Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 461

Even with half his chest swathed in bandages from a gunshot wound, the potent masculinity and strength that oozed from his presence made Marguerite’s cheeks burn with an unbearable heat.

Her gaze inadvertently flickered to him, setting her heartbeat into an erratic sprint.

Frederick’s deep-set eyes flashed with impatience as he grumbled, “Drama queen.”

It was Marguerite who had insisted he undress, and now that he had, she was acting all bashful about it.

Despite being a mother and having braved various storms in life, Marguerite couldn’t seem to cure herself of blushing at the drop of a hat.

And his comment, “Drama queen,” snapped her out of her reverie. She lifted her eyelids sharply and said firmly, “Turn around. Your wound is on the back. How am I supposed to treat it like this?”

Frederick regarded her with a cool composure, his eyes shadowed beneath his brow. After a moment’s pause, he slowly turned away.

The bandages, soaked through with blood, were a stark and horrifying sight for Marguerite.

The wound was on his back, and his earlier agitation had caused it to reopen and bleed profusely. Even his discarded white shirt was spattered with stains of crimson.

Marguerite carefully unraveled the damp, heavy bandages, feeling as if a twist would wring out a pool of blood without any effort.

what truly chilled her to the bone was

muddled flesh and blood stung Marguerite’s eyes painfully.

her cheeks as if a

his wound closely, but now, seeing it in the harsh light of day, her heart twisted with a sharp pang

much must he hurt from such a grave

picked up a piece of medical gauze soaked

with pain, causing Marguerite to

laced with the sound of tears, Frederick looked over his shoulder at her, surprised. “Why are you

“It’s the

“Be careful.”

mumbled a subdued response, then applied the ointment even more delicately, afraid of causing

matter how gentle her touch, each time the medicine

Marguerite’s heart constricted tighter, her emotions swirling into turmoil.

love confession

had told her that Frederick had once loved her so deeply, it was almost

night, he had appeared before her, bloodied and wounded, and she had been terrified of losing him, almost wishing to die

their past

Marguerite realized how steadfastly she loved him and how she couldn’t bear the thought of losing

should try to win him back, to make the