Mostly poetry written by me or poetry I find to be good. I’m looking for ways to improve and am looking forward to suggestions. Thanks!

The Yuxiu Villa Estate was famous in Kingstown. Only the rich and wealthy could live there.
Li Sicheng had bought a villa there long ago and moved in with his family. For a while after that, he had moved back to the old manor for a period of time. Not long after, he moved back to his home in Yuxiu Villa Estate.
Su Qianci was in the seating room with the children teaching them to recite traditional poetry. The three children listened happily. In small voices, they recited the poetry back to her.
Nanny Rong stood to the side watching them with a content smile on her face.
Ding! Dong!
The doorbell rang. The children all looked over in curiosity.
Li Jianyue stood up immediately and called out, "Mommy, I'll open the door!"
The smile on Nanny Rong's face deepened as she pressed the little kid back down and said, "I'll go. You can stay seated."
Li Jianyue sat back down and replied, "Thank you, Nanny Rong!"
"You're welcome," Nanny Rong said. "Ersu has to learn her poetry well!"
"Yes!" Li Jianyue enthusiastically replied.
Nanny Rong looked through the peephole and saw the visitor was Ou Ming. She quickly opened the door in surprise and called out, "Madam, Mr. Ou is here."
Ou Ming and Yu Lili were holding hands. When the both of them stepped in together, the looks on the children's faces brightened.
Li Jianyue got up immediately and ran over to Ou Ming, yelling, "Uncle Ou!"
Ou Ming crouched down laughingly and reached his hands out toward Li Jianyue to catch her. She came to a stop just shy of Ou Ming's reach. Hesitant to go forward and further, she looked at Ou Ming's hand and asked, "Uncle, is your hand alright?"
Ou Ming smiled and gently pinched the kid's round cheeks as he replied, "It's not completely recovered yet, but it will soon be!"
Li Jianyue nodded her head and blinked her round eyes as she said, "Uncle, you must get well soon. Auntie, you're here too!" With that, she went up to Yu Lili in laughter and held on to Yu Lili's hand. She glimpsed at the ring on Yu Lili's finger and yelled out, "Auntie's ring is so pretty!"
Yu Lili burst out in a wide grin as she crouched down and answered, "Thank you, Ersu."
Li Jianyue laughingly pulled Yu Lili to the couch, calling out as she went along, "Mom, Older Brother, come over quickly!"
Su Qianci could tell from a mile away that her daughter's sudden hospitality was borne from the desire to escape her poetry recitation. She shook her head in good humor and replied, "Go, call your Dad over."
"OK!" The smile on Li Jianyue's face widened. The frills on her new pink dress bounced along as she ran and hollered in her tender and sweet voice, "Daddy! Daddy!"
As the little girl's voice faded in the distance, Li Mosen and Li Jianqian ran into the kitchen together.
Nanny Rong was in the midst of brewing tea for the guests. When she saw the two boys run in, she couldn't refrain from laughing and asked, "What are the two of you up to?"
Li Jianqian stepped forward and replied, "Nanny Rong, pass the tea to me. I'll bring it out to serve the guests."
At the same time, Li Mosen replied, "I'll serve the guests the snacks."
Nanny Rong arranged the tea set, but she didn't hand it to Li Jianyue. She passed it to Li Mosen instead and said, "Young Master Mosen is older. He'll be more careful. Young Master Jianyue, why don't you take the snacks out instead?"
Li Jianyue was a little disappointed, but he nodded his head nevertheless, "OK."
It wasn't very long after Ou Ming and Yu Lili had sat down that they heard a young little voice drift over.
"When will Mommy take us out to play? I don't want to stay home all day reciting poetry. It's not fun at all! Daddy, will you convince Mommy for us, please?"


In her previous lifetime, they had married for five years. He meant everything to her, but she was thrown away like an old shoe. 

After her rebirth, she gave him a divorce contract preemptively— 
“Divorce after one year, the terms of the contract are as follows: husband and wife shall not share a room or bed. Intimacy forbidden?” 
he raised his eyebrow. 

Who knew that after she got drunk one day, leaning on the headboard, he rested his deep-set eyes on her. "You broke the contract, Mrs, Li."

On Saturday afternoon at her boarding house, Shasha received several children who asked for some reading guidance. Reyhan, couldn't wait to be able to read on his own, he got bored of hearing his teacher reading for him all the time. 

 On the terrace, Edo was making use of the place for teaching other children to read. He was trying to win over Shasha's heart, the girl who kept rejecting his love. Shasha had stopped playing theater even though she was very talented. Now he could only help Shasha publish her books of children's fairy tales.

 Elsewhere, Regina was preparing for her birthday party at a popular Cafe. A very festive party. She also invited the capital's top artists. Maya Agustin, her step mother was sponsoring this high end party, as well as for socializing herself as a candidate for mayor.

 Regina sent invitations to Edo's WhatsApp yesterday. But he didn't even opened the WA, let alone read those messages. 

Tonight, Edo was planning to invite Shasha to watch a poetry musichology performance in the open field in front of the mayor's house.

 Regina was worried that if Edo didn't make it to her party, then all her plans of showing off him as her close companion to her friends would fail. And, she would lose face! Thus Regina contocted a new plan, she invited a newcomer singer, he could be used for now.  Rafli, the newcomer singer, didn't mind being close to Regina, the daughter of the famous singer Maya Agustin.
 Elsewhere at the top.  Maya Agustin's father was furious. Maya Agustin pampered her stepdaughter to no limits.

 Meanwhile, her own daughter, Shasha was left to live a simple life as a pre school teacher and was struggling in a slum.
***
 10 years ago Maya Agustin came and let him know that she was his daughter. Saying, she was able to find her father after so many years and she did not want to live in pain like her mother, Maimunah. Her father made amends for his big mistake by giving her a luxury apartment and amenities. In the past, he sponsored everything related to the campaign for the legislative candidate, Maya Agustin aiming for and helped her a lot in becoming a legislative member. All in hopes that she would stop being an artist and bring her daughter Shasha to live with her.

 But Maya Agustin had ignored his wishes.  Meanwhile, he already knew where Maimunah, his wife had been hiding for years from him.

 In front of him was a proposal for sponsorship for the mayoral campaign from Maya Agustin, he furiously threw the proposal out the window, which hit the janitor in the side yard. The clerk secured the proposal. 
Meanwhile he accepted Rahmat's proposal, Maya's ex-husband. He would help his former son-in-law. And teach valuable lessons for his daughter, Maya Agustina.

 ****
 A natural garden was demolished, and a metal fence was laid out around the park. Even though, it was a natural garden, it was mainly used by children who were reading enthusiasts and naturally their parents would follow them. But now, the demolition disappointed all of them. They went to the house of the head of the 

The neighborhood association/ Rukun Tetangga (RT)¹ to ask about what projects were being built in the park.
The head of the RT didn't have any explanation for them. They finally flocked to the house of the head of the Rukun Warga (RW)². The answer was the same. He too didn't know.

Not satisfied with the answer, they finally went to the urban village office. The village head was in a meeting in the district. Those who were disappointed finally left the cardboard papers filled with disappointment protests, criticisms that they posted on the wall of the village office.

 "Restore our garden"

 "Don't take over our children's playground"

 "Playground is the right of the people"

 "What are you going to do to our garden! Give it back!!"

And many more protest sentences filled the walls of the village office.

In the afternoon, when the meeting ended, the village head was stunned by the large number of written messages on the office wall. He had never seen a citizen demonstration like this before. 

Immediately he and the urban village staff came to the location. He did not know about the project in the natural garden. The park was tightly closed. The entrance to the project area was currently closed and had a large padlock. Due to heavy rain the project work was stopped. The workers went home.
 In the evening the Mayor held a special meeting about the project that was being built by the private sector with special permission from the governor.
Rahmat already knew which party voluntarily rebuilt the park without government assistance. The garden was built for Shasha by her grandfather Isaac Ibrahim. Grandfather who she didn't know. Grandpa who made her his only heir.

Shasha diverted her literary cart towards the mosque, her students were waiting in an orderly manner, the heavy rain and the demolished park were not obstacles for them to learn to read or listen to Shasha's latest tales.
***
 Despite being disappointed by Edo's absence at her birthday party, that couldn't make Regina to just give up. The word 'giving up' was not in her dictionary.

She already knew Edo's schedule of activities from morning to evening every day. Desy was indeed a smart assistant.

 "Every Monday to Wednesday, Edo mostly works at home or in the library, or in the computer laboratory, his activities are writing. On Thursday he trains for theater at school every morning, in the afternoon he practices his banners. Friday activities at the smart park, now the park is closed, he doesn't know where to move. Saturday sports - jogging or fitness exercises. This Saturday the schedule is jogging at that natural garden. Sunday the schedule is empty, no one knew what he does, but last night he went to watch an art performance in front of the Mayor's office building, reportedly the Mayor also read poetry. This activity is routinely held every first week of every month." Desy read out Edo's agenda until she was out of breath.  After hearing Desy's report, Regina made plans.

 "Arrange the schedule for brother Edo's theater training to be in our school, make a request letter to his assistant. If necessary, I will make a theater group at school, we will announce a theater competition, let my mother look for sponsors for city level theater competitions between high schools,  Let my papa manage the art studio, Edo or whatever will be the committee. Tomorrow we will have an audition to find members. Inform the student council president that he has to meet with us tomorrow about our theater group."  Desy noted Regina's every instruction frantically.

 Actually, Regina had a leadership talent that deserves a thumbs up. She had learned a lot from her father who was an artist manager, she had the ability to influence others, but because of her envious and arrogant character, she can be dangerous for her cunning and selfish ways, and she liked to look down on others, which made her a person with a bad character. 

 "And tomorrow afternoon we go jogging to the youth park!"
 "But.... Tomorrow afternoon, your schedule is ...?"
 "Cancel," said Regina irritably.
 In the evening, Regina sold her mother a monthly art show and that she have to sponsor a high school theater competition.

******
 Having to Appear on one stage with Maya Agustin at the poetry reading next month, finally Rahmat suspected something, if his ex-wife intended to become a rival in the upcoming mayoral election.

 The performing arts committee reported Maya Agustin's insistence on getting into his routine agenda. Rahmat complained that Maya was trying to grab the stage. Wasn't Maya talented in music? 

 Back when they were still husband and wife, Maya never liked it when Rahmat was busy with his theater groups and poetry. Then why did she suddenly want to enter someone else's stage.

***
 At her luxurious home, Maya Agustin began to be busy practicing poetry reading by bringing in a special trainer, a poetry artist.

 Meanwhile, the Mayor's team prepared to change the theme of the poetry performance with street children and rural communities, a community group that Maya didn't like, even though she used to be from a marginalized community.

 Apart from that, performing arts also involved women and environmental activist figures. So Maya was not the only guest from the art performances later.

 A simple and popular stage, if Maya Agustin appeared as glamorous as her musical performances so far, then she will even turn into a subject for mockery.

 Of course, Rahmat did not want to be attacked just like that. Nobody knew that the stage will be the personal war stage of two people who have loved each other.

 Neither Rahmat nor Maya knew that Shasha would appear as the main star on the stage.
 Someone else planned to make Shasha famous in such a short time and in an extraordinary way.
 The smart park turned out to be completed in 10 days, a real stealth work, the park was equipped with free Wi-Fi for environmental and educational group members.  Registration for smart park membership was open to the public. Once the opening of member registration started officially, the list of members had reached hundreds in a single day. 

 The park was equipped with new outdoor educational playgrounds, a mini library and a reading corner. In addition, there were gazebos and stages that were built permanently.

 The smart park will be inaugurated by the mayor early sunday morning next month, and in the evening there will be a performance of reading poetry by artists and figures. The mayor had moved the monthly art stage to this place.

 The change of location for the stage was, of course, ordered by one powerful and rich man. Whom Maya and Rahmat were afraid of.
 Rahmat and Maya's battle stage was at a place run by Shasha and environmental and educational activists.

 An environment that Regina disliked and that Maya had to like as a mayoral candidate.
 Maya Agustin was surprised, the theme of the art stage was completely different from what they made known to her.

 For all the guests who would read the poetry later, they arranged the clothes or costumes to be used, it must be natural and simple. Of course, without make up. Maya without make-up, what would she do? She had already appeared in full make up and luxurious clothes.

 As for Regina, she, who initially wanted to be present to accompany her mother, chose not to resign. Even though the area had been transformed into a beautiful park, it still smelled of garbage and burning smoke, and lots of mosquitoes too. 

 Maya Agustin was back to search for suitable poetry and costumes to suit her while still presenting her as a beautiful and simple figure.
 It turns out she had to spend tens of millions to keep herself looking simple and natural with a costume that was both simple and charming.

 Meanwhile, Shasha and the surrounding community people worked together to make art stage decorations from recycled materials from their localities.

 It seemed that their activities were secretly covered and made viral on social media in a massive and structured manner. In an instant Shasha became a virtual world star who was most talked about recently and topped the list of searches on the internet for 2 weeks nonstop.

 Someone had arranged news on the internet and paid netizens with hundreds of accounts with names that were clearly fake.

________

¹ Rukun Tetangga (RT) is a community organization that is recognized and fostered by the government, which is tasked with assisting the government development at the village level.


² Rukun Warga (RW) is the term for the division of the territory under the village level..  Rukun Warga (RW) is a Community Institution formed through deliberation by the Rukun Tetangga (RT) management in its working area in the framework of government and community services recognized and fostered by the Regional Government as determined by the Head of the Village.

The core principle of poetry was the usage of level and oblique tones.
As long as the same principle applied, Xu Qian's nine years of education from the future would give him an edge.
Xu Xinnian glanced at Xu Qian and raised his chin. "A bird in the sky, a worm on the ground, the bird swooped down, the worm flew up."
Xu Lingyue covered her mouth as she giggled. Xu Qian glared at her and she looked down, her cheeks pink.
'I want to punch him for spitting such poison…' Xu Qian gritted his teeth. The poem was written by the host when he was ten years old. That year, his aunt's father had come to teach the children the basics of literature.
The topic of poetry was touched upon and thus the ridiculous poem was born.
Li Ru said mockingly, "Ningyan, not that I want to look down on you but the Xu family only birthed one scholar and that is Little Nian. You and your uncle's penmanship can be equated to a squiggly worm. You want to craft a poem when you can't produce a legible writing?"
She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes as a noblewoman would.
Xu Pingzhi coughed awkwardly. "Ningyan, let's not interfere with the scholar's affairs. Today is an off day, let's train in the courtyard."
His words were a discouragement to Xu Qian, effectively telling him to stay out of the scholar's business lest he embarrassed his uncle.
Xu Qian said nonchalantly, "Thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the day."
His aunt rolled her eyes and ate her porridge.
His uncle wiped away the stains on his youngest daughter's lips.
Xu Xinnian frowned. A single sentence was not poetry but he was surprised Xu Qian could come up with such a proper seven-character sentence[1].
"The north wind stirs the geese and snow."
The line evoked a strong imagery in Xu Xinnian's mind. He was stunned.
Xu Lingyue raised her head. Her soulful eyes were transfixed on her cousin.
Xu Qian picked up his bowl of porridge and kept his lips sealed.
"What's the continuation?" Xu Xinnian asked. This was akin to a storyteller stopping at the climax of the story, a cliffhanger for everyone at the teahouse. Tune in for the next episode to know more.
It was incredibly frustrating.
"I don't know how to compose poems." Xu Qian threw a fleeting look at his aunt. She was a dignified woman with no intentions of apologizing.
Li Ru's animated eyes widened as she turned to Xu Xinnian and asked, "Is the poem good?"
Xu Lingyue replied softly, "It has an artistic flair to it." 
She had limited access to education but she could tell the poem was superb.
Xu Pingzhi was surprised by his children's responses. He turned to look at Xu Qian with a glint of hope and expectation in his eye.
Xu Qian chewed on his breadstick and effortlessly recited the last two lines of the poem. "Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm."
The chopsticks in Xu Xinnian's hand fell onto the table.
He repeated the lines and felt himself being enchanted by the poem's meaning.
Xu Lingyue shuddered as goosebumps appeared on the back of her hand.
Xu Pingzhi bit his lip and said, "Man, the poem gave me the chills."
Li Ru was in concordance with her husband but a part of her still disapproved of Xu Qian.
Poetry could elicit a reaction even in those outside the craft. One did not need to know about the level and oblique tones to appreciate the beauty of a poem that had been passed on for centuries.
Xu Qian understood their wonderment as he was once similarly taken aback by the rich poetry that filled his language textbook.
"Thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the day. The north wind stirs the geese and snow. Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm."
Xu Xinnian rose from his seat as a red blush colored his cheeks. The color made the handsome young man look charming.
The poem was exceptional!
Although poetry was not his strong suit, as a scholar, one was inclined to drink and wax poetic with other scholars. Good poetry would get them hammering a beat and rhythm as they sang passionately.
"Wh-When did you learn to compose poems?" Xu Xinnian stared at Xu Qian with bright, curious eyes.
Xu Qian chuckled and said, "I never said I couldn't. The poem from ten years ago cannot represent my skills today. I've always had talent for poetry but I never showcased it."
"So Ningyan was scholar material. If I had known, I would have sent you to study and Cijiu to martial arts lessons," Xu Pingzhi said with a grin.
His wife was unhappy with the situation but could not think of any smart retorts.
'No, if that had happened, none of us would have succeeded in life.' Xu Qian knew the host was a horrible student who would rather do hard labor.
Xu Xinnian also had no talent for martial arts. He was a delicate and frail boy who would not be able to handle the strenuous physical training that occasionally even involved weapons.
"Well, Ningyan wrote this poem. Cijiu, I'm sure you'll come up with your own. Copying is not a scholar's way," Xu Pingzhi said.
Xu Xinnian let out a huff, annoyed that his father thought he would plagiarize. He turned to Xu Qian and said, "Can I borrow your poem? I will name you as the poet."
'More like the plagiarizer.' Xu Qian nodded. "Go on, show it off."
A scholar's work had to be witnessed and acknowledged by others.
Xu Qian had intended for Xu Xinnian to use the poem to impress the Confucian elder. He cared not about who gets the writing credits.
Xu Qian was not a scholar so the poem was not useful to him. It was also why he did not use his literature knowledge for the past month.
His working environment was not suited for poetry.
He spent his day with a bunch of sword-wielding, gun-toting constables. Reciting poems to them was useless, he might as well teach them to sing 'The Lasso Boy'.
"The title of the poem?" Xu Xinnian asked.
Xu Qian froze. He had forgotten the title. "This poem is from my heart and has no name. Just speak it as such."
…
When breakfast was over, Xu Xinnian came out from the backyard with his father's favorite horse and rushed off for the farewell. Uncle and nephew engaged in sparring in the courtyard.
"Good. Your moves have improved. The next step would be Qi training. Qi requires the heavens and earth to interact for its birth." Xu Pingzhi took the towel offered by the servant and wiped his sweat. "Besides a herbal bath, you'll have to find someone with seventh-rank divinity to open Heaven's Gate. Else, you will never be able to unlock your Qi."
Divinity was the seventh rank in the path of a martial artist.
Xu Qian wiped his forehead and asked, "Uncle, what are you saying?"
"After the Battle of Shanhai Pass, my sacrifice and merit earned me a favor from the army's expert who opened the Heaven's Gate, allowing me to enter the realm of Qi. A year after the battle, I had Xinnian," Xu Pingzhi sighed. "The world today is peaceful, hence there'll be less chance for you to prove your worth. How will you achieve Qi training? Will you not marry and build a family? Ningyan, I'm getting old. My only wish is to see you married with children, only then will I be able to face your late father."
"One step at a time, uncle," Xu Qian replied half-heartedly.
Other than earning merit and proving his worth, money was also a viable option.
The herbs and the expert could be bought with money.
The imperial courts had strict control over the numbers of martial artists as they could use their skills for crime. The laws dictate the seventh-ranked divinity experts were not allowed to open the Heaven's Gate for any random person. They had to report to the courts even if they were doing it for their son.
However, the moral fabric of Dafeng was thin at that time. Corruption was rampant among the officials and the imperial courts' power wanes with each passing day. While no one dared to break the law in broad daylight, several experts offered their services in the black market.
Xu Qian just had to make enough money—the silvers would be equivalent to a meritorious deed.
Otherwise, he would forever be stuck in the refinement state while his penis wilted away.
His aunt brought her daughters over. They stood under the roof of the corridor. "The sun is out today, why don't you take Lingyin and Lingyue out to the markets?"
Xu Pingzhi frowned. "I have something on."
"Isn't today a rest day?"
"I'm meeting some colleagues soon. How about Ningyan take them out?"
The daughters of families with a literary reputation were closely guarded and not allowed to roam as they pleased.
The Xu family was a martial arts family, therefore the sisters' upbringing was not as strict.
Xu Qian turned around and met the clear and bright eyes of his teenage cousin. Appearance-wise, Xu Lingyue had surpassed her mother and more. She chewed her lip and looked away shyly.
He nodded and said, "I have nothing on anyways."
'I once brought a 16-year-old girl out shopping in my previous life. I was in my prime at the age of 18. Of course, the girl in my memories is not comparable to Xu Lingyue.'
[1] A seven-character quatrain is a form of poetry.


Once a police academy graduate—Xu Qian, woke up and found himself in jail. He was to be banished to the borderlands in three days...
Stuck in this inhumane society, his initial goal was just to be a rich man and pass his days in relative safety.
…
Many years later, Xu Qian recalled the events of the past. His enemies and friends were dead, there was nothing of them left but bones.
The rolling Yangtze River flows east as the waves wash away the heroes. 
Success or failure, wrong or right; matters little, it might?
The lush mountains remain while the sun sets every night.


Indian English Poetry is not just a branch of Indian literature in English. It is now an essential part of Indian- English literature. In fact, it primarily defines Indo-Anglian literature in the sense that in its birth, Indian-writing in English came to the force with a global recognition. Like American poetry, Indian English poetry is highly distinctive in various aspects.  It is not a product that sprang into being in a span of a few years or a few decades.  It is a well-furnished product, thoroughly polished from its raw state into its present having undergone an evolution for more than a century since its inception in the early nineteenth century.
 India is a multicultural, multi-lingual and multi-racial country and its varied regions, cultures, races, languages and religions contributed amply to the enrichment of Indian-English poetry. In the early nineteenth century, the poets were severely assaulted and mercilessly ridiculed for their so called anti-national Anglophile tendencies. They were condemned. Nevertheless, the Indian English Poet quite heroically, weathered all the humiliations, winning global recognition and reputation.
The evolution of Indian English Poetry makes an interesting history that goes back to pre-independence India and links it up to the Post-independence India. The various socio-cultural factors played a very significant role in shaping the sensibilities of the educated in India during this period. With the introduction of English language as the medium of instruction in schools, colleges and universities, the people in India came in contact with the whole world outside India and interacted with the intellectuals of different countries in the world. They grasped their country's position politically, socially and economically.
 
With Derozio, who  was a teacher in senior section of the Hindu college, there came a regeneration in Bengal with  "The Fakeer of Jungheera" which  is a long undulating poem where Nuleeni the heroine who is a young Hindu widow is on the verge of mounting the sacrificial pyre whom she never loved, thus escaped with the bandit Fakeer to his cave but with the twist Nuleeni's fear came true and Fakeer's life is lost when the army arrives at the abode of Fakeer and Nuleeni cradles him in her arms and dies together. Derozio thus depicted the inhumanity of sati, the false morality of the women and the hypocritical chanting of the brahmins.
Derozio's intense awareness of India's past glory manifests in many of his poems. In "To India my native land" Derozio goes to the extent of imagining India as a goddess beauty of the halo of her glory. Derozio  desires to review and recollect India's past with passionate devotion.
"well-let me dive to the depths of time,
And bring from out the ages, that have rolled
A few small fragments of those wrecks sublime"
Derozio's another sonnet, "The Harp of India" recalls the glory of the past of India through an image of the musical instrument which produced sweet sound once upon a time but is totally silent now:
'Thy music once was sweet-who hears it now?"
Recollecting India's rich heritage, he considers it his prime duty to regain the country's noble culture
"Those hands are cold—but if thy notes divine
May be by mortal wakened once again,
Harp of my country, let me strike the strain"
These sonnets are more attractive to the reader because of the theme of love, death, patriotism and Indianness respectively and the language being English in its medium which makes the line linger in the readers mind.
 
Toru Dutt represented a very crucial period of Bengal and her poetry shared the quality of being 'distinctively post-colonial'A major displacement in various aspects had occurred: change in religion, place and learning foreign languages like French and thus she translated many French works into English. "A sheaf gleaned in French fields"; the only book published during her lifetime brought her well deserved international acclaim.
Toru's seven miscellaneous poems put together at the close of 'Ancient Ballads' are more or less autobiographical and the experiences and the impression of the poetess in this poem is extremely personal.
The two sonnets 'baugmaree' and 'the lotus' have been praised by one and all. In the first the poetess displays her love for nature where he calls the garden as 'primeval eden' which is girt round with its sea of foliage and amidst it one is bound to feel refreshed and cheerful and is finely executed :
"One might swoon
Drunken with beauty then, or gaze and gaze
On a primeval eden, in amaze."
The lotus professes to give the origin of 'the queenliest flower that blows'. To end the strife whether the lily or rose were queen, psyche at last went to flora and asked for a flower that should be 'delicious as the rose and stately as the lily in her pride'. The result was the lotus, rose-red and lily white.
'Our Casuarina Tree'  expresses a poignant grief for the loss of her sister Aru and brother Abju recollected thought of the sight of the tree under whose shadow they played as children  are no more and might have reached to an 'unknown land' and thus wishes that the wail of the tree should reach them as she is confined to bed with her illness lying awake all night. The last stanza of the poem unfolds her desire for the immortality of the tree and thus ends like
'my love defend thee from oblivion's curse'
Toru Dutt's poetry intrinsically relate to a nation's language, to its life and tradition. Toru Dutt's poetry circulates between various literatures French, English, and Sanskrit that she read, wrote and translated and the Bengali tongue she was born into.
 
Prominent poets named henry Derozio, Toru Dutt, Tagore, Aurobindo, Vivekananda, and so on have stretched and refined the domains of Indian English poetry and the major elements in their works are nature, love, separation, Hellenism, nationalism, humanism and freedom which formed the framework of sensitive minds. They steeped in Indianness bit by bit and revealed the evolution of a unique poetic approach that probe the inner and outer world and exhibited immense ethical commitment to society.
 

Hearing Demian's teasing, Qiara immediately stopped, then turned to look at Demian cynically, immediately Demian shuddered in horror and hid behind Qiano's back.

"Ra, you go to school?". Asked Qiano who was trying to protect Demian from Qiara's anger.

"Are you stupid? You already know that I'm at school, why do you ask again?". Qiara replied expressionlessly. Qiano was silent at Qiara's reaction. Just then, one of their classmates shouted for Qiara's name.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you calling me screaming?". Qiara asked when her classmate was standing in front of her. "Earlier the BP teacher asked me to look for you, he said you were asked to immediately go to Bp's room right now". Obviously that classmate.

"OK!". Qiara said with a frown. After that she rushed to the BP room regardless of Qiano and Demian's confused expressions. 

Not long after, Qiara arrived at the BP room, politely Qiara entered after greeting her.

"Qiara, I apologize for suspending you who are innocent". Said Mr. Dodi after Qiara sat in front of him. "Are Mr. going to punish people who are really wrong?". Qiara asked anxiously.

"I won't!, Because this time I forgive your friend. But, next time I will not forgive you". Answer Mr. Dodi with a sweet smile.

Hearing Mr. Dodi, Qiara smiled as she wondered who Julian really was? Why is it so easy he changed his way of thinking Mr. Dodi is a famous killer and can't be bargained with.

"Thank you Mr.! Then can I come into the class?". Qiara asked politely. "Of course, now go back to your class!". Answered Mr. Dodi while inviting Qiara to enter her class.

Qiara cheered happily in her heart, after which Qiara immediately returned to her class with a big smile.

"Hi ...". Qiara appeared like a ghost which shocked her friends. "Is that Qiara? Isn't she again on suspension?" Mia asked with bulging eyes.

"Yes, it is indeed Qiara. Hi Ra ...". Said Lola as she waved her hand at Qiara.

Qiara smiled sweetly as she approached her friends.

"Aren't you currently on suspension ?, Why did you go to school?". Natasya asked in surprise after Qiara sat beside her.

"Hahaha ... I am Qiara Putri Senja, no one can suspend me now". Qiara replied arrogantly.

Hearing Qiara's words, all of her friends clapped their hands and congratulated her.

Not long after that, the classroom calmed down again after their language teacher entered.

"Okay! I will give you the task of making romantic poetry with the theme "true love". You must not copy paste or try to trick me, because I memorize many poems by famous poetry creators".

Hearing the word creating romantic poetry, Qiara felt short of breath because she had never read poetry in all her life, let alone create it.

"Do you understand?". Asked the teacher while hitting the table with a small glass which she always brought with her every time she entered Qiara's class because the class was famous for naughty children except for Qiano and a few other children.

"Yes, understand ...". All the students answered together with a rising tone of voice.

"Good. Then see you next week!".

Just when the teacher was an Indonesian teacher named Miss. Yuyun left the classroom, the bell rang, all the students immediately cheered and prepared to go home.

Before Qiano left, he glanced at Qiara who was chatting with her friends. He wanted to feel like he approached Qiara but he was embarrassed even though he wanted to ask whether or not they studied at Mr. Ujang house.

Feeling he didn't have a chance to approach Qiara, who had rushed out with her friends. Qiano chose to go home and forget about his promise to study together.

When she got home, Qiara immediately went into her room, suddenly the sound of her cell phone rang just as her mother entered her room.

"Unfortunately your cell phone sounds!". Renata said as she sat on the edge of Qiara's bed while watching Qiara take off her uniform. 

"Please pick up please Ma, while Mama is here! Because Qiara is busy taking off my uniform".

"OK!". Renata replied while reaching for Qiara's cell phone in the bag. Seeing that it was a Video call with the contact name "Old Man", Renata frowned.

Out of curiosity, Renata immediately picked up the video call. Seeing the person on the other side of the phone, Renata smiled bitterly, she did not expect that Qiara named her husband's contact with the name of an old man. Because of that, an idea occurred in Renata's head, she quickly pointed the cellphone towards Qiara who was busy changing her clothes.

"Honey, this is your husband, so mama uses a speaker, okay!". Renata said with a sly smile. After that she rushed out of Qiara's room and delayed asking Qiara something that was bothering her.

"Yes Ma. Just put it there! Qiara can still hear it!". Qiara replied without knowing that Renata had left her room.

"Sorry, honey if Mama tricked you !, But you are lawful for Julian, so he has the right to see you. Hehehe ...". Renata mind after leaving Qiara's room.

Qiara, who was busy looking for clothes to change and was still wearing underwear after taking off her uniform, didn't pay attention to the video call.

From across the phone Julian was visible. sit on the bed. He frowned at Qiara who only used underwear, even though the distance was a little far, Julian could still clearly see Qiara's back.

"Did you just come home from school?". Julian asked after a moment of silence.

Hearing Julian Qiara's voice sigh but still turned her back on her cellphone.

"Yes, just arrived".

"What are you doing?". Asked Julian trying to check whether Qiara realized or not with the video call.

"Mmmm ... lying down. Why ask questions?". Qiara replied curtly.

Hearing Qiara's answer, there was a smile on the corner of Julian's lips, he just understood that Qiara didn't know about the Video call.

"Okay then you rest! And quickly put on your clothes later you can catch a cold!". Said Julian with a small smile.

(MATURE CONTENT)

"Julian, what is the first night? People say, it is the night that most lovers await after marriage. What did you do that night?".
......................................................
Qiara Larez is a 17 year old girl who has a beautiful face. She has a dream to become a famous person in the future. However, a will threw her into the marriage with the young master who was her sister's future husband. 

"Getting married? Is Mama crazy? Qiara has just turned 17 years old and has a lot of dreams. Should I marry a man who is twelve years older than me?". Tears rolled down Qiara's face, because she did not expect that her mother would ask for things that were never imagined.

"At least, you got married first. After that you can divorce and continue your dream!". Her mother answered without emotion.

Young Master Julian Al Vero is the heir to the JJ Group whose name always fills the first pages of internet sites and magazines.

He is handsome and powerful to the point where many women are crazy, but not Qiara, who has high ambitions, wants to become a famous gamer and painter.

For Qiara, Julian is just a dust that is not important and of course she really hates it because he has taken away her youth.

"This is just a secret marriage!". Said Julian with a cold expression because he was also forced to do this marriage. Married to a little girl is he crazy ?.

"Fine, I'll marry you!". Qiara replied, grinning disdainfully at Julian.

Will Qiara be able to make her dream come true and divorce Julian as she wishes? Or maybe the other way around ?.

~ Part Two ~

Because she wants to live a better life, Qiara is forced to disguise herself as someone else and hide her identity. 

Unfortunately, when she wanted to meet her son, she was not even recognized even though she had already told him that she was his mother. 

Besides that, her half-siblings are always looking for trouble with her and trying to take away what she has.

This is the sweet and bitter story of a teenager who is not yet married and has high dreams of becoming famous but is forced to be tied in the net of marriage. 

If you like this story, keep it in your library.

And if you think this story is very interesting, then ask for your support by giving a power stone so that I will be excited to publish the story.

Thank you!

Enjoy!


Also read my other works!

1. Come And Hug Me
2. Flowers Of Evil.
3. Flash Marriage With Perfect Result.
4. Marriage To An Heir

Instagram. @azzahra_tina

A BEST SELLING AUTHOR ON AMAZON for Poems Book 1, Poems Book 3, Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book One AND You Can Lose Weight Just Like Me – From 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story











D.S.PAIS










Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book Three












Copyright 2019 D. S. Pais
Amazon Edition



ALSO BY D.S.PAIS


Best Sellers:
Poems Book 1, Poems Book 3, Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book One AND You Can Lose Weight Just Like Me – From 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story





Rescue
Diane
Tiene
Rescue Book 2: Giselle
Matters of the Heart
An Unlikely Christmas
The Spell of an Irresistible Woman
The silhouette in the picture









Self - Help:
How to Identify My Greatest Passion in Life
A PRAGMATIC Method to face repeated failures
The METHOD





Poetry:
Poems Book 2, Poems Book 4, Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book Two








Acknowledgements:






I dedicate this book to my family, relatives and friends who have been an inspiration in my life to continue with my work, in particular my husband Brayan, my children, Gavin and Glen.

I am indebted to my readers, because of whom I derive my inspiration to keep writing.

There are women who continue to inspire me in my life and this book is dedicated to them.

In this book, tributes have been written to the following ten women who made an impact in society: Mary Shelley, Catherine the Great, Vera Atkins, Cleopatra, Elizabeth Fry, Mary Anning, Joan of Arc, Isabella of Castile, Catherine of Siena and Wangari Maathai



















Selected comments for other books:


"Hello DSPais, thank you for this nice short sensible book. I bought your kindle for 99 cents and have already read it in ten minutes! I really like your approach of creative visualization. I weighed 91 kg and reduced to 72 kg but have increased back to 78 kg now, so am interested in ways to reinforce good diet and practice psychology of weight loss, especially just reducing amount of food. I will try your recipe of apple cider vinegar before meals. Reading your short book has helped me to focus my mind on good habits."
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story.

"An ideal book for any normal person, who wants to lose weight. Steps mentioned can be followed by any one, who has the desire to lose weight. Overall a good one."
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story.

"Read Matters of the Heart today. Beautifully written."
Book: Matters Of The Heart.

"Reading the Repeated Failures Book. Found a few good points".
Book: A PRAGMATIC Method to face repeated failures

"I read your book; it is nice in the way people can relate to as people face the same issues in their everyday life"
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story

"I read your book on how to lose weight…..so nicely written. All your steps are very easy and normal to follow."
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story

"It's really great that you did this… both the weight loss and the book. Very admirable."
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story

"For a nice experience, turn to Beauty of the Night Surrounds Me, where we find this: "When the Sun has worn her evening gown; /The wind is gushing her wings /and around me, the lark sings. I should also mention Journey of an Individual, which is about meeting after a long-distance relationship.  Pais is from a culture different from mine, and this poem gives an insight into another world view – which, like yours and mine, includes love and hope."
Book: Poems Book One

"Ten poems is a small taste of a promising writer. I will content myself with a couple of comments. The opening poem, An Odd Encounter with Fate, is a narrative of how a relationship that seems a total non-starter can later catch up with both individuals. For a tough poem, turn to Infidelity. Here Pais begins to reach into your gut. Finally, Season of Love is a nice and gentle romantic poem. I should mention that Pais generally rhymes, exactly or closely. For those who prefer careful stanzas, that is a plus you will get from this book."
Book: Poems Book Two

"Now, let's go into what I enjoyed about "Poems." This short collection did what many others have not, and what many short stories try to do but aren't able to do; it made me feel. These poems individually but collectively made me feel so much. If you have ever felt love and know the joy and pains of what it is to love someone, then the first one is touching. I do not think D.S wrote either poem one or poem four for that matter, about the type of people I lost that I loved and that this poem reminded me of. I think hers was intended more romantic and less the love I had for the family members I miss. But there is this line at the end that touched my soul near the end and reminded me immediately of the pain of the loss of love that I still shoulder. With everything taken into consideration with my math, I'm Scoring "Poems" with a score of 92/100. That is a five-star review on Goodreads and Amazon."
Book: Poems Book One

The author lays out clearly the steps that aided her in losing weight. It is easy to follow and the suggestions are easy to implement into your daily life. The book gives you exactly what the author intended to and that is to provide insight on what worked for her.
Book: You can lose weight just like me – from 85kg to 68kg – A Real Life Story

This novella is quick, sweet romance. Kate was with her boyfriend for two years in a dead end relationship. A chance sighting at a job interview places Kate at her dream job and in the presence of her future. She meets Ernst who is seemingly living a double life. Fate draws them together for a HEA. The story was told from a third party point of view. It was very descriptive and the plot was clear and easy to follow. While you knew the plot and where it was going, at times the wording was very stilted, which could lead to some confusion when reading. This also made it difficult for me to connect with the characters and truly invest in the story.
Book: Matters Of The Heart.

The ladies of importance well chosen. The simple words of yours to give them glory, well written.
Book: Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book One























Dedicated to the spirit of freedom and determination

























Poetry on Inspiring Women -Book Three




















Contents








• A Dream Writer
• The Star of the North
• Lady Spy
• I will not be led in a triumph
• Angel of Prisons
• She sells seashells
• The maid of Orleans
• The Queen of Castile
• Doctor of the Church
• The Nobel Peace Prize Environmentalist












A Dream Writer

(In praise of Mary Shelley)





She had a thirst for knowledge and a mind that persevered
A prompt from Byron to write a ghost story, she considered
Morning after morning when all she replied with a negative
It was from one of her wakeful nights, a story she would give

She saw her ghost fable in front of her eyes, with signs of life
She was frightened and spent the night in uneasy wakerife
She began writing her dream and it became "Frankenstein"
She realised that she had stepped out from childhood wherein


When two of her children met with unexpected death
She turned to writing, weeping and holding her breath
She channelled her thoughts on her political freedom
She came up with novels and plays in creative wisdom

She financially aided the women whom society disapproved
It was not in boast, but simple justice that she was moved
She was a political radical throughout her life with empathy
She reformed the society through cooperation and sympathy














The Star of the North

(In praise of Catherine the Great)





Her coronation was one of the main treasures along with cadastres
The Russian Empire extended a little over 2 million square kilometres
Russia emerged as the dominant leader, defeating mighty powers
The Glory of Catherine amidst victories ushered in like thundershowers

She was the pioneer for Russia as an international mediator in disputes
League of Armed Neutrality was one of her key mediation attributes
Industries rose in textiles and ironworks with serfs during her reign
Russian economy, modernized by Volga Germans who were foreign

For funding military needs Government paper money was issued
Assignation Bank and its bank branches were thus pursued
In arts, literature and education, she had earned a reputation
Contributed to comedies, memoirs, encyclopaedia's proliferation

Leading economists became members of Free Economic Society
She recruited scientists to the Russian capital for scientific satiety
In her Nakaz, she issued codes to address modernisation trends
"The Star of the North" in 500 districts and 50 provinces she propends

She was a great patron of Russian opera, culture and arts
With head held high and regal costume, she won over hearts
She conferred "Charter of the Towns" and "Charter to the Nobility"
Her legal innovations bolted Russia to the phase of hypnotisability



Catherine the Great became Russia's longest ruling female leader
She was influenced by modernism and was a conceptualizer
The Catherinian Era was famed the Golden Age of Russia
The enlightened queen revitalised the country in nostalgia

















Lady Spy

(In praise of Vera Atkins)





She began her work in the French section of the SOE as a secretary
She became a de facto intelligence officer as deemed necessary
She recruited and deployed British agents in occupied France
She awaited decoded transmissions sent by them furtherance

Known for her steel-trap intelligence and fierce loyalty absolute
She stood on the runway to watch each take off in a parachute
While Hitler was unaware of Atkin's street smart brilliance
The F Section was equivalent to fifteen division's endurance

She was ardent in the search for F Section's 118 missing agents
Ensured that they were widely recognized for their achievements
In the world of spies, the tight-lipped, outspoken lady was the boss
The Knight of the Legion of Honour was grieved with tremendous loss

In this book, tributes have been written to the following ten women who made an impact in society: Mary Shelley, Catherine the Great, Vera Atkins, Cleopatra, Elizabeth Fry, Mary Anning, Joan of Arc, Isabella of Castile, Catherine of Siena and Wangari Maathai

"I won't marry you!" Selene fumed, pushing him away. How could he say something so audacious and bold out of nowhere?

"Why?" Grand Duke Thornov calmly asked, unfazed.

"Because we're no longer children making foolish promises," Selene hissed. She would never, ever forgive him for what he did. The betrayal was simply too much for her.

Grand Duke Thornov's gaze hardened. "Are you still speaking about the past?"

"Of course," Selene spat. "How can such a horrible thing be easily forgotten?"

"I did it for your sake," Grand Duke Thornov asserted with an edge to his voice.

"No, you did it for your own sake, selling me off like a scapegoat," Selene spat out. 

Selene began walking up the staircase. "Don't make foolish comments anymore, Killian. We're nothing but strangers."

"Let's get to know each other then," Grand Duke Thornov immediately said. "Like we used to."

Selene shook her head. She refused to let herself fall for a trap like this again. She had trusted her heart to a childhood friend and he trampled it. Now, another childhood friend was asking her to do the same. 

"No, I've made up my mind," Selene suddenly stated, her voice becoming heartless. 

"Sounds like a dangerous thing you've just done," Killian responded, humored by how quickly she changed.

"No more political marriages. No more marriages for power. The only way I'd marry is for love," Selene said, leaving no room for argument.

Grand Duke Thornov's frigid eyes melted, for a split second, before he became more aloof. 

"We had love before," Killian asserted.

"And then you ruined it," Selene returned.

As impossible as it seemed, Selene wouldn't settle for anything less. She wanted a relationship like her mother and father, who supposedly had the greatest love story of all—until she was born.

"We can rebuild it," Killian aloofly told her, his face going blank at her words.

Suddenly, Selene missed the warmth he had, but felt like a fool for feeling that way. 

"So what do you like to do in your free time?" Killian asked, forcing a curt smile.

Selene wondered if he had ever smiled up at something. She was standing two steps higher than him, looking down at a Duke who had all the wealth and power in the world. His cold expression turned to spring only in front of her.

"My free time?" Selene echoed, staring at him like he was crazy. 

Grand Duke Thornov could have everything and anything in the world. His word was law, his wish a rule, and his desire attainable. What the hell was he doing, asking her such a bizarre question? 

"I guess…" Selene trailed off, trying to remember her hobbies before becoming the Crown Prince's fiancée. 

Selene couldn't think of much. Perhaps flower arrangements for a tea party? Organizing the guest list for a banquet? Shouldering the Crown Prince's documents and responsibility? Drinking wine glasses for the Crown Prince, so he wouldn't get drunk?

"Surely, this simple question isn't that hard to answer?" Killian mused, quirking a brow at her.

Selene tried to ignore how handsome he looked, his smile deepening. This man always left her speechless. His arrogance, his shamelessness, everything he did make people look at him. It also didn't help that he had hair so dark, it was nearly the color of midnight, and molten copper eyes.

"I guess I used to enjoy writing poetry..." Selene admitted. 

"Poetry?" Grand Duke Thornov deadpanned, looking at her in surprise. "It doesn't have anything to do with your bizarre scripts for when all three of us played 'house.'" 

Selene's chest panged at his words. The three of us. How could she forget her beautiful youth? When they were children, Killian and her were good friends with the Crown Prince. At least, Selene was, but Killian was always nonchalant.

"But I haven't written a collection in years," Selene lightly laughed, tucking the hair away from her face, suddenly realizing she hadn't told this hobby to anyone. 

"Why?"

"I just…" Selene trailed off, hoping to hide the pain from her voice. "I just lost inspiration and motivation for it. Nowadays, I can't think of new poetry. When I try to be creative, my mind goes blank."

Grand Duke Thornov was surprised by this. She used to be one of the most creative women he has ever known. Wasn't she the trendsetter of society? With her bold fashion and creative mouth?

"You make it sound like poetry traumatized you," Grand Duke Thornov chuckled. "How can words hurt you?"

Selene thought back to the Crown Prince's crude comments. The way he tore her apart, criticized her writing, deeming it crazy for her imagination to run wild. 

Then, Selene remembered all the hard work and heart-felt emotions she poured into poetry. The sleepless nights, the ache of her hand, meeting deadlines of her publisher. 

It was difficult for a woman of her era to write poetry, much less secure a publisher, so she had worked herself to the bone for little to no return. It was even harder to hide her identity and maintain a career.

"Words hurt a lot more than you think," Selene said with a slight laugh. "Words are your best weapons."

Grand Duke Thornov smirked at this. Indeed, it was. "And you seem to wield that weapon the best."

Selene threw him an amused glance. "My father used to tell me you've won the war if your words were enough to make someone weep."

"No doubt, Duke Denovia has made many men cry with his words."

Selene blinked at this. Yes, including his daughter. But she kept that gloomy comment to herself. Thinking about her father suddenly made her heart prick and she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

Their conversation was so engrossing, she had forgotten they were standing in the middle of the staircase.

"The sun is setting," Selene suddenly said. "It's best for you to return to your manor, Grand Duke. We don't need rumors to spread."

"I hope they spread far and wide," Killian said.

"I hope your carriage breaks down then," Selene retorted.

"I pray for the same, so I can inconvenience you and stay over."

Selene dryly looked at him. His humor was skewed. "Are you bent on destroying my reputation, my liege?"

She paused. "Well, whatever is left to destroy, anyways."

Grand Duke Thornov slowly shook his head. He grabbed her hand, catching her by surprise. Before she could pull it back, he bowed over her head and kissed her knuckles.

"Marry me and there will be plenty of reputation to destroy."

Was he saying he could restore her reputation? She swallowed. It was tempting. But her fear of failure was high. What if the people did not welcome her back? What if high society shunned her? What if she didn't want to go back to high society?

She had lost her confidence once. She didn't want to lose it again.

"You and I will make a terrifying couple," Grand Duke Thornov said. "Together, we can conquer this country if you wish."

What?

Selene looked at him, surprised. He wasn't speaking of treason was he?

Grand Duke Thornov's lips slowly spread at her surprised expression. "Do you wish to be a Crown Princess again, Selene?"

She pulled her hand back. "No."

"Oh?"

"I wish to be the Queen."

Grand Duke Thornov's eyes flashed. His smile was sinister, yet sober. "Marry me, and your wish will come true."

Selene swallowed. She retracted up the stairs, and he continued to look up at her, like a man worshiping a goddess before a temple. 

Selene couldn't understand why he was looking at her like that. This almighty warrior of the battlefield looked at her like she was the key to ending a war.

"It will be treason," Selene quietly said. "To dethrone the Crown Prince. They're royalty for a reason. You must know by now. They're Werewolves… Humans can't beat them."

Yes, humans couldn't beat them, but Grand Duke Thornov wasn't human, and neither was the majority of his army.

Grand Duke Thornov's eyes flashed. "Don't tell me, after everything he did to you, treason isn't high on your list?"

Selene wanted to kill the Crown Prince for his adultery, but she kept that comment to herself. She developed trust issues because of his previous actions.

"It's time for you to return to your estate, my liege," Selene said, addressing him by a title that'd draw the line between them. 

Although Selene's father was a Duke, Killian was a Grand Duke, meaning he was next in line for the throne if the Crown Prince died. A Duke was the highest ranking in society, but still beneath that of a Grand Duke.

Killian saw right past her confidence. He could still see the little girl from his childhood, lonely and afraid. 

"Do you fear I will take another woman as my Queen when I seize the throne?" Grand Duke Thornov asked.

Selene was left speechless. Her heart had been broken by Killian and trampled into dust by the Crown Prince. She was too terrified of falling in love again. The walls around her were high, her trust alarmingly low, and her faith nonexistent.

"I am fearful of another betrayal from you," Selene bluntly said, watching his hands twitch and a storm cloud roll over his darkening expression. The truth hurt, didn't it?

"I will not do that to the mother of my child, Selene." His voice became sharp and fierce, causing her to recoil.

Selene stared at him. So this was what it was about. He still thought she was pregnant with his baby. 

"Don't be absurd, my liege," Selene gritted out. "I told you I am not pregnant!"

"We can't be too sure," Grand Duke Thornov calmly said. "Let me take you to my family Doctor—" 

"I am infertile, you imbecile!"

"The day he left me was the day I died... of happiness, of course!"

Duke Killian Thornov, best known as the war demon. 
One look at him, and you know you've lost the battle.
He is the strongest Vampire alive.

Lady Selene Denovia, known as the villainess of the empire and the Crown Prince's ex-wife. Imprisoned at home, a rumor about her runs rampant in the town. She can only leave if she gets married.

But at what cost? And to who?
The Crown Prince or the Duke?

+ + + + +

Some say every romance story in history tries to mimick the Vampire Prince and his bride. Some of those love rise, grow, and die. Others turn into true love. But none of them, would ever compare to the Vampire Prince and his human bride.

+ + + + +

WARNING:
STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT.
STRONG LANGUAGE.

This book is a prequel to "His Majesty's Devious Sins," but it's a STAND ALONE NOVEL, meaning you DON'T have to read to "His Majesty's Devious Sins" understand the story.

The book will contain a lot of HUMOR but it's also very LEWD and like all of my stories, will NOT have rape or horrible male leads. 

Instagram: Xincerely_Author
Follow me on Instagram for moodboards, unseen clips of the characters, fanart, and so much more!

This original novel is found exclusively on Webnovel.com and published by Xincerely.



This was arrogance, perhaps, or possibly he was trying to make the new shadow stick to his own feet. The shadow on the floor lay quiet and still, and listened its best, so that it might learn how to get free and work its way up to be its own master. 

"Do you know who lived in the house across the street from us?" the old shadow asked. "She was the most lovely of all creatures - she was Poetry herself. I lived there for three weeks, and it was as if I had lived there three thousand years, reading all that has ever been written. That's what I said, and it's the truth! I have seen it all, and I know everything." 

" 

"Then I was in the anteroom," said the shadow. "It was the room you were always staring at from across the way. There were no candles there, and the room was in twilight. But the door upon door stood open in a whole series of brilliantly lit halls and reception rooms. That blaze of lights would have struck me dead had I gone as far as the room where the maiden was, but I was careful - I took my time, as one should." 

"And then what did you see, my old friend?" the scholar asked. 

"I saw everything, and I shall tell everything to you, but - it's not that I'm proud - but as I am a free man and well educated, not to mention my high standing and my considerable fortune, I do wish you wouldn't call me your old friend." 

"I beg your pardon!" said the scholar. "It's an old habit, and hard to change. You are perfectly right, my dear sir, and I'll remember it. But now, my dear sir, tell me of all that you saw." 

"All?" said the shadow, "for I saw it all, and I know everything." 

"How did the innermost rooms look?" the scholar asked. "Was it like a green forest? Was it like a holy temple? Were the rooms like the starry skies seen from some high mountain?" 

"Everything was there," said the shadow. "I didn't quite go inside. I stayed in the dark anteroom, but my place there was perfect. I saw everything, and I know everything. I have been in the antechamber at the court of Poetry." 

"But what did you see? Did the gods of old march through the halls? Did the old heroes fight there? Did fair children play there and tell their dreams?" 

"I was there, I tell you, so you must understand that I saw all that 

there was to be seen. Had you come over, it would not have made a man of you, as it did of me. Also, I learned to understand my inner self, what is born in me, and the relationship between me and Poetry. Yes, when I was with you I did not think of such things, but you must remember how wonderfully I always expanded at sunrise and sunset. And in the moonlight I almost seemed more real than you. Then I did not understand myself, but in that anteroom I came to know my true nature. I was a man! I came out completely changed. But you were no longer in the warm country. Being a man, I was ashamed to be seen as I was. I lacked shoes, clothes, and all the surface veneer which makes a man. 

"I went into hiding - this is confidential, and you must not write it in any of your books. I went into hiding under the skirts of the cake-woman. Little she knew what she concealed. Not until evening did I venture out. I ran through the streets in the moonlight and stretched myself tall against the walls. It's such a pleasant way of scratching one's back. Up I ran and down I ran, peeping into the highest windows, into drawing rooms, and into garrets. I peered in where no one else could peer. I saw what no one else could see, or should see. Taken all in all, it's a wicked world. I would not care to be a man if it were not considered the fashionable thing to be. I saw the most incredible behavior among men and women, fathers and mothers, and among those 'perfectly darling' children. I saw what nobody knows but everybody would like to know, and that is what wickedness goes on next door. If I had written it in a newspaper, oh, how widely it would have been read! But instead I wrote to the people directly concerned, and there was the most terrible consternation in every town to which I came. They were so afraid of me, and yet so remarkably fond of me. The professors appointed me a professor, and the tailor made me new clothes - my wardrobe is most complete. The master of the mint coined new money for me, the women called me such a handsome man; and so I became the man I am. Now I must bid you good-by. Here's my card. I live on the sunny side of the street, and I am always at home on rainy days." The shadow took his leave. 

"How extraordinary," said the scholar.

A scholar come from the north and study at the south of the hottest place.
Read more to know.

This was arrogance, perhaps, or possibly he was trying to make the new shadow stick to his own feet. The shadow on the floor lay quiet and still, and listened its best, so that it might learn how to get free and work its way up to be its own master.

"Do you know who lived in the house across the street from us?" the old shadow asked. "She was the most lovely of all creatures - she was Poetry herself. I lived there for three weeks, and it was as if I had lived there three thousand years, reading all that has ever been written. That's what I said, and it's the truth! I have seen it all, and I know everything."

"

"Then I was in the anteroom," said the shadow. "It was the room you were always staring at from across the way. There were no candles there, and the room was in twilight. But the door upon door stood open in a whole series of brilliantly lit halls and reception rooms. That blaze of lights would have struck me dead had I gone as far as the room where the maiden was, but I was careful - I took my time, as one should."

"And then what did you see, my old friend?" the scholar asked.

"I saw everything, and I shall tell everything to you, but - it's not that I'm proud - but as I am a free man and well educated, not to mention my high standing and my considerable fortune, I do wish you wouldn't call me your old friend."

"I beg your pardon!" said the scholar. "It's an old habit, and hard to change. You are perfectly right, my dear sir, and I'll remember it. But now, my dear sir, tell me of all that you saw."

"All?" said the shadow, "for I saw it all, and I know everything."

"How did the innermost rooms look?" the scholar asked. "Was it like a green forest? Was it like a holy temple? Were the rooms like the starry skies seen from some high mountain?"

"Everything was there," said the shadow. "I didn't quite go inside. I stayed in the dark anteroom, but my place there was perfect. I saw everything, and I know everything. I have been in the antechamber at the court of Poetry."

"But what did you see? Did the gods of old march through the halls? Did the old heroes fight there? Did fair children play there and tell their dreams?"

"I was there, I tell you, so you must understand that I saw all that

there was to be seen. Had you come over, it would not have made a man of you, as it did of me. Also, I learned to understand my inner self, what is born in me, and the relationship between me and Poetry. Yes, when I was with you I did not think of such things, but you must remember how wonderfully I always expanded at sunrise and sunset. And in the moonlight I almost seemed more real than you. Then I did not understand myself, but in that anteroom I came to know my true nature. I was a man! I came out completely changed. But you were no longer in the warm country. Being a man, I was ashamed to be seen as I was. I lacked shoes, clothes, and all the surface veneer which makes a man.

"I went into hiding - this is confidential, and you must not write it in any of your books. I went into hiding under the skirts of the cake-woman. Little she knew what she concealed. Not until evening did I venture out. I ran through the streets in the moonlight and stretched myself tall against the walls. It's such a pleasant way of scratching one's back. Up I ran and down I ran, peeping into the highest windows, into drawing rooms, and into garrets. I peered in where no one else could peer. I saw what no one else could see, or should see. Taken all in all, it's a wicked world. I would not care to be a man if it were not considered the fashionable thing to be. I saw the most incredible behavior among men and women, fathers and mothers, and among those 'perfectly darling' children. I saw what nobody knows but everybody would like to know, and that is what wickedness goes on next door. If I had written it in a newspaper, oh, how widely it would have been read! But instead I wrote to the people directly concerned, and there was the most terrible consternation in every town to which I came. They were so afraid of me, and yet so remarkably fond of me. The professors appointed me a professor, and the tailor made me new clothes - my wardrobe is most complete. The master of the mint coined new money for me, the women called me such a handsome man; and so I became the man I am. Now I must bid you good-by. Here's my card. I live on the sunny side of the street, and I am always at home on rainy days." The shadow took his leave.

"How extraordinary," said the scholar.

(continue reading)

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