/0/15818/coverbig.jpg?v=fdccfef01f65d1547fcc4f3b1797b117)
The Dreamer of Dreams by Marie, Queen of Roumania
The Dreamer of Dreams by Marie, Queen of Roumania
And I dream in my waking dreams, and deep in the dreams of sleep.
Fiona MacLeod.
* * *
Consternation reigned in King Wanda's castle,-the great Northern King before whose will so many trembled, before whose smile so many crouched in expectation. His favourite painter had suddenly lost his wits and refused to finish the picture he had begun on the walls of the ancient hall where all the great banquets were held-a beautiful hall, where a frieze was being conjured into life by the incomparable art of Eric Gundian, a quite young man of wonderful talent, who had been discovered by the King one sunshiny morning.
Each day that Eric Gundian had spent within the King's walls his reputation had grown, and he had, all unconsciously, become the Court favourite. His every whim had been an order; and his gay handsome face had been loved by old and young.
The creeping jealousies around him had died down of themselves before the sweetness of his smile and the wonder of his art.
The sound of his voice was like spring birds singing of love in green-clad forests, and when the sun shone on his head it was like the haze of a summer's evening over a ripe cornfield. In his eyes slumbered the beautiful peace of mountain lakes, and in his heart there lived the simple trust of a pure soul ... and now Eric Gundian, Eric of the golden locks-Eric the fairy-fingered, Eric the sweet-voiced had lost his wits!
One morning he awoke, and no one could understand the meaning of his talk; he declared he had had a dream, and in his dream he had seen two eyes, the eyes he needed for the completing of his picture; and without those eyes he never again could touch either colour or brush. King Wanda had called for him to be brought before his presence, but Eric had sullenly refused to answer his command.
At first King Wanda had been furiously angry, but then he remembered Eric's wonderful art, and had deigned to go out to where his favourite sat on the cool marble steps, that led down to the lake, before the King's white palace of beauty.
Eric had risen before the crowned figure that bent towards him a stern face of inquiry, but to all the King's questions, to all his persuasions, flatteries, threats, and entreaties Eric had replied with a sad gesture of resignation, that never again could he take up his brush till he had found those eyes which had haunted his dream. His pain and his despair were so evident, that King Wanda felt that no words had force to move the distracted young man. Sadly he departed, and mounted one by one the shallow marble steps which reflected in glowing colours the costly clothes that he wore. Once more he turned and looked down upon his favourite, who sat, his head in his hands, gazing across the sparkling lake; he heaved a deep sigh and felt like quarrelling with Fate who had despoiled him of one of his great joys.
As he reached the palace door, he was met by the sweet little figure of his daughter, who came out into the sunshine, gathering up her long trailing dress, a golden ball clasped in her hands. The King smiled upon her, and bade her go down to the water's edge to try and console the young painter with her radiant youth. With a gay laugh Oona rolled her golden ball down the snow-white steps, and it fell with a splash into the water at the young man's feet, making great circles that spread, always widening, over the blue expanse; but Eric never moved, he kept staring into the distance as if he were following a vision no other eye could see. Oona came noiselessly down the steps, rather awed by the silence and stillness of the young man who had always been her gayest playfellow.
Gently she drew near to where he sat, and dropped down at his side-then like a playful kitten she nestled quite close to him and peered up into his face. The smile faded from her soft lips and gave way to a look of wonder and distress. She put both arms round her young friend's neck, and pressing her blossom-like cheek against his shoulder, she asked him gently if he would not come and play with her beneath the flowering apple-trees.
Eric looked at her as if she were a stranger; his eyes seemed to wander over her fair face without any recognition. Suddenly little Oona was afraid, and drew back; what had come to her friend? Why was he so changed? Why did she begin to shiver in the warm sunshine so that all around her lost light and colour?
Once more she drew near, her warm little heart longing to help, longing to bring the smile back to the eyes of her companion. She wore a dark-red rose in her belt, and drawing it out she pulled the red petals off, one by one, letting them drop over his bent head down upon the white marble at his feet. But Eric never looked up; the velvety petals lay, a fading little heap, unnoticed upon the marble step, till a small gust of wind swept them into the water which carried them away far out of sight.
Poor little Oona rose to her feet; a great fear had come over her; and gathering up her long white skirts she fled back into the palace as if she were being pursued.
Still Eric sat, gazing into space, till night came down and blotted out all things from his sight.
* * *
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.
Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
"GET THIS FAT, SHAPELESS COW OUT OF MY PRESENCE!" I claimed our Alpha as my mate, he insulted and rejected me in front of the whole pack, resisting the mate bond. "GET THIS FAT, SHAPELESS COW OUT OF MY PRESENCE!" He said, and even with his cruel words, my wolf whined and cried out to him. Getting sold later for a few pennies was the worst heartbreak I could ever wish for. But not until I got a second chance at love with the Howling Alphas. Being mated to 2 Alphas isn't a problem. But there are more and they're all fighting for my attention. With war looming amongst the werewolf clan and plentiful revelations from the Moon Goddess, I'm presented as the solution to the ultimate problem, but that would mean even more pain for me. Will my mates choose me over their pack and the entire werewolf clan, even though they have little or no choice in the matter? Yet, with the ongoing chaos, someone is still staking his claim on me. Who is this man?
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all-from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn't return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel's terminal illness and realized she didn't have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
TOP