"Did Yang Ming walk back to prison from outside?"
Edwan looked at the intelligence officer in front of him, his body involuntarily leaning back as a slight smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
He turned his head to glance at the beautiful woman laughing and playing with several maids on the nearby tennis court.
That was a Princess of the Sherman Empire, one with a claim to the throne, although she was quite far down the line of succession.
Similarly, this Princess was nominally Edwan's lover, and they had shared some private moments after dismissing the maids, getting along reasonably well.
Yet, Edwan knew that this was a typical royal romance destined to amount to nothing.
"Your Highness," the intelligence officer smiled, "do you want to summon Viscount Yang Ming?"
"Summon?"
Edwan frowned, "I don't like that word. In the future, regarding Yang Ming, treat him as an equal to me. He is my dearest friend, you understand."
"Yes, Your Highness."
