Arabella didn't want to be friends with someone who called her a "bitch," and she didn't feel she was in the wrong. But she didn't want to cause more trouble for Frederick. Her lip trembled, and she whispered in a voice as small as a mosquito, "Daisy, I'm sor—"

"Aerona."

A deep, gentle call stopped the apology in its tracks. Arabella snapped her head toward the sound. Frederick was standing beneath the light, the glow catching his ash-gold hair and clear, dark blue eyes.

"Frederick!" Arabella wanted nothing more than to dive into his warm, broad embrace.

Frederick offered a faint, somewhat helpless smile as he strode to her side. He asked in a low voice if she was hurt. She shook her head, having already forgotten about the kick she received. "I didn't mean to twist her hand. She tried to grab my hair first. And I didn't curse her first—she cursed me."

"I know. You are the most honest child." Frederick rubbed her head dotingly and tucked her behind his back before turning to Lady Patricia and Daisy.

He was tall, his shoulders broad and straight. Combined with his athletic, lean frame, he commanded the room with an effortless aura. It wasn't a cold or overbearing presence, but like a calm sea—it could support all things, or it could trigger a tsunami.

Daisy guiltily avoided his gaze, letting out a soft "Ow" for the doctor's benefit.

Frederick smiled. "Lady Patricia, my girlfriend sprained Daisy's arm. I apologize on her behalf."

Lady Patricia wasn't satisfied, but she decided to take the offered "exit." She placed a hand on Daisy's arm to keep her quiet. "Since that's—"

"However, Lady Patricia," Frederick interrupted. "Don't you want to know why Aerona did it?"

Lady Patricia froze.

Frederick gestured to Harold. With a few taps on his phone, a massive screen descended in the center of the living room. It began playing security footage from the court.

The ultra-high-definition video recreated the scene perfectly, capturing every micro-expression. It played twice, finally freezing on a frame where Daisy's face was contorted as she lunged to grab Arabella's hair.

Daisy turned deathly pale, then burned with embarrassment.

Benjamin, never one to pass up a bit of drama, leaned against the wall. "Yo-ho! It looks like our sweetheart wasn't attacking—it was self-defense! Daisy, you really should use your words. Grabbing hair is a bit... barbaric, don't you think?"

Arabella nodded along vigorously. Frederick placed an arm around her waist, casting a brief, indifferent glance at his playboy cousin.

"I didn't mean to hit her... she called me names..." Daisy sobbed.

"You called me a hick first! You discriminated against me!" With Frederick backing her, Arabella's voice was full of renewed strength.

"I—" Daisy started, but Lady Patricia gripped her wrist tightly, a warning look flashing in her peripheral vision.

Lady Patricia turned back with a forced smile that crinkled the fine lines around her eyes. "Look at them bickering. I always say girls' squabbles are such a headache. Fritz, I don't think there's a 'right' or 'wrong' here. They're just children who haven't grown up yet."

Frederick smiled, his voice gentle yet ringing with authority. "Aerona is a noble lady from a great nation. Don't you agree, Lady Patricia?"

Lady Patricia said nothing more, maintaining her elegant posture and a polite smile, though her heart had already sunk to the bottom.

-----

Dinner time arrived quickly, and everyone maintained a dignified front, pointedly ignoring the earlier drama on the tennis court.

Arabella sat obediently by Frederick's side. Under his introduction, she sweetly greeted his grandparents. While Heinrich responded with a polite but vague distance, Lady Mabel took an immediate liking to Arabella. She held the girl's hand, chatted about trifles, and eventually presented her with a precious antique amethyst brooch.

In the modern era, amethysts are not considered particularly expensive, but before the 18th century, they were rarer and more costly than diamonds, reserved exclusively for royalty and the high aristocracy.

This brooch had once been a favorite of Duchess Matilda von Herheid and had been passed down through the family for centuries. Its crystal remained clear and its color deep and vibrant. It was part of a set that included a tiara, necklace, and earrings. Mabel giving this specific piece to Arabella was a gesture whose significance was not lost on anyone at the table.

Watching Arabella receive the jewelry, Daisy dug her heels into the floor beneath the tablecloth, viciously shredding the burger on her plate with her knife. To her, this was disgusting, high-calorie "junk food" with cheap sauce—the kind of garbage only the poor and obese would love. Yet Frederick had introduced it as a "delicacy" Arabella had prepared specially for them, ensuring everyone received a portion.

Lady Patricia nudged her daughter's leg under the table, a silent warning to mask her blatant hostility.

After enduring dinner, Daisy and her mother took their leave. Mabel invited them back for the Golden Wedding anniversary gala in two days; Daisy wanted to refuse, but Lady Patricia accepted with a gracious smile.

Once in the car, Daisy's composure shattered. "I'm not going back! You go if you want, but I won't be humiliated further!"

Lady Patricia looked at her daughter with profound disappointment. "You were a fool to provoke that girl today, and you nearly threw a tantrum in front of Lady Mabel. You're being utterly moronic!"

"I'm the moronic one?" Daisy sneered. "Frederick is the moron for falling for a common hick. Forget it—he and I are finished."

"Yes, you and Frederick are finished, and your idiot brother Felix is about to finish off what's left of your grandfather's estate!" Patricia hissed. "Once we can no longer maintain our expenses, we will be kicked out of this cold-blooded circle. You want to go to parties? You'll be wearing your outdated gowns to parties that serve cheap beer!"

Maintaining an upper-class life—estates, servants, private jets, yachts, and the social calendar—required a staggering amount of capital. Many noble families had been reduced to the middle class once their resources dried up. Daisy fell silent as fear took hold. Her brother's failed investments had left a 300-million-euro hole in their finances, and her mother had already been forced to sell several manors.

Patricia took her daughter's hand, her voice grave. "Tell me the truth: do you still love Fritz?"

"Of course! I've known since I was fifteen that I was meant to be his wife!" Daisy's eyes welled with tears.

Frederick had once told Daisy he only saw her as a sister, like Sophia, and had distanced himself ever since. He still sent perfunctory holiday and birthday gifts, but the coldness was undeniable. To the world, he was the perfect man—handsome, wealthy, mature. But to those who tried to get close, he was arrogant and cruel. If he were cruel to everyone, Daisy could endure it, but his tenderness toward Arabella was a personal insult she could not accept.

"Then listen to me," Patricia nodded. "I will make it so Frederick has no choice but to marry you."