Doll Girl Meets Dead Guy

Doll Girl Meets Dead Guy Lidiya Foxglove Contents Foreword Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 More Romantic Fantasy from Lidiya! About the Author Foreword Peoples of the Hidden Lands If you hate long high fantasy world-building introductions, don’t panic. You don’t have to read any of this to proceed. Anything important is in the story itself. But if you’re the type of reader who likes to keep every little thing straight, or if you put this book down halfway through and didn’t pick it up again for months, you might appreciate this. The Hidden Lands has three humanoid races: The Miralem are telepathic and live in the north. They worship a moon goddess and have that classic fantasy vibe going on. Because of telepathy, men and women are fairly equal in the Miralem lands. You just can’t suppress a powerful telepath, so no one gets the upper hand. When it comes to how they treat non-telepathic races, they have a more spotty record. The Miralem have an alliance with the dragons, the only intelligent and telepathic beasts in the world, and they are spread across several kingdoms: Laionesse, Avalon, Otaré, Kota, and Halnari (who betrayed their fellow Miralem to ally with the Daramons). Their average lifespan is 120-150 years, as long as they have access to healers. The Daramons don’t have telepathy and rely only on sorcery. Many of them follow a spiritual leader known as the Wodrenarune, the Hand of Fate, who is said to be a great prophet. Throughout most of history, they were definitely the weaker race, with a shorter lifespan, but this began to change when the charismatic Kalan Jherin became the Wodrenarune about 140 years before the events of this novel. His people became known as the Kalanites. His most consequential act was the Ten Thousand Man Sacrifice, the most ambitious spell ever cast, when thousands of men gave their lives and blood to give a sort of invincibility to all Daramons. After the Ten Thousand Man Sacrifice, the blood of all Daramons was enchanted and would self-heal and preserve their lives in case of injury. Although far from perfect, this made Daramons much harder to kill, as they had to burn, explode, or otherwise lose a lot of blood. This spell affected all Daramons whether they were Kalanites or not, but there is one group of Daramons who live peacefully in the Miralem lands: the Ven-Diri, who follow a religion based on a pantheon of death gods and practice necromancy. Fanarlem, meanwhile, are not born but created, by Chapter One Sorla's hand trembled with excitement at the all-too-familiar gold seal on the letter. Her hopes had already spiked when she saw the twinkle in the eye of the mail courier. "Well, what’s the prince have to say this time?" Alem asked. The courier never hesitated to wait around for the opening of an interesting letter. Sorla didn't really mind his prying, because she liked everyone to know she had the favor of the handsome, young, eligible crown prince of Laionesse. What other girl could say that, especially a Fanarlem? Alem never pushed to hear the whole thing, he just wanted a tidbit. She slid her thumb under the seal and pulled it up, unfolding the envelope, savoring the moment. Her whole being quickened at the sight of the smooth and substantial cream-colored royal paper. Two thick pages poked out. The letters were never more than a page. Getting more excited by the minute, she skimmed it so she could give Alem his crumb of news and get rid of him, but as the words jumped out at her, she gasped. "He proposin'?" Alem teased. "He's offering me a job at the royal bakery!" Sorla shrieked, completely unable to contain herself. “Making pastry for him and the king and queen!" She clutched Alem's arm and shook it and he shook her right back. "Well! Our little town baker is going to be famous! So you're leaving us, just like that? No sympathies for the tastebuds of peasants?” "I have to! Oh, fates...oh, I have to..." Finally, a chance to make something of herself in a larger city. Now the back door of the cafe opened and Grau looked at her. "Is everything all right back here? Has someone sent us a bag of money? It'd damn sure come in handy." "No, Feirin--well, maybe, maybe in a sense, if…if things go well!” Alem gave Grau a friendly nod, getting the idea that it was time for him to spread the world all over town and let the Thanneau family handle their own business. "Is that from Prince Seldon?" Grau asked, with the tiniest hint of fatherly suspicion. "What is he saying? Why are you glowing? Do I have to make an assassination attempt?” Reality crashed in and Sorla realized that Grau and Velsa would be extremely reluctant to let her go to the capital, even at Seldon's invitation. They were very