In a humble retort, Millie replied, “No, he carries his own imperfections. Perfection eludes us all

“Even Marcus possesses flaws? Pray, what are they?”

Grace’s inquisitiveness surged, disbelief mingling with her desire not to miss out on this savory revelation.

Millie’s gaze alighted upon Marcus, engrossed in his work, a hint of hesitation weaving through her thoughts. Aware of Grace’s knack for delving deep, she treaded cautiously.

What vulnerabilities rested within Marcus’ being? Millie’s fingers absently traced her neck, her mind wrestling to conjure an answer. In the end, she fabricated a random imperfection,

“Take for instance his inability to cook, a glaring flaw. Culinary prowess is a vital aptitude, particularly in these rustic lands. A maiden bereft of culinary skill faces hurdles in securing a marital bond. Accusations of indolence and inept household management would inevitably arise.”

Yet, having uttered those words, Millie remained oblivious to their applicability in Marcus’ case.

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the line, Grace’s

a flaw? I anticipated a grand revelation. It’s commonplace for men to

Marcus, his eyes carrying a

as she realized she had just

gracing her words. Having bid farewell to the call, Millie discreetly

hands weaving magic as she placed the artful array of dishes on

into the open air, Millie found Marcus, his voice concluding a conversation as she arrived. She graced the

a world apart, his attention seemingly lost in the distant horizon,

Millie, a shadow of unease cast upon their

transpired within Marcus subsequent to their telephone exchange. Approaching

echoed

of astonished bewilderment, the sudden shroud of Marcus’ disquiet

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