On a scale of one to a blood clot, how annoyed could the Imperial Crown Prince be?
A perfectly ticked three hundred at the very least.
Well, not at first. But the moment he realized just what was happening, Xavier felt veins that hadn't been too obvious before suddenly springing up.
But why?
Because of all the carefully planned strategies employed by nefarious individuals, he simply couldn't believe that this—of all things—would be the most effective.
"Oh my god! Martie! Come back here!"
The shrill cry cut cleanly through the hall, sharp enough to turn heads even among nobles who had spent their entire lives mastering composure.
And then came the problem.
A very round, very determined little problem.
