A few words left Emily Clark utterly terrified. She fell to her knees with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly as she pleaded, “Your Highness, have I done something wrong? Are you really going to drive me out of the palace? If so, please punish me, but I will never leave this place!”

“There’s nothing good about staying in the palace. Have you forgotten how you got all those injuries?” Ethan Foster was completely hidden in the shadows of the corner, his expression unreadable. “I can’t protect any of you. Why do you still follow such a useless master like me? Now that you have Dr. Brooks as your father, at the very least you could marry into a good family. Why keep suffering in the palace?”

Emily Clark finally understood that her master was determined to send her away. Though a trace of warmth filled her heart, it was overwhelmed by a wave of pain. She looked pleadingly at her newly acknowledged father, signaling for him to intercede on her behalf. She truly couldn’t bear to leave her master alone in this cold, bone-chilling Fenghua Palace. For this, she was willing to endure more beatings, and now, she still couldn’t give up the only young man who made her heart flutter, even for the promise of a comfortable future.

“Your Highness, I understand your good intentions,” Matthew Brooks said after a moment’s thought, having come up with an idea. “But this isn’t appropriate. You must know, Emily Clark was injured because of Consort Yu’s beating. If she leaves the palace with me now, it will surely arouse suspicion about you and your mother. I am only a fifth-rank imperial physician. If Consort Yu suspects I am deliberately opposing her, I could never atone for it, even with my life. Please reconsider, Your Highness.” With that, he too knelt down.

Ethan Foster had never truly wanted Emily Clark to leave his side; this was merely a slight test. After nearly a month of diligently studying historical records, he had finally grasped some imperial strategies, and today he decided to try them out on his most trusted people—and it worked. He was now completely certain of the reliability of Matthew Brooks and Emily Clark, and his mood calmed a little. He knew that as long as he remained in this deep palace, he might have to live in suspicion forever. However, he was determined to ensure that the power and influence he held would match his noble status, no matter the cost.

Feigning helplessness, Ethan Foster nodded, signaling his agreement with the two. “By the way, do you know anything about that Daoist who recently arrived at the palace?” He was so curious about this that he had often eavesdropped on the palace servants’ gossip, but had never managed to learn anything useful.

Given the gravity of the matter, Matthew Brooks dared not speak carelessly. There were many examples of people who had brought disaster upon themselves by recklessly discussing imperial affairs. But Emily Clark didn’t care about such things—after all, everyone here was someone she trusted most, and besides, if she had to choose, her loyalty lay with Ethan Foster. “Your Highness, I can’t say for certain, but there’s a seventy percent chance that this Daoist Master Mingfang is here to help the Emperor decide on the crown prince.”

As soon as she said this, both Ethan Foster and Matthew Brooks felt their hearts skip a beat—this bold girl really dared to speak her mind. Ethan Foster pretended to ask casually, “Emily Clark, I’ve rarely left Fenghua Palace over the years, so none of this really concerns me. But in your opinion, which of my brothers is most likely to claim the position of crown prince?”

At these words, Matthew Brooks couldn’t help but look at this always indifferent prince with suspicion. Ever since his mysterious recovery, he had changed greatly—sometimes Matthew Brooks even wondered if someone else had taken over his body. Even he found this idea absurd, but now, the thought surfaced again, unbidden.

“If you ask me who is most likely to become crown prince, I’m not boasting, but it’s definitely between the Third Prince, the Fifth Prince, and the Eleventh Prince.” A glint of intelligence shone in Emily Clark’s eyes. At this moment, she no longer seemed like a lowly maid, but rather a strategist standing beside the king, pointing out the fate of the nation. Both Ethan Foster and Matthew Brooks were left staring in amazement.

Chapter 9: The Adventure Plan

Listening to Emily Clark analyze the strengths and weaknesses of each prince and the forces behind them, Ethan Foster felt a sense of astonishment toward the red-clad girl before him for the first time. Excited, he stood up, and regardless of Matthew Brooks’s presence, pulled the still-talking Emily Clark into his arms. This sudden move left both Matthew Brooks and Emily Clark completely stunned.

Emily Clark wanted nothing more than to stay a little longer in the arms of the one she loved—the feeling was intoxicating. Yet, in a daze, she remembered her own status. Carefully freeing herself from Ethan Foster’s embrace, she tidied her disheveled hair and softly said, “Your Highness, I am just a palace maid. If someone sees us, they’ll say I’m seducing my master.”

“Emily Clark, do you know? Only now do I realize I can’t live without you.” Ethan Foster’s piercing gaze was fixed on Emily Clark’s face. “Everything you just said was exactly what I was desperate to know. A sickly prince can’t protect you, but a prince with real power can—he can give you everything.” His voice was filled with passion, so much so that even Matthew Brooks was moved.

“I’ve never had any ambition for the throne,” Ethan Foster said frankly, “but if I keep retreating, I’ll always be trampled underfoot, and no one will remember me, the Seventh Prince. So, I won’t let this opportunity slip by. That’s why I need your help.”