Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 895

Marguerite had been sulking the entire way up the trail, ignoring the man completely. No matter what the kids said or did, she kept her head down and pressed forward, determined to avoid him, to keep her distance, to have nothing to do with him at all.

But somehow, that only made the uneasy knot in her chest twist tighter.

This stifled, frustrated feeling was so much worse than when Maurice used to force her to look after him—it was a hundred, a thousand times more intense.

Why did she care this much? That couldn’t be a good sign.

Marguerite realized, with a jolt, that her emotions now seemed entirely tangled up with Silas. And Silas was not Frederick; she absolutely refused to let herself fall into that trap again.

The mountain path wasn’t especially steep, but the hike was long. By the time Marguerite and Hayes finally reached their tented hotel, the sun was beating down at its fiercest.

She was drenched in sweat, so exhausted she lost her appetite entirely. All she wanted was a shower. She slipped into her room, washed away the grime and heat, then collapsed onto the bed.

Through the transparent ceiling, she could see the endless blue sky. Outside, a camphor tree cast a deep green shade over the rounded edge of the tent, keeping the harsh sunlight at bay. For a moment, everything felt peaceful and comfortable.

Hayes soon came to fetch her for dinner, but the mere thought of facing Silas again sent another wave of frustration crashing through her. She shook her head and declined, burrowing into the blankets for a nap instead.

The climb had truly wiped her out; Marguerite didn’t just nap—she slept straight through to nightfall.

When she finally woke, her body felt sticky and overheated, sweat clinging to her skin.

Hayes was sprawled at the bedside, his bright eyes fixed on her as he asked, “Mommy, you’ve slept all day. Aren’t you hungry? Want to go out for something to eat?”