The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 2021

He froze.

Looking at the girl who had suddenly thrown herself into his arms, Roger's mind went completely blank.

"Roger."

Stella buried her face in his neck, her tears hot against his skin. "I'm sorry," she whispered helplessly.

He took a breath.

Hearing her voice, Roger snapped back to reality. He stiffly stroked her hair, a mix of shock and pure joy rushing through him. "You're finally talking to me, huh?"

"I'm sorry..."

Stella tightened her grip on him. Her voice was strained, and though she hadn't wanted to cry, a heavy sob escaped the moment she opened her mouth. "Roger, I'm so sorry."

"I told you, it wasn't your fault."

Roger gently pulled back, his thumb brushing away the tears at the corners of her eyes. His touch was overwhelmingly tender.

"It is my fault."

Tears clung to her long, thick lashes. Her wide eyes were red from crying as she stared at him, stubborn yet heartbroken. "If it weren't for me, your hand wouldn't have gotten hurt."

He fell silent.

Seeing her tear-streaked face, Roger didn't have the heart to argue. He let out a soft sigh and patiently said, "How about this? You take your medicine first."

"It's time to change the dressing on my hand anyway. If it's not too much trouble, could you help me, Stella?"

She hesitated.

Stella looked at him with bloodshot eyes. After a moment of silence, she obediently swallowed her pills.

Roger called for a maid to bring the medical kit.

"Disinfect, apply the ointment, then wrap it in gauze."

Roger opened the kit and took out the necessary supplies, his eyes locked warmly on the girl. "If you're afraid, I can have someone else do it."

Afraid?

Stella didn't understand what he meant.

It wasn't until she unspooled the old gauze and saw his bruised, heavily swollen right hand that a sharp jolt of worry hit her.

She had applied ointment for him before.

It hadn't looked nearly this bad back then.

"Are you scared?"

He probably couldn't hide the extent of the damage to his right hand much longer, so Roger didn't bother avoiding the subject.

"No."

Stella shook her head. She picked up a cotton swab, opened the antiseptic and ointment, and gently cleaned the wounds.

Roger pumped some soap into her palms and turned on the faucet, adjusting it to warm water.

"Okay."

Glancing at her sticky hands, Stella obediently scrubbed them together.

With her head bowed, she didn't even notice that Roger had stepped up right behind her.

It wasn't until two arms wrapped securely around her waist—

Stella's body went rigid. She slowly raised her gaze, looking nervously through the vanity mirror at the man behind her. Her pretty lips pressed into a tight line.

"What are we going to do?"

Roger leaned down slightly, resting his jaw on her shoulder. His deep, velvety voice echoed in the small space.

*What?*

Stella didn't quite understand, struggling gently in his grasp.

Right now, her only concern was whether anyone outside could see them.

The two of them tangled up in the bathroom...

How was she supposed to explain this?

"The whole family knows you're my fiancée." Roger's lips curved into a smirk as he watched the blushing girl in the mirror. He let out a low chuckle. "If I don't bring you out there to see them, I'll never hear the end of it."