itself to her like some clingy ex, spouting nonsense about survival, quests, and—oh, hell no—manual labor.“System, I was NOT built for the wilderness! My ideal ‘roughing it’ experience involves a five-star hotel with bad WiFi!”Now, instead of lounging in silk robes, she’s being ordered to farm? To hunt?“A farming quest? You want me—a city girl—to grow food? System, I once killed a cactus by overwatering it. This is NOT my calling!”And don’t even get her started on the hygiene situation.“You want me to bathe in a cold river? Darling, I require warm water, scented oils, and an ambience! What do I look like—some barbarian?!”Unfortunately, the locals—big, muscular beastmen—don’t seem to understand the concept of self-care. The women? Neglecting their skin like it’s a crime to be radiant. The men? Walking hygiene disasters.“Ladies, if your man can smell you before he sees you, we have a problem.”“You see this? This is lotion. It exists so you don’t look like a dried-up leaf. Use it.”“A beard should be majestic, not tragic. Let me fix it.”And the beastmen? They don’t just stare at her like she’s an oddity. No, they hover. They smirk. They lean in too close, fangs flashing with amusement.“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she huffed, crossing her arms.The panther grinned, his tail flicking. “Because you’re fascinating when you’re annoyed.”No, absolutely not. She was not here for this nonsense.“If you have time to stare, you have time to moisturize.”She didn’t ask to be here. She didn’t ask to be their savior. But if she has to suffer through this world, she’s making everyone around her suffer less—through skincare, style, and some serious attitude.“If I hear one more ‘We don’t season our food here,’ I’m launching a war.”“If you have time to gossip, you have time to do squats.”“You want to impress a woman? Start with not smelling like the battlefield.”Survival isn’t just about fighting monsters; it’s about looking good while doing it. So what if the System keeps throwing impossible quests her way?“What do you mean ‘you can’t skip quests’?! Since when?! Where is the skip button?! I demand a skip button!”But somewhere between dodging ridiculous quests and fixing these people’s tragic grooming habits, Isabella found herself in situations. Uncomfortable, heart-racing situations.Like being trapped against a tree by the red python, his red eyes half-lidded as he murmured, “You talk too much, little star. Should I silence you?”Like waking up with the lion lord’s fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders, his deep voice gruff, “You shiver in your sleep. I’ll fix that.”Like the phoenix watching her every move, his burning gaze searing into her skin as he mused,“You cause chaos wherever you go, but I find that I don’t mind.”Oh, hell. No. She was not about to fall for four beastmen. She was too pretty for this much stress.“If you insult me again, I’ll make sure your soul needs a beauty upgrade.”“I refuse to be disrespected by anyone who dresses like an unwashed tree branch.”And yet, when a rival tribe came to challenge her, when danger lurked too close, those same beastmen stood beside her—smirking, taunting, fighting for her.“A beastman growled at me today. I growled back. He ran. I am the alpha now.”Isabella isn’t just surviving. She’s thriving. And this world better keep up.

Thousands of years ago, the First Expungement came. The world changed, and humanity was nearly wiped out. Thankfully, with the paracausal power of Angelicas, humans was able to push back the Ghost tide and rebuild their civilization.

Now, however, it was time for the Second.

Finn Thresher was just a normal university student at first. He, like the rest of the public world, had no idea what was coming for them — but sometimes, just because you don’t know, doesn’t mean you can’t be harmed.

His family… his sight… his purpose. All lost to the paranormal.

It was time to abandon his beliefs. To throw away his morals.

After all… if these creatures weren’t human anyway, there was no point in showing them humanity.

In the first battle of this war, the Ghosts won, nearly driving the human race to extinction. In the second, the humans fought back with the power of Angelicas and managed to secure a victory.

Now, the third and final round was approaching — and this time, it’s personal.