Chapter 892

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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From the opposite end of the line, Grace’s laughter erupted like a cascade.

“Is that truly a flaw? I anticipated a grand revelation. It’s commonplace for men to lack culinary

prowess.” Grace’s voice, laden with amusement, danced through the airwaves.

Amidst the exchange, Millie’s gaze caught Marcus, his eyes carrying a pensive musing as they settled

upon her.

An immediate pang of guilt coursed through her as she realized she had just nitpicked at his supposed

flaws moments ago.

“Let us halt this discourse. We shall reconnect upon my return,” Millie answered, a note of finality

gracing her words. Having bid farewell to the call, Millie discreetly evaded Marcus’ gaze and retreated

to the kitchen’s sanctum.

Millie orchestrated the culinary symphony, her hands weaving magic as she placed the artful array of

dishes on the table. Meanwhile, Marcus lingered in the courtyard, an enigma of his own.

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

She graced the threshold with her presence and chimed, “Honey, come for the meal.”

However, it was as though Marcus inhabited a world apart, his attention seemingly lost in the distant

horizon, evading her voice.

A leaden sensation settled within Millie, a shadow of unease cast upon their proximity. Could he have

overheard her dialogue with Grace?

A premonitory whisper brushed Millie’s thoughts, insisting that a subtle shift had transpired within

Marcus subsequent to their telephone exchange. Approaching Marcus, Millie ventured softly, “Dearest,

the fish soup has been prepared

His sidelong glance bore a depth that echoed unspoken sentiments, He nodded and followed inside.

Nillie stood in a moment of astonished bewilderment, the sudden shroud of Marcus’ disquiet enveloping

her in a haze of uncertainty.

Once they had taken their seats, Millie’s grace unfurled as she delicately presented Marcus with a bowl

brimming with a luscious, velvety fish soup.

“Indulge in the soup first, for its tonic warmth shall embrace your stomach,” Millie entreated with a

gentle smile.

The fish soup had been crafted exclusively for him.

With a fluid motion, Marcus grasped the bowl and, laden upon his spoon, extended a gesture of

offering, proffering a spoonful of the nourishing soup to Millie.

“What are you doing?” Millie’s actions stalled, the tendrils of uncertainty coiling tighter around her in the

wake of Marcus’ unexpected gesture.