Julius pressed his lips into a thin line, his fists clenched at his sides as his chest heaved. The thought of Maverick attending a dinner with Princess Abigail ignited every nerve in his body, but then he remembered Maverick's words before leaving: "Don't make any trouble while I'm gone."
Julius exhaled, a long, defeated sigh escaping him. Instead of erupting into a storm of fury, he limply walked back to the bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress.
Wolfgang, who had been eagerly anticipating some drama, slumped in disappointment.
Henry, standing by the door, observed Julius with quiet admiration. For Julius to hold back his temper—a rare feat—was nothing short of miraculous.
Bowing slightly, Henry spoke. "Well then, Your Highness, I will be turning in for the night. Please be careful when I'm not around. Have a good rest."
Julius's ears perked up at the subtle emphasis in Henry's words, though his face remained buried in the bed.
