“What, picked up another minion already? That what you’ve been doing at the palace?”
At that jab, Sinyeong’s expression tightened, and he gripped Hwaan’s arm even harder.
“Who are you calling a minion?”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, twisting Hwaan’s arm further.
“Argh! Do you even know who I am?!”
“Do you know who I am, speaking to me like that?”
“Who the hell are you?!”
Hwaan shrieked again, and this time, Hwayeong answered for him.
“His Highness, the Crown Prince.”
That short reply brought Hwaan’s screaming to a halt.
He blinked, taking a moment to piece things together.
Then his eyes widened as he remembered the black-clad royal guards who’d come with Sohwa.
“You made the Crown Prince your minion?”
He stared at Hwayeong, eyes wide—half in disbelief, half in awe.
“That’s my sister... ARGH!”
Sinyeong gave his arm another sharp twist, leaned in, and whispered into Hwaan’s ear,
“Not a minion. Your Highness.”
“A-ah... Your Highness....”
