Held in Violent Hands

Held in Violent Hands

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WpMetadataReadEm andamento11h 44min
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização sex, ago 28, 2026
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Ficção
Temas Sociais
Vida Familiar
Crescimento e autodescoberta
"Fine," she said. "If you won't take me seriously like this, I'll go put on my mafia outfit." Sloane squinted at her. "Your what?" "My mafia outfit." Before either of them could stop her, Lila jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. ____ Three minutes later, Lila came back. And Blair nearly spat out her coffee. Because apparently, "mafia outfit" meant she had dressed entirely in black-black cargo pants, a black long-sleeve shirt, black socks, and... Sunglasses. Inside. At breakfast time. Lila stood in the doorway like she had just stepped out of the world's least threatening action movie. "Well?" Sloane looked at her for a long moment. Then at Blair. Then back at Lila. "...No." Lila frowned. "What do you mean no?!" "I mean you look like a twelve-year-old trying to rob a gas station."
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Marigold never meant to get caught. One stolen bread roll, one furious guard, and suddenly she's locked in the most beautiful castle she's ever seen - waiting to face a queen she never expected to be kind. Queen Seraphine and Queen Rosalind rule their kingdom with steady hands and even steadier hearts. When the tiny thief kneels before their throne - wide-eyed, trembling, clutching her stolen roll - they don't see a criminal. They see something that makes their chests ache in a way neither can quite name. One trial becomes one night in the castle. One night becomes a nursery painted in stars. And Marigold - who has never known softness - slips into a headspace so small and sweet she wonders if she ever wants to grow up at all. 🍼 Babytalk. Pacifiers. Bottle feeding. Nursery days. Cuddles and carry. A little who stays little - and two queens who wouldn't have it any other way. 💕

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