Sir Ares, Goodnight

Angeline was fast asleep when a commotion was heard outside.

Angeline jolted upright. Ripping the needle from the infusion bag out of her arm, she stumbled down the stairs.

This was her first time out of the bedroom. The mansion was designed like a castle from Medieval times. The walls, made from majestic, natural marble, had numerous vintage drawings carved into them. One who was knowledgeable in the field would realize that there were many unique symbols incorporated within. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The castle felt old and mysterious to Angeline.

It was difficult for her to imagine that a man as young and regal as him would have such an old-fashioned taste in buildings.

When she arrived at the lower floor, she pushed open the door to the back garden. There, in the middle of the pen where the small animals were raised, she saw the insufferable man battling against a bunch o chickens.

He chased after the escaping chickens. Feathers scattered all over the pen, causing the dogs nearby to bark in excitement.

It was a somewhat comical image.

servants did not share that sentiment. They looked at the man nervously as

the pen, chicken feathers all over his body. This made his mysophobic

stomach. He seemed to be on the verge of puking. When he saw Angeline, he said determinedly, "I promised that besides that shallow form of love, I'll satisfy you in every other way. If you want meat in your porridge, I'll make that

to speak, he felt the turbid air make its way into his mouth. The man could no longer stand it and collapsed against the fence,

beside him. Holding his breath, he aimed for the escaping hen from

Angeline muttered, "It's

as if she had made the

had excelled in everything he dabbled in since he was a child. Except for butchering, which was

up a hen in her left arm and a

The man was flabbergasted.

woman was holding the chickens so close to her. Did she

to find that he did not feel disgusted toward her although she had taken these filthy animals into her

wondrous

pen, and his brows knitted together when he remembered that he still needed to butcher the chickens. That was a

and retrieved the knife. Swinging the chicken's head upward, she brought the knife down. Chicken blood