The Knighting and the Conspiracy

For Yodel, his main purpose here was to rub shoulders with the big shots and discuss cooperation with Cecilia.

This was also the first time Yodel had seen the King of the Three Islands—Henry VI.

The old king had already been middle-aged when he was crowned, and today he appeared even more decrepit.

But His Majesty was still in good health, at least able to stand straight on the stage for nearly half an hour, finishing his speech with a strong voice.

After the memorial ceremony for the victims, the medal presentation began.

The old king took a cross medal from a velvet box and personally pinned it to Yodel’s chest.

He smiled warmly at Yodel and gently patted his shoulder as a sign of commendation and encouragement.

“Thank you for saving the people of the kingdom. You are now a knight.”

Of course, this so-called knighthood was purely honorary, without any fiefdom, essentially more like a title of honor.

But Yodel didn’t care much about that; instead, he valued the medal, not out of vanity, but because he wanted to keep it as a collectible.

Many people had made outstanding contributions during the defense of Landon, and Yodel was followed by several others.

After coming down from the stage, he sat to the side, watching the old king award medals while observing the guests in attendance.

The Prime Minister, Haite Bosi, was sharing some of the award duties on behalf of the old king, bustling with activity.

The second prince, Frank Windsor, sat together with Cecilia, whispering about something. Yodel found it inconvenient to go over and talk to Cecilia.

Hmm…

Yodel looked around more carefully but still couldn’t find the person he was looking for.

“How strange. Where is the eldest prince, Eck Windsor?”

Until the medal ceremony ended, the eldest prince did not appear.

On the south bank of the Thames, the eldest prince, Eck Windsor, sat in the back seat of a car, flipping through a book in his hand.

He had just finished handling some matters at the Landon City Hall on behalf of the royal family and was rushing nonstop to Buckingham Palace.

The driver turned back apologetically: “Sorry, Your Highness, we might be late. At this rate, we’ll probably miss the medal ceremony.”

Eck glanced at his watch and said, “There’s nothing we can do about it; the schedule is too tight… Watch out! Look ahead!”

The driver quickly turned back and only then noticed a child who had somehow darted into the middle of the convoy. Seeing the approaching car, the child stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

He slammed on the brakes, jerked the steering wheel, the tires screeching. The prince, who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, was thrown and slammed into the car door.

Fortunately, the car wasn’t going fast. It stopped less than a meter from the boy, drawing gasps from the passersby.

The terrified boy seemed to snap back to reality. He sat down on the ground and burst into tears.

But the driver didn’t get out first to check on the boy; instead, he hurried to the back seat to check on the prince.

Sweating profusely, he said, “Your Highness, are you alright!”

“I’m fine.” The prince, holding his bruised arm, jumped out of the car. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he heard crying from the front of the car.

“Your Highness, the boy is fine. Let’s continue on our way.”

But Eck didn’t get back in the car. He waved at the driver:

“We’re already late anyway, a few more minutes won’t matter. I’m worried about that child.”

Walking to the front of the car, Eck knelt down in front of the tear-streaked boy.

He gently tapped the boy’s forehead, and with his other hand, magically produced a candy out of thin air.

Seeing the boy captivated by the suddenly appearing candy, forgetting to cry, Eck grinned triumphantly.

This was a trick he had learned specifically to cheer up Cecilia when she was sick.

He continued to amuse the boy in various ways until the child’s parents came looking for him. Only then did Eck get back into the car and leave.

The whole delay was about ten minutes.

By the time the eldest prince arrived at Buckingham Palace, the medal ceremony was already over.

As soon as he stepped into the banquet hall, he noticed his sister talking in a corner with a black-haired young man.

This black-haired young man was naturally Yodel. After a long wait, he had finally found an opportunity to speak with Cecilia.

The suspicious eldest prince was about to approach and ask what was going on when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Brother, I have something important to discuss with you.” Frank, holding a wine glass, called out to Eck, who was about to chase after them.

Eck frowned: “Frank? What important matter? Does it have to be now?”

Before he finished speaking, he made a move to leave.

Seeing this, Frank wasn’t worried at all. Instead, he chuckled inwardly. He had a foolproof method that he was confident would not only keep Eck but also lead him straight into the trap.

Putting on an overjoyed expression, Frank said to Eck:

“Brother, I’ve found a way to cure Cecilia!”

Eck’s footsteps halted immediately, frozen in place.

Frank’s fake smile carried a hint of contempt; he knew he had succeeded.

“Really? Tell me about it!” Eck quickly turned back and grabbed Frank’s hand.

“Do you think I would joke about Cecilia’s illness? The Northern Continent Dominion has presented a secret medicine. According to reports, it has cured no less than ten tuberculosis patients. I was just about to go with you to see the sample.”

Looking at his sister walking away, then turning back to Frank, Eck quickly made a decision.

This was Buckingham Palace; it was unlikely that anything would happen to his sister. And her illness had always been a dark cloud hanging over Eck.

Weighing the two options, he decided to first go with Frank to see the secret medicine sample and then later find Cecilia to ask about that black-haired young man.

“Alright, lead the way. I’ll go with you to have a look.”

Frank remained expressionless on the surface but was laughing inside.

“Thank you, my dear brother, for being so foolish, so shortsighted, so easily deceived.”

“If you weren’t this stupid, why would I go so far as to get my hands dirty just to seize the throne?

“If you had even a shred of cunning and depth, you wouldn’t have fallen for the trap so easily. Blame yourself.”

In the dark night, the two left Buckingham Palace.

Frank walked quickly ahead, but Eck assumed he was just as eager to see the miraculous medicine that could cure their sister.

It wasn’t until they reached the Thames that Eck sensed something was off.

Too quiet—both Frank, who was leading the way, and the guards around them.

“Eck, how much longer do we have to walk?” Frank stopped.

“We’re here, Your Highness…”

“Frank? What did you call me?”

“Frank” turned around with a smile, his face gradually becoming illusory and distorted.