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... prestigious family.

To make a new connection and strengthen exchanges with noble families. It was absolutely necessary to rebuild a family that had once collapsed.

“But now that I think about it, I wonder if I have to.”

“Isn’t there a family in the South that could be used?”

“To say no is like spitting in my face.”

The Empress Dowager smiled bitterly.

“If I only think of them as a Viscounty, there would be a perfect partner, but my heart is not like that. If ...

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”When I tell you to proceed with Plan A, you can’t just ignore it and go with Plan B,” said the king.

”Sure”, she replied; she’ll just go to Plan C then! No biggie.

”If you were told to go eastwards, you can’t just ignore me and go in the opposite way,” the king added on.

”Yes,” she said while nodding. If she can’t go in the opposite way, North and south work fine too.

”You are NOT allowed to have affair with any other men!” the king then emphasized.

”Sure”. She replied. She never has to be the one having affair with the others. Others have it with her.

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The Return of the Iron-blood Sword HoundChapter 395
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He was the hunting hound of the Baskerville family.

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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