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How To Conquer The Mysterious Him? Novel Cover

How To Conquer The Mysterious Him?

Sheltered and adored by her family, Ms. Roberts has never known a day of hardship. However, everything changes when Percival Hughes sends word of his imminent return to Lysandria. Eager to please him, she sets out to prepare a lavish welcome feast, even seeking lessons from the town's finest chef to master the culinary arts. Despite her maid Sarah Turner’s concern over her burned hands, she remains determined to cook the meal herself. Can her dedication truly conquer his mysterious heart?
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Chapter 1

Percival Hughes sent a letter announcing he would soon arrive in Lysandria.

My heart leaped with joy, and I instructed my maid, Sarah Turner, to accompany me on a shopping trip to prepare a lavish meal before his arrival.

Having always been the apple of my family's eye, I had never experienced hardship.

He had expressed a desire to enjoy a welcome feast prepared by me upon his return to Lysandria, so I sought out the town's most renowned chef to learn cooking.

As Sarah applied burn ointment to my hands, she muttered under her breath, "Ms. Roberts, why insist on cooking yourself?"

I pinched her cheek and replied with a smile, "You'll understand when you're married."

The dishes on the table warmed and cooled repeatedly before Percival finally returned.

A commotion erupted outside. I stood up and hurried out.

"Ms. Roberts, slow down. Don't hurt yourself."

The moment Percival stepped inside, he saw me running towards him and quickly opened his arms to embrace me.

"Percival, you smell awful."

I nestled into his chest, sniffing around playfully as if to show my disdain.

In truth, he didn't smell bad at all. It was the subtle, elegant fragrance I always loved, though it seemed a bit stronger today.

Percival bent down to lift me, chiding, "I've told you not to run. What if you fall?"

With my arms around his neck, I chuckled. "If I fall, I have you to keep me from getting hurt."

Suddenly, the system's voice rang out, "Host, unfortunately, your progress has dropped to 90%."

I thought, "It was 99% before he left. Why the sudden drop?"

The system, however, did not respond.

Not long after Percival and I married, he was commanded to lead troops in battle.

I stayed behind, spending most days practicing swordplay while awaiting his letters.

Now, with no troubles inside or out, Percival was finally back.

He held me tightly, scolding me for running around, but his eyes overflowed with concern.

I stared into his affectionate eyes and picked a gardenia from his hair.

The gardenia trees at home had only just started to bud. I wondered where these gardenia petals came from.

Rubbing the petal between my fingers, I asked him, "Where did this gardenia come from?"

With a smile in his eyes, Percival called over a subordinate, who handed me a blooming gardenia.

"I saw these gardenias in full bloom on my way back and picked one for you."

After speaking, he tucked a gardenia behind my ear.

He caressed my cheek with his broad palm as he said tenderly, "Amelia, you're still so beautiful."

After he learned of my fondness for gardenias, he had personally planted gardenia trees all over our estate.

Before he left for war, he said, "Amelia, wait for me. When the gardenias bloom, I will return to be with you."

Now, the gardenias had bloomed, and he was back.

However, he also brought back a pregnant woman who had stayed by his side during his campaign.

Apparently, this gardenia was not picked just for me.

He loved me, but not only me.

To be close to him, I had joined the same private school, secretly learned his habits, and forced myself to wake up early just for a chance encounter to say, "Mr. Hughes, good morning."

Later, I found out he had known all along that I was a woman, and his morning greeting was also deliberate.

He had a habit of practicing swordplay early in the morning but would quickly return to his room, change his clothes, mess up his hair, and pretend he had just woken up, all to say good morning to me.

As we were parting, I teased him, "Mr. Hughes, do you have someone special?"

He remained silent, so I continued, "I have a sister whom I'd like to match with you. Would you be willing, Mr. Hughes?"

He patted my head with a smile and then handed me a marriage document.

"As her brother, may I sign for her?"

So, I joyfully signed my name, Amelia Roberts, on that somewhat informal marriage document.

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