Abigail Hemsworth has never known how to spell the word "stingy."
Although Rowan Benett isn't all that reliable, for the sake of those ten bottles of Cheval Blanc, the big table of dishes he prepared was full of sincerity.
Mm.
All just for those ten bottles of Cheval Blanc.
She pulled Linn over and sat him down on the chair. The servant tied a bib around him, then put the non-slip chopsticks and spoon in front of him.
Abigail just helped out a bit at the side, like rolling up Linn's sleeves.
Compared to the beginning, when she wanted to hold Linn in her arms every second and looked all tense and at a loss, she was a lot calmer and more composed now.
Grandpa got better, Linn's eyes got better, and she was free too. Living here, her living conditions had also improved.
Everything had settled down.
She gradually returned to her own state, the way she was three years ago.
Proud and arrogant, cool and composed, carefree and heartless, no one could ever catch her eye.
