webnovel

The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
498 Chs

So it's true that brides have to go into diet...

I gasped.

Well, for a second. I did feel it because even Angwi often pinched my cheeks these days, and Natha's hands liked to linger around my waist, rubbing my tummy. And Jade...liked to lay on my stomach, saying it felt like jelly.

"Is it bad?" I asked her worriedly.

"No, no--" Arta shook her head and stood up to approach me--who still had to be the part of le mannequin. "It's a sign that you become healthier, Young Master, and I like that. But--"

"...but?"

Arta stood in front of me, pulling on the hem of the half-made outfit to the front. "But it'll be difficult for the seamstresses if we have to constantly alter the sizing."

"Oh, that's right..."

"So, I would need you to stay within your current weight until the wedding--can you do that?" Arta grasped my cheek and looked keenly into my eyes. She looked so stern that all I could do was nod wordlessly. "Good--Miss Bridesmaid!"