Margaret paused for a moment before chuckling softly. She set down her cup and replied gently, "You're right. I invited you here not just for lunch, but also to catch up. Who would have thought that the boy I met by chance is the young master of the Clay family? I don't know if this is luck or not."

Merlin laughed as well. "Me too. Who would have thought that you are Margaret Beethoven, the eldest daughter of the Beethoven family? Aren't I the luckiest one here?"

They looked at each other before finally bursting into laughter. Margaret shook her head and said sincerely, "You saved me, Merlin. Thank you."

She bowed slightly toward him. "If there's anything you want, just say the word. I promise I'll give it to you. I'm pretty sure my Beethoven family has many things that would interest you."

If it were anyone else, they would have been overjoyed—after all, Margaret's offer was made freely, without coercion or threats.

Unfortunately, Merlin wasn't interested at all. He waved his hand. "Thank you for your offer. I appreciate it, but I'm sorry—I'm not interested."

Her words startled Margaret. She raised her head and looked at Merlin in bewilderment. "Why? Shouldn't you be happy?"

Confusion washed over her. As far as she could remember, people who approached her usually had that intention. Although she trusted Merlin, she had assumed he felt the same way.

That was why she had offered so willingly—so their friendship could continue. After all, Merlin was her only friend.

"We are friends, aren't we?" Merlin looked at her sincerely. "Friendship is a genuine bond between two people, not something tainted by interests or benefits. If it's only about that, then it isn't friendship—it's a partnership of convenience."

"Besides, you already know I'm from the Clay family. I don't lack money, connections, or anything else. So you don't need to offer me any payment. I'm doing this voluntarily."

He sipped his tea, paying no attention to the shock on Margaret's face. Well, he had indeed imagined living with the wealth of the Beethoven family.

But that was merely a desire, not his goal. What he truly wanted was to make Margaret his partner, his friend, and also… ahem… his lover. If he could achieve that, the Beethoven family would naturally become his supporters.

Wasn't that far better than fleeting happiness?

Margaret was silent, biting her lower lip. She hadn't expected Merlin to say that. Throughout her life, too many people had approached her only for the power behind her.

Subconsciously, she had forgotten what genuine sincerity from others felt like. This was the first time she had experienced it—and it was truly touching.

"Merlin… thank you," she whispered hoarsely. "Since you consider me a true friend, I will do the same. If anyone bothers you or harms you, I will repay them a thousand times over! That is my oath!"

As she spoke, system notifications began appearing rapidly, one after another.

"[Ding! The heroine Margaret's affection has increased by 5 points!]"

"[Ding! The heroine Margaret's affection has increased by 5 points!]"

"[Ding!…]"

Merlin froze, stunned by how extraordinary the results were. Before he could react, another system notification rang, snapping him from his reverie.

"[Ding! The heroine Margaret's affection is now 96 points! Congratulations, you have made the heroine Margaret yours! Only 4 points remain before affection reaches its maximum! Keep it up, Master; a great reward awaits you!]"

Merlin's breath caught, and his heart raced.

'System… is this real? I'm not dreaming, am I?'

Even Catrine's affection hadn't reached this high, yet Margaret—whom he had only met a day ago—was already at this level. It was truly unbelievable.

"[Why would I lie, Master?]" the system replied, rolling its eyes. "[The data is accurate. The reason her affection grew so quickly is that Margaret is still very young, vulnerable, and easy to win over. If she were from the novel's timeline, it would have been impossible to gain her affection this fast.]"

Hearing the explanation, Merlin finally understood. The current Margaret was different from the one in the novel.

If he remembered correctly, the novel's timeline began when the main character and the heroines were thirteen or fourteen. Since Margaret was a year older than him, that would make her only nine years old now.

'Fortunately, I was reincarnated in the body of an eight-year-old Merlin. Otherwise, things wouldn't be this easy,' he muttered with relief.

Snapping out of his reverie, he smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your kindness. I will do the same. After all, we are friends," Merlin said softly.

Margaret nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah… we are friends."

They continued their conversation. Having only known each other for a short time, this interaction was important for naturally deepening their bond.

Born into a wealthy family, Margaret's knowledge far surpassed that of other children her age. She even understood financial systems for various situations, earning frequent nods of approval from Merlin.

Of course, Merlin was no fool either. Having read extensively, he kept their conversation lively, ensuring no topic was ever exhausted.

They became so absorbed in their discussion that they didn't even notice the waiters arriving with Merlin's order.

Once all the food was neatly arranged, the waiters left, leaving the two of them alone with the dishes in front of them.

Merlin glanced at the food, then at Margaret's mask. "Can you eat it?"

The question was clear—may I see you without your mask?

"Do you remember me saying I would show you my real face?" She asked as she slowly removed her mask. "I'll show it to you now. Please don't laugh, okay?"

When the mask was lifted, a face of extraordinary beauty and perfection was revealed. Her round, golden eyes carried an indifferent air, yet were incredibly captivating.

Her nose was small, and her cheeks were slightly rounded, giving her an adorable charm. Unfortunately, a red mark marred that perfection.

It stretched from her right ear to the left, like the sinister roots of a tree. Black scabs dotted both sides of her nose, while burn marks scarred her forehead.

The sight was horrifying—even grotesque. Margaret felt her body freeze, and a fear she had never known swept over her like a tsunami.

'Will he hate me and stay away?' She wondered, instinctively glancing at him.

But what she saw was not disgust or hatred. Instead, Merlin's gaze was filled with sadness, joy, and tenderness.

Suddenly, Merlin reached out, gently stroked her face, and whispered, "So beautiful…"

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