Princess Cromwell and Her Six Brothers
Their master had once dealt with people with bloodstained hands without so much as blinking—what was this now?
But at least, finally, they didn’t have to park the car far away every time.
Had the young master finally earned his place?
The bodyguards exchanged silent glances.
As Amelia picked out vegetables, Carl followed behind her.
“You eat white r****h?” she asked, tilting her head.
Carl watched her long hair sway. “No flavor.”
“What about winter melon?”
“The texture is bad.”
“Carrots?” She narrowed her eyes.
Carl thought for a moment, frowning. “They have a Fisherrd taste.”