"Open your mouth. It's really tasty. You'll love it as much as I do if you give it a shot."

Freya said sweetly, "Okay, okay, open your mouth," and the sound of her voice was irresistible.

Once Bradley heard Freya speak, he knew her voice was vibrant, distinct, and melodious. He found himself unable to resist her charm, especially when she added a touch of cuteness to her speech.

In an unexpected turn, he complied by opening his mouth and eating the piece of yam she offered.

He found the flavor wasn't terrible. In fact, it tasted slightly sweet but not overly so.

"How does it taste?" When Freya saw him take a bite, she asked enthusiastically.

Bradley nodded in agreement, "It's delicious."

"Well, if it's delicious, then you should eat more," Freya suggested, picking up another piece of yam. Bradley obediently opened his mouth, allowing her to feed him once again.

"You should also have more carrots. They are very nutritious."

Regardless of what Freya fed him, Bradley cooperated and ate it all.

Meanwhile, Frederick and Rosa, who were witnessing the scene, were both shocked.

Carrots and yams were two of Mr. Austin's least favorite foods, but he just finished eating them all. They thought maybe Freya was Mr. Austin's savior.

Since the big fire incident, Mr. Austin had been experiencing a weakened appetite, barely eating enough during mealtimes.

However, today was a different story. Not only did he eat pasta, but he also consumed a considerable amount of dishes. It was scarce for him.

After a delightful meal, Frederick pushed Bradley back to his room while Freya went to lend a hand to Rosa with the dishwashing.

"Ma'am, I can handle these tasks by myself. You can go have some rest," Rosa insisted, feeling uneasy with the idea that the hostess would assist the servants.

"It's fine. I don't have anything to do now, anyway. Besides, sitting idle after eating isn't good for digestion. It can cause bloating, you know!" Freya gave off a goofy grin.

Observing Freya's innocent demeanor, Rosa couldn't help but feel that there was more to her than meets the eye. As they cleaned, the two engaged in conversation.

Rosa shared that Bradley had always had a poor appetite, and today's meal was the most he had eaten in the past seven years.

For some reason, every time Rosa mentioned Bradley's condition, Freya couldn't help but see herself reflected in his struggles. They had similar sufferings, though she considered herself fortunate to have avoided becoming intellectually challenged.

On the other hand, Bradley had experienced the hardship of being trapped in the fire, resulting in his disability and disfigurement. Freya couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

A sudden realization struck Freya, and she made up her mind that before leaving the Royal Garden Mansion, she would do whatever she could to help Bradley overcome his chronic headaches.

As the night descended, Freya had just finished her shower, her hair still adorned with glistening droplets of water. Dressed in her pajamas, she stepped out of the bathroom.

However, she was startled when she suddenly saw Bradley in the room. "Mr. Austin," she stammered.

"You should dry your hair." Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her wet hair.

Freya clumsily responded, "I'll go to the balcony to let it dry. It'll dry quickly."

Bradley's frown deepened upon hearing her explanation, and he maneuvered his wheelchair closer, commanding, "Go and get the hairdryer."

Reluctantly, Freya retrieved the hairdryer as instructed.

"Plug it in," Bradley's deep voice resonated once more.

Freya did as she was told.

Bradley pulled her onto his lap, gripping the hairdryer tightly as he began to dry her hair.

Freya was startled and attempted to escape his lap, but Bradley firmly held her waist, preventing her from moving.

"Don't move," he commanded.

Freya didn't have the courage to take another step. She sensed the impending danger when she moved a fraction of a second earlier.

She was afraid to have a blind person help her dry her hair, fearing that some of her hair would get caught in the hairdryer.

Bradley's hands glided through her hair, occasionally touching her scalp, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

She had no idea if it had been an accident or on purpose, and she blushed shyly as his rough fingertips brushed against her earlobes.

Freya felt like Bradley was making fun of her because he was touching her most vulnerable spot. She was in pain through the ten minutes it took her to blow dry her hair.

Only the buzzing of the hair dryer could be heard in the otherwise silent bedroom.

Suddenly, Freya felt a tight sensation on her scalp. Bradley lowered his head unexpectedly, and his thin lips gently brushed against her ear.

It felt like an electric shock, causing her heart to skip a beat.

"Sleep with me tonight!" Bradley said suddenly.

Freya trembled. "Why is he still bringing this up? Am I destined not to escape here tonight? "she thought.

Freya tensed up nervously, and as she did so, a hair strand was sucked into the hairdryer, causing her to scream in pain.

Freya's misty tears and the smell of burnt hair were both clearly visible when Bradley swiftly turned off the power.

"Stay still. Let me untangle it," Bradley offered, his hand reaching into the hairdryer. Pressed closely against Freya's back, his chest lightly brushed against her, the thin fabric of their clothes allowing her to feel his warmth and steady heartbeat.

A surge of warmth rose to her cheeks as his warm breath grazed her cheek, carrying a minty fragrance.

The silence enveloped them, broken only by their synchronized breathing and the gentle intertwining of their heartbeats, creating an unexpectedly intimate atmosphere.

Freya's mind momentarily went blank, her rapid breaths revealing her growing unease, prompting her to push him away.

"You can't see it, Mr. Austin. I will ask Rosa for help."

After a brief pause, Bradley swiftly untangled the strand of burnt hair. However, a pang of sorrow washed over him as he looked down at the damaged strands.

Freya had thick, naturally black hair that glistened like gleaming silk.

Unable to resist, his slender fingers delicately caressed her hair, relishing its fragrant aroma. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, savoring this intimate moment.

Every aspect of the girl fascinated him. Unable to contain himself, his fingers couldn't settle for merely touching her hair, but they ventured out, gently exploring the contours of her face, tracing along her delicate features.

Freya's nerves tensed up, her mind racing to comprehend his intentions.

Before she could even process it, Bradley forcefully turned her over, her eyes still shut as his kisses landed intensely on her lips.

Realizing his intent to get closer to her, Freya instinctively reached out to push him away.

However, Bradley, fueled by an unexplainable burst of strength, effortlessly lifted and carried her onto the bed.

"No, no, we can't do this," Freya pleaded, her fear intensifying in the face of his overpowering presence.

Her wet hair splayed out onto the pink bedsheets. Her face flushed crimson, her eyes brimming with teary fear, resembling a timid little rabbit.

Witnessing her vulnerable state, Bradley was engulfed by a mix of emotions. Holding her firmly, he contemplated tearing her nightgown apart.

Yet, he couldn't ignore the soft whimpering sounds that escaped her lips.