When Freedom Had a Name
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Ongoing8m
Last published Fri, Dec 26, 2025
A bittersweet slow-burn set in nineteenth-century England.
The year is 1885. A seventeen-year-old young man leaves his family home to begin life on his own terms. He heads to Liverpool, hoping that the vast port city and its thousands of unfamiliar faces will become a wellspring of inspiration. The unlikely saviour of his artistically unfulfilled soul proves to be a small tavern at the end of a street. Unspoken feelings, quiet tension, and a poet's restless passion draw him into a world where a single glance may alter the course of a life forever.
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English is not my mother toungue. For any language mistakes I make - I'm deeply sorry and don't hesitate to let me know!
All Rights Reserved
#174
victorianera
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"Treat my wound" he said, laying down on the cold floor of the maid's room in his mansion. "B...but it's too deep. I can't... you need to go to the hospital, sir" the maid replied, her lips trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. "Do it" he said calmly, no trace of pain on his face as he turned his back toward her, his skin carved with wounds. With shaking hands, she stepped closer, the first-aid kit clutched tightly. Tears slid down her cheeks as she began treating him. He lay there on the floor, careless of dignity, of blood, of the world, his eyes fixed on her. And in them lived something forbidden... something powerful enough to destroy everything. He asked her to treat his wounds. But what he truly wanted... was for her to heal him. And she...she was forbidden to even think of him. Forget healing him. What will happen when a sinister mafia becomes obsessed with his maid? Will a soft, pure-hearted girl fall in love with the man the world fears to even look at? Read the story to find out what destiny has planned for them.
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