Unfazed, the man exclaimed: "You should be ashamed. You have no moral standards or sense of decency? She is the Crown Prince's woman!"
The next instant, with promptness and without warning, the tip of a sword's blade glinted in Ishiro's eyes and flew dangerously close to his throat. And Emika gave a little gasp.
Jian had always been like Shufeng's shadow, with steps so weightless, moving fast and skilfully; and where the prince was, Jian would be nearby. "How dare you confront His Highness?! If you apologise to His Highness, your insolence will be forgiven."
Ishirō was a muscular man, who, with his excellent fighting techniques and his usual sangfroid—both characteristics acquired from all his intense military training and his experience of facing dangers on the battlefields—did not the least appeared threatened when the bodyguard's sword pressed against his neck.
