The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1947

"Oh." Hearing his pathetic excuse, a stroke of brilliant defiance hit Stella, and she decided to call his bluff. "If you're fine, I'll walk you down to the lobby."

Roger choked. He never expected the normally sweet, soft-hearted girl to be so utterly ruthless. He felt like he had just shot himself in the foot. For a second, he seriously debated whether to call her bluff and start walking, or just fake passing out so he could shamelessly refuse to leave.

"The bed in the guest room is tiny. If you sleep in there, you're going to be cramped." Just as Roger was strategizing the most realistic way to faint, Stella spoke up again. "Or, if you can wait a bit, I'll go make up my bed for you."

"The guest room is fine." Roger agreed without a split-second of hesitation, following her up the stairs.

"This room is supposed to be Charlotte's, but she's never actually slept here." Stella stood nervously by the door, hiding her hands behind her back, actively avoiding his gaze. "Everything in the en-suite is brand new. But I don't have any clean clothes for you. I can throw yours in the washer, or you can have someone bring you a fresh set in the morning."

"Okay." Roger listened quietly, a lazy smile permanently fixed on his face. She was fussing over him like a devoted little wife.

After running through the logistics, Stella's eyes drifted down to his hand. "Did you change your bandages?" she asked quietly.

"The medical supplies are in my briefcase."

Stella quickly ran downstairs to grab his bag. She pulled up a chair directly across from him and reached out to undo the gauze.

"You don't have to do that. Go get some rest." Roger gently pulled his arm out of her reach, his eyes softening. "I can handle it."

Handle it? She had literally just watched him struggle to hold a fork with his left hand. "I'll do it." Ignoring his protest, Stella stubbornly grabbed his wrist and began unwrapping the thick layer of bandages.

She knew his right hand was hurt, but she had no idea the damage was this extensive. The entire structure of his knuckles was swollen and grotesque, the skin painted in sickly shades of black and purple bruising. Her heart gave a violent lurch.

"It's nothing." Catching the sudden pallor of her face, Roger forced a casual smirk. "Just a minor injury. It'll heal up in no time."

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