"This batch of arms can be considered as one of the betrothal gifts I send to her."
The word "betrothal gifts" made the Prime Minister's smile grow deeper in meaning, "Young Master Shannon is truly a rare devoted person, Miss Cecilia Branford is quite fortunate."
Under the dining table, Sophie Sullivan's hand pinched Thomas Shannon's thigh fiercely, glaring at him without a sound. What nonsense is he talking about!
What betrothal gifts, nothing's written yet, how can he be so shamelessly thick-skinned?
The words were already spoken to this extent, if the Prime Minister still didn't understand, he wouldn't have made it to this position.
Thomas Shannon's intention was obvious, as long as the No.1 Beauty in Country F was willing to marry him, arms wouldn't be an issue.
In other words, if they wanted his agreement, they had to please the woman beside him first.
If his woman was happy, he'd be happy.
