NovelEnglishChapter 1788 Taylor is Quite Cute
"I've taken care of this mess for you. Otherwise, you would be the headline news. Do you want to ruin your reputation as Prince
Taylor? Letting people gossip about your carefree attitude and lack of discretion?"
"I've already written my self-criticism. Do you have to keep on about it?" Taylor felt a bit depressed, rebelliously glaring at her. "Go
on and mind your own business! Don't hover overevery day!"
"Don't keep staring at Claire." Catherine warned her son again. "She's your sister-in-law, that's an unchangeable fact. You must
accept it from the bottom of your heart!"
"I got it!" Taylor was really annoyed. "Hurry up and leave! Stop bringing that up!"
Catherine knew he had taken her words in, so she put down the ointment and calmly said to him, "Then rest well. I'll go check on
the progress of the castle's construction."
She had been concerned about this matter all along, checking on it from tto time, because once the castle was built, she had
other plans in mind.
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After his mother left, Taylor still sat in front of the mirror, playing with the ointment Prince Louis had sent over. Its effect was
surprisingly good?
It was like a magical elixir.
He had been through countless bumps and bruises since childhood, the worst being when he fell off his bike and it took four
months for his knee to heal.
If he had had this stuff back then, it probably would have only taken three days to recover, right?
So when he heard that this ointment was developed by Louis himself, Taylor inexplicably admired him a bit more. To study
medicine to his level was really impressive.
After sconsideration, he looked at himself in the mirror. He could go out and see people now. He had been cooped up in the
palace recently and needed sfresh air.
So he put down the ointment and got up to leave.
Ten minutes later.
Prince Louis's palace, in the study.
Rowan had just finished a pleasant conversation with two dukes about the procedures for the succession ceremony. The two dukes
had just left when a servant knocked on the door and entered.
Rowan stood at the desk, ready to leave, and when he saw someone cin, he stopped and focused his gaze on the servant.
"Hello, Your Highness," the servant respectfully bowed after entering, then stood still and reported, "Prince Taylor is here. He would
like to see you."
Upon hearing this, Rowan was somewhat surprised. The last the saw Taylor was when he went to his palace to deliver
medicine, and he was so beaten up that it was difficult for him to even get out of bed.
The tbefore that, he personally cover to deliver a self-criticism.
Rowan didn't say anything, he stepped out.
Hearing the footsteps, Taylor looked up. His expression was indifferent, almost like a fish with a seven-second memory. He didn't
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmseem to feel guilty, as the self-criticism had already been written.
Seeing Taylor standing in the hall, still the sas before, his swollen face had almost returned to normal. Rowan walked towards
him and stood in front of him, scrutinizing him, unable to guess why he had ctoday.
"Brother," Taylor spoke without any awkwardness, using the saddress as that day, regardless of whether the other accepted it.
There was a firmness in his eyes.
To be honest, Rowan was surprised deep down.
But Taylor's compromise and concession left Rowan unable to be proud or dismissive. He couldn't ignore him, so he asked, "Do you
want something to drink?"
"I'm fine with anything," Taylor replied. "I'm not picky about tea. Anything that quenches my thirst will do. | have something to
discuss with you today."
Then Rowan instructed the servant, "Brew a pot of Pu'er tea for Prince Taylor."
"Yes."
Then Rowan gestured, "Cand sit over here." As he spoke, he turned and walked towards the chair.
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