Soon, Marve's face would begin to rot and be completely ruined. Karen felt quite pleased with herself, oblivious to Alexis's slowly darkening expression as she observed Karen's presumptuous attitude. If Byron and Maeve had already divorced, Alexis wouldn't have cared what Karen did. However, they were not yet divorced, and Karen's eagerness made Alexis uncomfortable. Thinking of Betty's words, Alexis felt suspicious. She wondered, "Can I trust Karen's previous comments about Maeve?"

Meanwhile, at Nightfall Manor, shortly after Maeve fell asleep, Byron slowly opened his eyes and pressed the intercom. Within five minutes, Anthony arrived, checking the wound on Maeve's cheek as Byron had instructed earlier. Byron stood with his arms crossed. Seeing Anthony remain silent, he frowned. "How is it?"

"Not good," Anthony said. "This wound doesn't look like a bacterial infection. It's most likely poison."

"Poison?" Byron's eyes turned cold. "What kind of poison? Can it be cured?"

"It's difficult to determine the type of poison visually," Anthony replied. "However, judging by the extent of the wound, she's been poisoned for some time. If it had been discovered a couple of days later, by the time the toxin spread across her face, it would have caused disfigurement and been beyond treatment."

Disfigurement. The word dramatically altered Byron's demeanor; his striking features were cloaked in icy frost.

Byron remembered Maeve's worry about her facial wound, her need to conceal it with a veil. Uncontrollable anger surged within him. If Maeve were disfigured, she would likely feel even worse and never leave the house.

After a moment, Byron composed himself. "Has her body been affected by the poison?"

"This toxin doesn't only target the face; the harm elsewhere is just less significant," Anthony replied. "Once the toxin is eliminated, her wound will heal naturally."

"Just tell the butler whatever you need. Don't worry about the cost or consequences; just focus on curing her," Byron said.

"Alright. Rest assured, Mr. McDaniel."

Their voices were low. Maeve, having spent sleepless nights in the hospital, was in a deep sleep, undisturbed by their conversation.

Anthony quickly prepared the ointment and was about to apply it when Byron rolled up his sleeves and took the ointment.

"Just tell me what to do. I'll handle it," Byron said firmly.

"O-okay," Anthony said.

The ointment needed to be applied all over the face. As Byron spread it on Maeve's cheeks, she drowsily opened her eyes. Feeling something cold on her face, she subconsciously touched it. A warm hand grasped her wrist. "I've applied medicine to your face. Don't touch it," Byron chided.

Maeve awoke fully. Seeing Byron standing by her bed with a bowl, she asked curiously, "What did you apply to my face?"

"It's an ointment from the doctor," Byron said, sitting on the bed's edge. Applying the ointment, he explained calmly, "The bacterial infection in your wound is serious; you need to apply this all over your face. Lie down and don't move."

Maeve nervously clutched the blanket. "How serious is it? Is it incurable?"

"It's nothing to worry about," Byron said, his expression unchanged. After applying the ointment to her lower face, he laughed at her pale green appearance. Maeve looked at him in confusion. "What are you laughing at?"

He teased, "The ointment is the same color as the winter melon you planted on the terrace. It looks funny."

Maeve was speechless. Has Byron never seen a girl use a face mask before? How can he call me stupid? she thought angrily.

"Also," Byron asked, "where's the medicine the hospital prescribed?"

Maeve retrieved an ointment from her coat pocket. "Here. Why?"

"My doctor will prepare a new ointment; don't use the old one," Byron replied.

Maeve looked at Anthony and hesitated. "Are your private doctor's services... expensive?"

Byron was momentarily taken aback, then chuckled. "I won't charge. How about you compensate me with home-cooked meals?"

"Alright!" Maeve nodded, finding this more acceptable than Byron accepting no payment.

Half an hour later, Maeve washed the ointment from her face. The area around the wound felt cool and less itchy. There's a reason private doctors are expensive, she thought.

Outside, Byron gave the ointment to Anthony to check for poison. After Anthony left, Maeve emerged from the washroom.

"Let's see what's in your fridge! I'll make you a feast tonight!" she declared.

Byron laughed. She's so easy to coax, he thought.

Half an hour later, Maeve was already befriending Byron's chefs, sampling their snacks, almost full before dinner. Byron approached. "Do you need help?"

The chefs fell silent.

Maeve readily agreed, "Help me wash and cut these vegetables."

"Okay," Byron replied calmly. He removed his watch, rolled up his sleeves, and began washing vegetables. His actions seemed sophisticated, almost a photo shoot.

Maeve was surprised; she knew Byron detested housework.

"Byron," she asked, "you can't tell leek from spring onion, yet your dishes are delicious. Why?"

Byron's lips twitched. Why is she still hung up on this? he thought.

After the dishes were served, Maeve saw Alexis in the dining room.

"Alexis?"

Alexis, after handing her coat to a maid, glanced at the food. "Do you think catering to my son's appetite will win his heart? And it's only been a short time, and Byron has already brought her here," she thought.