Ever since her amnesia, Arabella had dreamed every night, but this particular night—nestled in Frederick's arms with the scorching heat of their skin pressed together—she had slept exceptionally soundly.

When she finally woke, it was four in the afternoon. With only two hours remaining before Lady Mabel's banquet, Frederick had to wake her up.

After calling her name several times to no avail, he finally resorted to gently patting her cheek. "Sweetheart. Aerona."

Arabella smacked her lips and opened her eyes blearily. Still dazed, she stared blankly at the handsome man before her.

Frederick was already fully prepared, dressed with impeccable elegance. There was not a trace of the previous night's wild chaos left on him.

The luxurious black velvet suit complemented him perfectly, its silk sheen unrivaled and its buttons fashioned from genuine gemstones. The tailoring was superb, outlining his powerful, lean physique to perfection. On his chest, he wore a uniquely designed piece of jewelry—a swift with its wings spread wide.

His thick, ash-gold hair had been meticulously styled. Compared to his usual mature, steady gentleman's slick-back, this look was more dashing and high-spirited. He was dressed so formally and wore such a sexy, high-end woody cologne that he practically radiated brilliance, looking very much like... a groom headed to his own wedding.

"Are you feeling unwell anywhere?" Frederick asked, frowning slightly when he noticed the girl staring at him without even blinking.

His eyes darkened. "Aerona, if you're uncomfortable, you must tell me. The doctor is right outside."

Arabella blinked. "Are you getting married today?"

The question was entirely out of left field. Frederick paused, then laughed. "How can I get married today?"

Arabella pursed her lips and said nothing. The intensity of the previous night had practically driven away a third of her soul; she needed time to call it back.

Frederick assumed she was unhappy, lowered his voice to comfort her. "I'm anxious too, baby, but at least give me some time to prepare. Don't you want your wedding dress, the bouquet, the high heels, and the diamond ring? We can hold the wedding in Italy. Lake Como is beautiful, and we have an estate there. You'll love it."

Arabella's mind drifted far away.

Images from the previous night flashed uncontrollably through her head. They had moved from the bathroom to the window, to the sofa, and then to the soft bed... Frederick's arms as he lifted her were so powerful...

She remembered his mouth, which was sexy and capable of kisses that were both tender and ferocious, leaving her dazed. His tongue was an even more magical organ; whenever it moved slowly and gently over her, it felt like being in heaven. And of course... there was the "plus-size baguette" produced by Frederick's bakery.

Heavens!! What am I thinking! I'm a lady!

Arabella's face flushed crimson. She yanked the quilt up and buried her face inside.

Frederick was confused. "If you don't like Lake Como, we can go to Saint-Tropez or Monaco. They both have warm climates. Or we can go wherever you like. Just don't suffocate yourself under there; come out."

Arabella didn't care where it was. As long as she married Frederick, any location was the same.

The events of last night hadn't been a dream; they were real. They had made love, and now they were getting married!

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might explode. As the oxygen under the quilt began to run low, she suddenly burst out just as Frederick was about to pull the covers away, throwing her arms around his neck.

Caught off guard, Frederick was pulled down toward her. 

"Easy, little bird."

Arabella leaned in and gently bit his ear, whispering, "I'm extremely satisfied with you, Frederick."

Frederick smiled and hugged her back. "Is that so?"

"Mhm... anyway, the experience was wonderful. I'm very satisfied with you. You're very skillful, and you made me very, very happy. Also, I'm very satisfied with the 'baguette.' I like it. Let's do it again today!"

Even Frederick, usually unshakable and composed, was stunned by her bluntness. My little bird...

Frederick took a deep breath. As Arabella prepared to offer more praise, he covered her mouth. "Stop, Birdie. I get it. You are satisfied with me."

For the first time, Frederick felt like a piece of merchandise in a shop window that the Little Bird had bought. After a trial run, she found the results excellent and was now giving him a five-star review.

Previously, he had always been the buyer.

However, this "five-star review" also allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief.

After drinking a glass of warm fresh milk, Arabella felt energized.

Frederick leaned down to peck at her lips, but the moment they touched, he couldn't stop. A proper kiss followed, but halfway through, Arabella suddenly remembered something important. "Wait, how are Black and the others? And Minnie?"

Frederick steadied his breathing. "Black is fine. His leg was fractured, but it's been set. He'll be fully recovered after a month of rest. It's just Minnie's leg..." He frowned slightly.

Arabella's heart sank. "What's wrong?"

"That trap was designed for large beasts. It was powerful, and because it was clamped on for so long, the tissue in her leg has become necrotic. She is very likely to remain disabled."

He was being diplomatic, but the disability was already a certainty. Minnie was too small—only a year old—and her bones weren't fully developed enough to withstand such trauma.

Arabella froze, her amber-honey eyes clouding over. Anticipating her tears, Frederick stopped them before they could fall. "Don't cry, Birdie."

Arabella wanted to ask if it was her fault for not finding Minnie sooner, but the man before her seemed to know her better than she knew herself. With his God-like perception and wisdom, he interjected, "It isn't your fault. It has nothing to do with you. You are her savior; without you, she would have died. Now, she is alive. The trap was simply too sharp."

No, Frederick thought, it was actually because her owner was heartless enough to use her as a disposable lure and let her bleed out.