Favor and the Ninth Royal Uncle’s Stirring Feelings

Outside the palace, a striking man dressed in the regalia of a royal prince watched the scene unfold, his gaze cold and unreadable.

Unlike Adrian Dongling’s open disdain, Nolan Dongling’s flawless, jade-like face revealed the faintest trace of a smile.

“Serena Feng, you truly are something else. You fight when you want at the city gates, and walk away from the Empress’s palace as you please. I thought you’d die here today. I was ready to do General Feng a favor and have your body collected, so you wouldn’t be left to rot in the wild. But now, it seems that won’t be necessary…”

His voice was clear and untainted, with a hint of carefree arrogance—so compelling that one couldn’t help but want to hear more.

“Y-Your Highness?” The eunuch behind him swayed, dizzy with shock.

Heavens, what did he just witness? Their Ninth Royal Uncle actually smiled—and spoke so many words at once!

Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.

The eunuch rubbed his eyes furiously, wondering if he was seeing things, but the prince’s fleeting smile had already vanished.

What a pity!

Just as the eunuch was about to count on his fingers in confusion, the prince spoke again: “Go. Bring her a robe.”

With a wave of his hand, Nolan Dongling strode away in another direction, leaving the air charged with tension.

That woman was proud—too proud to beg for mercy.

It was rare for a woman to catch his eye; he helped her simply because he could.

For him, it was nothing more than the flick of a wrist.

But for her, it was a lifeline.

He told himself it was only for General Feng’s sake.

That was Nolan Dongling’s reasoning.

“Your Highness?”

With the prince gone, only a thoroughly bewildered eunuch remained.

Did he hear that right?