Aerona relaxed, her limbs becoming soft and supple like a doll with flexible joints, ready to be posed by her master. Eyes closed, she felt the man trail a string of kisses down her neck and shoulders before his hands moved to grip her ankles. He separated them, bending her knees until her feet rested against his warm, sturdy shoulders.

As the edge of her handmade lace hem was lifted, Aerona reflexively covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Frederick was... kissing her there.

It wasn't just a kiss; it was a tasting. Like a pale fish belly turned upward, she was being sampled by an explorer seeking the freshest flavors. If food had a soul, it would feel exactly how a glutton devours a feast.

In a daze, Aerona recalled a lesson about a forbidden French delicacy: the Ortolan. The French government had banned it long ago for its cruelty and decadence. The ortolan is a small songbird that eats in the dark. Captors would keep them in lightless boxes or blind them, force-feeding them millet, oats, and figs until they were swollen with fat, then drowning them in top-shelf Armagnac to marinate.

Once roasted, the bird would carry a rich aroma of wine—tender, juicy, and maddeningly delicious. This cruel feast was so shameful that one couldn't even maintain a facade of elegance while eating; it had to be chewed whole. Thus, a gentleman would cover his head with a white cloth to savor the dish in silence and darkness, masking his greed and sin from the eyes of God.

At this moment, her skirt became that white cloth, shielding the sight from the Heavens and preserving Mr. von Herheid's place in paradise. In the dark, the gentleman opened his mouth greedily, his lips wet and his tongue moving wantonly to swallow the sweet nectar. She was the ortolan under Frederick's lips—the little bird being eaten whole.

Aerona gripped Frederick's hair tightly. His golden strands, free of styling gel, were incredibly smooth. Under the teasing of his lips and tongue, she began to tremble violently, her body eventually breaking into spasms. She was burning hot. In her frantic movements, her feet scratched his skin. Finally, she let out a sharp cry and wept without restraint.

Frederick's face was drenched.

"Why are you crying?" He pulled her into his arms. Though the lights were off, he could feel how flushed his little bird's face was; she was scorching to the touch. Aerona only sobbed, still reeling from the overwhelming pleasure. It was a sensation too foreign, too terrifyingly intense.

"If Aerona doesn't like it, we can pick a different reward next time, alright?"

Aerona shook her head quickly. "No..."

"You didn't like it?"

"No!" Aerona wrapped her arms around Frederick's waist. It was firm, defined by sculpted muscle. "I liked it... I loved it, Frederick..." Her eyes, washed by tears, sparkled like fluorite in the dark.

"Then why cry? Crying from above and below... are you a little water bird?"

Aerona bit her lip shyly. Savoring the memory for a few seconds, she whispered, "It just felt too good."

Frederick gave her bottom a lazy, lingering pat.

After mustering her courage and squirming in his warm embrace, she finally spoke. "Again."

"Hmm?"

Fearing he hadn't heard, she leaned against his ear. "I want my reward again. One more time."

Frederick's Adam's apple bobbed. Amused by her greed, he lowered her legs. "Greedy girl, no more for today." If they did it again, she would likely collapse from dehydration, especially considering how she had just "drenched" him.

"Why...?"

"Aerona, a good child must learn moderation and restraint."

"Then I don't want to be a good child. I don't like moderation! Why do something so wonderful in moderation?" Aerona truly didn't understand. She hated restraint. Frederick always talked about moderation—he wouldn't even let her eat a whole chocolate cake, saying too much sugar was bad for her. Sometimes, a person needed to do something a little unhealthy, a little non-standard. To Aerona, it was Frederick who didn't understand.

Frederick shook his head, unmoved. "If you aren't a good child, there will be no more rewards. Are you sure, Birdie?"

"Daddy... Frederick!" Aerona acted spoiled. she wanted it so badly; her heart was itching, and her "fish belly" was restless. She wanted to climb onto his face, but she didn't dare be too brazen. No matter how much she coaxed, the man remained unyielding. Even when she nipped his arm, he only smirked helplessly. When he decided to be cold, he was impenetrable.

Knowing there was no hope, Aerona sprawled out on the bed. "I'll never be happy again because my Daddy is stingy."

Frederick arched an eyebrow, ignoring her childishness, and turned on the light. He ordered a servant to bring up a glass of warm milk. He had a rule: Aerona had to drink two glasses of milk and eat a solid steak every day. He wanted her to have a stronger physique.

While waiting, Frederick personally changed the bedsheets, tossing the wet bundle into the hamper. Aerona sat on the sofa, chin in hand, watching him work. The sheets carried a lingering, musky scent that made her blush.

After her milk and medicine, Aerona was tucked into the clean, comfortable bed. Frederick leaned over to kiss her porcelain cheek, his hands—still faintly damp with the remnants of their intimacy—smoothing the duvet. "Of course you'll be happy again, my little foodie. Have sweet dreams tonight."

Aerona was indeed getting sleepy. As the rush faded, her spent energy turned into a silken, lingering weariness. "...Mmm... I want to dream of my palace. I didn't see it last night..."

"You surely will tonight. Sleep now, sweetheart."

Frederick knew he couldn't stay any longer. He turned to leave, but Aerona called out to him. "One more question!"

He stopped, hand on the doorframe. "Yes?"

Tucked tightly under the covers so only her face was visible, Aerona looked like a cat peeking over a windowsill. She hesitated for a few seconds before humming out: "You haven't told me... what I tasted like."

Frederick froze. His fingers gripped the doorframe tightly, the veins in his temple throbbing in the shadows. She wasn't just testing his limits; she was practically dancing on them.

After ten long seconds of silence, Frederick offered a gentle smile. "It's hard to describe, but it was delicious. Aerona, I'll savor it more carefully next time, alright?"

He bid her a steady goodnight and shut the door with decisive speed. He was truly afraid the "Little Bird" would say something else that would push him over the edge. He didn't want to spend the night unable to sleep even after taking his medication.

Frederick had Harold bring him two pills, swallowing them under the butler's hesitant gaze before heading to the garden for some cold air. Lake Alster was cobalt blue at night, with a sharp moon hiding among the bare branches. He lit a strong cigar to mask the decadent sweetness clinging to him. He couldn't afford to smell it anymore; if he did, no amount of medicine would help.

His unstyled golden hair was tossed by the wind. His clean house shoes were stained with damp grass, and his cashmere coat, thrown haphazardly over his robe, was wrinkled. With his external sense of order disrupted, he no longer looked like the dignified aristocrat he portrayed during the day.

Frederick knew the truth: he wasn't as gentlemanly, noble, or restrained as he pretended to be. It took every ounce of his willpower not to lose control—to flip her over, command her to stay still, and "educate" her with his palm until she was crimson before kissing her and feeding his greedy little bird.

He... actually wanted to break her.

Frederick's Adam's apple bobbed, a wave of guilt washing over him for such indulgent thoughts. He had to remind himself constantly: he was her Daddy, not some low-level male using the title as a front for fetishes. He used that role as a chain to restrain his volatile desires. A good Daddy wouldn't hurt the girl he loved; he would provide security. He wanted her body, but he wanted her trust, reliance, and love even more.

Until he was certain this Little Bird could handle his unusual libido, he would not act recklessly, nor would he allow her to entice him again. Whether it was a kiss or a "reward," it couldn't happen too often.