Her Peasant

Her Peasant

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WpMetadataReadComplete Wed, Dec 7, 201634m
Meet Aracia! You know those fairy tales where your Prince comes to save you? Where he finds you in a dark alley? Where your particular Prince will look into your eyes and tell you that you are beautiful? Will kiss your sad tears away? Well, what if your Prince was actually a peasant, or even a rodent, and you were his Prince in a sense? Well, meet Aracia and her Peasant, Micheal. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ (Exercerpt from Book) "I am Aracia Waugh. The current Royal Family. Descendent of Marina and Charlety Waugh. Your Highness to you and the rest of your rodent men around here," She said, sitting down in the snow. Ignoring the fact that she had a dress on. "Okay and I am Micheal Junior Paley. The current Homeless Rodent slash Peasant. Descent of Clare and Micheal Senior from I don't g-" He joked, before seeing Aracia fall backwards.
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Aurora opens her eyes only to feel the agonising pain in her body. That is to be expected when there has been an accident. It's excruciatingly painful. Aurora groans in pain and pulls off the blanket, taking in her surroundings. It is more appropriate for a hospital interior design to look to the mediaeval era. Not shabby, but more on the extravagant side. The nurses' attire, on the other hand, appears odd. Someone said out of nowhere, "Her Grace, please wake up! Call the doctor right away!" Aurora approaches the mirror and looks at the woman with deep red eyes in it. The woman had blonde hair that, while a little messy, flowed perfectly over her shoulder. Her fair complexion lends her an ethereal appearance. Not to mention that her outfits make her look like a noblewoman from a historical series. She pinches herself, only to realise that the blonde woman staring at her is herself. A thought struck her mind, as she utters her first statement in this world, "Fuck me". Medea has finished her work, but she is still unsure how to fix all of the messes. She hasn't been herself in a long time, and it's bothering her. The throne seems so far away, and the weight of the burden grows heavier with each passing day. A letter from the Imperial Palace has arrived, instructing the Duchess to look after the House of Smith's Duchess of Light, Natalie Wilson Smith. As an evil scheme was about to unfold, she smiled wickedly. 'This is my new card.' p/s: I can't find the original owner of the photo of the cover, if you know or you are the owner of the cover. Please let me know, so I could credit your arts. With love 🥰

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