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... ing has to have power in their faction while the person that is accusing could be someone who knows a lot about the situation. Usually people people at the top would not come, they know too much

After the pope heard Haris, he nodded.

"Even if that’s true, your brother Reeva had been escorted back to the capital in a mobile prison. You are not involved in this event at all?"

"We are not involved in this incident at all, Reeva put himself into that position. He only monitor ...

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When Skye Moonstone’s wedding is interrupted by her former, supposedly deceased betrothed: her life becomes a series of complications, mystery, and excitement.

Knowing only of the boy that he used to be, Skye finds herself drawn to the man that Prince Tidas has become. Intelligent, strong, and charismatic; he had decided long ago to do whatever it takes to protect the love of his life. No matter the risk to his body or soul..

Throughout her many trials, Skye will learn that her home, family, and even personal history are all stories meant to keep her safe. That her true purpose is not just to save her love, but her entire world. The fates of both Humans and Fae alike will rest upon her shoulders..

Intrigue, legends, and her place in it all will lead Skye down a path that she knows she may not come back from. But to save the lives of her loved ones, she’ll risk her very existence..

Whatever it takes to save them.

Magic, Fae, War, Fate; they all reside within this epic love tale of fantasy. All can be found within the Dawning Skye.. One simply needs to look.

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Inexplicably, she had crossed over to the end of the 1970s and was thrown into the mountains. Fortunately, she is rescued by a handsome soldier. Only later does she discover that Brother Soldier is actually the unlucky male supporting role of a historical novel. He was used and deceived by the heroine in various ways and finally dumped on the grounds of the progressive new era not supporting arranged marriage.

Damn, will such a good Brother Soldier will still end up like that in the future? If the heroine doesn’t want him, then step aside and let me have a go.

But how will we live in a time that lacks modern food and clothing? Hey, I bring something different, now I can guide this male lead to be well-fed and make the heroine get mad.

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“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.