Princess fell silent. After two or three breaths, she opened her mouth: “Father…”

The movement of speaking tugged at the bruises on her chin, causing her to pause. Yet the words that followed were not a complaint: “I beg you to take back your order, Father. Mr. Ian... Mr. Ian was just momentarily upset, he never meant to hurt your daughter.”

The Old Emperor: “……”

The Old Emperor: “Ha?”

Ian Lewis gave a faint smile. This was his confidence.

—He was well aware of Princess’s affection, and in fact, it disgusted him.

Princess Grace knew she was being pathetic, but… she really couldn’t bear to see Mr. Ian hurt…

So she looked timidly at The Old Emperor: “Father! I beg you!”

“Wait, wait—” The Old Emperor pressed his right hand hard against his brow, almost forcing the words out from his throat: “He brought his concubine to your sickbed and… copulated in front of you, and you’re still pleading for him?!”

The word “copulated” was a bit too crude; the prince consort clenched his fists in embarrassment.

Princess Grace turned even paler, and spoke with difficulty: “Father, you… how did you know…”

Could it be that the Jinyiwei had infiltrated so close to her without her noticing?

The Old Emperor gave a mysterious smile, as if everything was under his control.

Princess is a title of nobility, not an official post. The Prince Consort Commander is an official post, but not one with a seal of office; it’s a sinecure. None of them could hear Evan Foster’s inner voice—only the prince consort’s father, Duke of Song, could hear it, but he hadn’t told his son about it.

Mainly, Duke of Song didn’t know his son was playing around with Princess at home.

In short, if they had an official seal, they could hear someone’s lively thoughts—

[Princess might have been pua-ed, right?]

[No wonder, getting called vicious from time to time, probably often accused by that trash prince consort of stealing another woman’s place, and too embarrassed to confide in anyone, so she just silently endures it in the inner chambers, not even telling herself that she’s in love with a scumbag—how could she go on living like this.]

[Stupid scumbag, eating from one bowl while eyeing the pot, irresponsible, lacking any sense of duty, living off the prince consort’s salary, enjoying the status of imperial kin, not treating Princess well, even belittling and suppressing her—truly a piece of trash.]

[What a pity, Princess probably really thinks she can’t live without this scumbag, not realizing she’s being pua-ed.]

[Bleep—]

[Bleep—]

[Bleep—]

The Old Emperor glanced thoughtfully at Evan Foster.

Pi… pi what ai?

What does that mean?

He looked again, face cold, at his own daughter still pleading for the prince consort, thought for a moment, and suddenly a notion flashed through his mind.

“Grace.”

Princess Grace heard her father call her name and looked up at him, tears still glimmering in her eyes.

The Old Emperor stood, eyes lowered, staring at her, like a calm lake suddenly rippled by a stone, circles spreading outward.

“I appoint you to the position of Secretary in the Ministry of Revenue. Go take up your post there shortly.”

“What?” That was the bewildered Princess Grace.

“What?” That was the bewildered Minister of Revenue.

Chancellor Dawson: “But…”

A single look from The Old Emperor, and Chancellor Dawson, full of words, dared not speak. He could only frown at Princess Grace, hoping she’d have the sense to refuse on her own.

Princess Grace at first didn’t understand why her father made such an arrangement, but when she caught the flash of resentment on the prince consort’s face, she suddenly understood everything.

In Great Xia, the prince consort holds no real office. No matter how talented you are, once you become prince consort, you’re not allowed to be an official, nor to associate with court ministers—otherwise, you’ll be punished for forming factions and private alliances.

Ian Lewis had always been bothered by this, and his poor attitude toward her was partly because he had to stay away from officialdom.

If she hadn’t insisted on making him prince consort, he should have shone brilliantly before the world, rising swiftly through the ranks, becoming a pillar of her father’s court.

It’s all my fault…

I owe him…

And now he’s angered Father again, and Father is deliberately mocking him with this…

After a brief silence, Princess Grace said softly, “I accept the decree.” Feeling the prince consort’s angry and resentful gaze, she never dared look back.

Prince consort…

In her heart, Princess Grace whispered: Hate me if you must. Only by pleasing Father can I get him to let you go.

The Old Emperor laughed heartily, patting Princess on the head: “Good child.”

Princess Grace forced a smile.

The Old Emperor patted her head again, kindly saying, “As for a man, Father will find you another, a better one…”

“No! Father! No, no!” Princess Grace cut The Old Emperor off directly, shaking her head and crying: “Father! Please! I beg you, Mr. Ian is innocent! It was… it was I who forced him, I made him marry me! If not for that, he could have been with his beloved, it was me who insisted…”

[Ah, so it really is pua.]

A voice suddenly rang out.

Princess Grace couldn’t quite hide the subtle change in her expression.

That voice was as soft as silk, as gentle as a breeze, floating lightly through the air. Every syllable was clear and pure, enchanting and unforgettable.

If the voice was so beautiful, then the person…

Princess Grace was a sucker for looks—otherwise, she wouldn’t have fallen for the prince consort at first sight and insisted on marrying no one else.