It seems that the villain is targeting me.

Prince Charles' chest heaved violently. The betrayal of his best friend and the scheming of his ministers, such a cold and straightforward reality made him feel unable to accept it for a while.

The eldest prince listened in a daze, and a thought flashed through his chaotic mind: How did Butcher collect such complete evidence in such a short time?

Unless...unless...

Unless he has been monitoring everyone in the palace without interruption.

Even I, a member of the royal family and the emperor's eldest son, am no exception.

And his father, the emperor of this country, obviously knew all this.

Charles didn't look at the friend who betrayed him. He unconsciously clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into the flesh.

Xiao Niao's fingertips lingered on the last line of letters for a moment. She looked at the eldest prince's increasingly pale face and calmly closed the file.

The emperor glanced at his eldest son with a rather cold tone.

"Anything else you want to say, Charles?"

Chapter 17 The Center of Power

Charles said nothing, obviously having nothing more to say.

Lawrence didn't want to argue about this matter any further and was ready to get the eldest prince out: "Okay, let's end this matter here."

"Just deal with these people according to the law. I won't ask any more questions." This was said to Xiao Niao.

"Keep the engagement with the Tudors as is. Give the girl some gifts and make the ceremony more formal," Lawrence frowned and turned to instruct the bird. "Afterwards, I will personally go to Bartel and explain everything to him."

"As for you..." The emperor turned his gaze to Charles coldly, "Stay in your room and reflect on your mistakes for the next few days. You are not allowed to go anywhere!"

Charles clenched his palms and forced himself to look obedient: "Yes, Father!"

Lawrence waved his hand irritably: "Alright, get lost."

The emperor was really very impatient and just wanted to solve these problems quickly.

Most of the day has been wasted, and Lawrence's original meeting with several legion commanders has been postponed.

Prince Charles' back stiffened, and the moment he bowed his head to salute, his handsome face suddenly twitched, filled with hatred and anger.

But when he raised his head again, he put on the face of a filial son.

"My son has made such a serious mistake and deserves to be punished," Charles said, his face filled with shame. "I'm sorry to have caused my father so much trouble."

After saying this, he bowed respectfully again and turned to leave the hall.

The Marquis's son, who was kneeling at the foot of the stairs and muttering something in a low voice, suddenly shuddered. It was not until Charles walked past him without looking at him that he let out a long cry as if waking up from a dream.

"what--"

He recognized Charles, his former good friend with similar interests and noble status.

As if he had grabbed the last straw, the Marquis's son burst out with amazing strength in that instant, and actually broke free from the arms of the two guards and suddenly fell to Charles' feet.

"Your Highness! Save me! Save me!" The Marquis's son grabbed Prince Charles' trouser legs tightly. "Please! Please spare me! Your Highness! Your Highness!"

The two guards were stunned for a moment, then quickly reacted.

One of the guards stepped forward as swiftly as a tiger, suddenly pinned down the Marquis's son, and grabbed one of his arms and twisted it to prevent him from hurting Charles in his excitement.

"How dare you!" the guard shouted, "Let go of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince!"

The Marquis's son was crawling twistedly on the ground.

He seemed to feel no pain, and continued to wail while crawling on the ground like a wild beast with his remaining hand.

He struggled to crawl to Charles' feet, and tremblingly kissed his friend's boots. He raised three fingers of his right hand, which was still able to move, and pressed them tightly together.

This is the gesture used by the defeated knight to ask for forgiveness from the victor during an indiscriminate duel between two knights.

It means I give up, I surrender... please spare my life.

Please spare my life.

The Marquis's son, like Prince Charles, was an avid fan of knightly duels and loved watching various martial arts competitions. It was precisely because of this hobby that the two became friends.

"Mercy," the man said, no longer shouting. He raised his finger and repeated the word tremblingly. "Mercy—please have mercy."

Prince Charles lowered his head and looked at him, his eyes seemed to be filled with a thick fog, and no emotion could be seen.

"Let him go," Charles said to the guard expressionlessly.

The guard didn't dare to let go, but the dilemma in his heart made him subconsciously loosen his grip, allowing the marquis's son to struggle to hold on to the ground and raise his head pleadingly.

"Your Highness!" A hint of joy flashed in the eyes of the Marquis' son, "Your Highness, save me. We are friends—"

But Charles didn't wait for his friend to finish his words. Before the guards could react, he suddenly kicked his former friend in the heart with his calfskin boots.

There was a "click" sound.

The Marquis's son's whole body jumped up, and then fell to the ground like a heavy stone. He lay on the ground, his face flushed purple, and soon he was breathing more than he was breathing out.

Prince Charles looked at his friend lying on the ground, slowly took two steps back, and then walked away without looking back.

Lawrence frowned.

The guards were frightened by the emperor's solemn expression, thinking that they would be punished for failing to keep an eye on the prisoner. They quickly knelt on one knee on the ground, lowered their heads, and waited for the emperor's decision, not daring to make a sound.

Lawrence just looked in the direction Charles left.

He pondered for a moment, then calmly waved his hand, signaling the guards below to take the person away quickly.

Seeing that the emperor had no intention of pursuing the matter, the guards stood up as if they had been pardoned, and hurriedly dragged the marquis's son, who was like a dead dog, out of the conference hall.

Only the emperor and the prime minister were left in the council chamber.

Lawrence leaned on the throne, his eyes melancholy.

He was silent for a long time before he finally sighed softly, "Why did I give birth to such a son?"

Xiao Niao stood silently by and did not respond to this sentence.

But Lawrence seemed quite persistent today. He turned around, as if he wanted to ask the bird's opinion, but also as if he was just talking to himself.

"This child's temper is too extreme," the emperor said, his eyebrows still furrowed. "Why is he nothing like me?"

Xiao Niao rolled his eyes in his heart when he heard this.

She thought to herself, what nonsense are you talking about? You are an emperor who conquered the country with his army. When you were young, you fought on the battlefield and had to live with your head hanging on your belt. If you relax or are careless for a moment, you will lose your life. In such an environment, even a donkey can temper his character.

In contrast, your son Charles has lived with his mother in a luxurious palace since he was a child, with servants serving him in everything from food, clothing, housing and transportation.

Because of his status as the crown prince, he was flattered and praised by people around him when he grew up. The heaviest thing he has ever lifted in his life is probably the knife and fork he uses to eat.

After you're done, you come here and look up and ask, "Son, why don't you look like me, your father?"

It would be strange if this could be similar!

Although Xiao Niao thought so in his heart, he would not say these words directly in front of Lawrence.

This is her wisdom for survival. There are some things that she, as the prime minister, should not say.

Xiaoniao just said some words of comfort in a proper manner: The eldest prince is still young, he will correct himself in the future, blah blah blah and so on.

Lawrence nodded, his eyes moving around the empty conference room, wondering what he was thinking.

"Did you meet Bater last night?" the emperor suddenly asked.

Xiao Niao said yes.

"Did he say anything?" Lawrence asked anxiously. "Did you tell Banur my thoughts? I have absolutely no intention of canceling the engagement."

Xiao Niao nodded. "I've already said that. The Grand Duke said he understands your majesty's difficulties. The Tudor family is loyal to the royal family, and this loyalty will never be shaken by rumors from the outside world."

"Oh, that's good." Lawrence breathed a sigh of relief.

"The Duke also said," Xiao Niao hesitated, "...he also said that he failed to educate his daughter well and was truly ashamed of His Majesty's love."

"Oh, oh, what's the matter?" Lawrence actually blamed himself. "How can I blame him? It's clearly because I didn't discipline my son well, and his daughter suffered injustice."

Lawrence looked at Xiao Niao expectantly: "Did Banur say anything else?"

"The Grand Duke said he would bring the child to the palace later," Xiao Niao said, "and he said he would personally apologize to His Majesty."

Lawrence fell silent.

He slowly calmed down.

Lawrence understood the meaning of this sentence: Banur was afraid of his possible anger and decided to come to him in person to apologize - even though the person who made the mistake in this case was his son.

Lawrence is the emperor after all, and no one can guess the emperor's true thoughts: what if he insists on standing on the side of his own biological son, even if it means confusing right and wrong to protect the eldest prince's face?

There is nothing wrong with the Duke of Tudor's actions. He did this to protect his family and not give his children any handle that might be used to control them in the future.

Lawrence's originally anxious expression faded, and his hands on the throne seemed a little weak.

A trace of sadness flashed across the Emperor's brow, and it was a long time before he spoke again.

"What's the point of asking for apology or not?" Lawrence said sadly. "Banur and I grew up together as brothers... How could he say such things to hurt my feelings?"

"I know...I know."

"There's a tragically thick barrier between us."

After the emperor finished speaking, he was silent for a long time.

Lawrence suddenly became very tired. He called Xiaoniao over and repeatedly instructed him: Ask the etiquette officer to prepare the rewards for the Tudor family as soon as possible, send someone to deliver them, and all kinds of documents and statements must be in place.

She was also asked to announce part of the conclusions of the investigation in front of everyone, and to stop the slanderous and defamatory remarks so that the reputation of the Duke's daughter would not be damaged again.

After giving these instructions, Lawrence asked her to leave first.

Xiao Niao walked out of the magnificent marble palace step by step, leaving the emperor alone behind.

The little bird could see that Lao Yezhu was really sad.

But what can be done?

This is how the world works: the closer you get to the center of power, the fewer friends you have and the more enemies you make.

Chapter 18 The Tudor Children

Gwyneth woke up to the sound of dull, rhythmic knocking.

She turned her head drowsily, and her head sank into the soft goose down pillow, as if she was trapped in a warm and comfortable dream, making Gwen unwilling to wake up for a long time.

She placed her hand on the rose-red pillowcase, and gently moved her fingertips, touching the flower pattern embroidered on the edge of the cloth.

Gwyneth was so familiar with the pattern of the flower, the rose in the center surrounded by two circles of thin thorns, that she could recognize it accurately even with her eyes closed and relying only on touch.

This was the symbol of the Tudor family. She had returned home and was lying on the bed in her bedroom.

This thought sobered Gwyneth up a little. With amazing perseverance, she crawled out of bed and pushed herself up from the bed, unwilling to go back to sleep.

It was already past her usual morning wake-up time. The Duke of Tudor was quite strict in running his household and did not allow his children to slack off or be lazy. But today, the Duke of Tudor had given instructions in advance, so the nanny did not come to her room to wake her up, and indulged her to sleep in.

Gwyneth walked barefoot on the carpet and quickly went to the window - the rhythmic knocking sounds came from the window - and she reached out and pushed the window open.

Gwyneth's room faced the yard, and she could see the scene below by just leaning forward: in the yard surrounded by high walls, Eric Tudor was standing with his hands on his chest, meticulously instructing his younger brother Lucas in swordsmanship.

Thirteen-year-old Lucas Tudor was only as tall as his brother's waist. He held a heavy iron sword that was longer than his arm, chopping at the target in front of him a little clumsily, while having to endure his brother's ruthless criticism.

"The center of gravity is tilted again, stand firm quickly."

"Don't thrust your shoulder forward when you strike—are you going to give the sword away?"

"No power!"

Lucas:…

Lucas: Big brother is really noisy.

Under such strict instruction, Lucas was soon exhausted and sweating. He put his sword on the ground, panting, and wanted to sit down and rest for a while.

But the eldest brother Eric seemed dissatisfied. He felt that his younger brother was being lazy and slacking off.

The intensity of today's morning exercise is not up to standard.

Lucas pursed his lips and looked up unconsciously, seeing Gwyneth leaning on the windowsill, watching the two people doing their morning exercise with a raised lip.

"Sister!" Lucas threw the sword aside and waved vigorously at Gwyneth, "Sister, you're awake! Come down quickly!"

Eric also stopped what he was doing and looked up at Gwen.

Lucas was so eager that he seemed ready to take off: "Sister, come and teach me how to practice sword!"

I can't stand this face-slapping brother anymore!