Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

Chapter 1769: Impressions Of Prince Louis Decline Once More

Chapter 1769: Impressions of Prince Louis Decline Once More

In the spacious and elegant study, Prince Taylor was writing his self-criticism with great seriousness.

Several crumpled sheets had already been thrown into the waste bin, leaving the three outside waiting

for a good two hours...

He had spent two hours writing his self-criticism, and his attitude was far from perfunctory.

The royal physician's legs were aching from standing for so long, but he didn't dare to leave without

being dismissed. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

Two hours later, thedoor opened, and as Taylor was about to step out, he suddenly appeared in the

sight of the three people waiting outside. He paused for a moment, seemingly taken aback. "What are

you all doing here?"

"Your Highness," the royal physician quickly bowed respectfully.

Katherine, seeing her son's appearance, felt a pang of distress. The traces of blood around his mouth

had already dried. "I asked the royal physician to come and check on you, to help you recover more

quickly."

Taylor, holding the self-criticism in his hand, thought for a moment. "Wait here. I'll be back in a while."

With that, he left.

He also wanted treatment; the bruise on his face didn't look good, and it really hurt.

The royal physician's gaze fell on the paper folded twice in Taylor's hand; it seemed to be filled with

writing.

Where was he planning to take this self-criticism?

After a brief moment of doubt, a thought suddenly occurred to the royal physician-Did Prince Louis

make him write this self-criticism???

So... it wasn't surprising that the queen's expression had turned grim. Oh, Prince Louis was so

ignorant. Even if he was going to be the king, the queen was still his elder. Shouldn't he respect her?

So, the royal physician's impression of Prince Louis diminished once again.

As Rowan was returning to his palace with Claire, a passing guard quietly reported, "Your Highness,

Miss Russell, Prince Taylor is here, waiting for you in the hall."

Rowan paused for a moment, looked in the direction of the palace, and said, "Hmm." His handsome

face showed no emotion.

The guard respectfully saluted them and stepped aside, allowing the two to walk towards the palace.

Knowing that only Taylor had come and the queen hadn't, had he already finished writing the self-

criticism so quickly? His attitude of admitting his mistake seemed quite good.

The two entered the grand hall.

"Your Highness," a servant inside greeted them respectfully, "Miss Russell."

"Please, you may leave," Rowan said calmly, his gaze falling on Taylor, who had stopped not far away,

then he stood in front of him.

The two brothers locked eyes.

Soon, the spacious hall was left with only the three of them.

Rowan and Claire stood before Taylor. Rowan's expression was calm, his eyes coolly fixed on him.

Although he wasn't as angry as before, he still didn't seem very pleased.

Taylor shifted his gaze. "Brother, this is my self-criticism," he said, handing over the handwritten self-

criticism.

Rowan didn't immediately take it. Claire pursed her lips and slowly turned to look at him.

She noticed that he was staring at Taylor without a trace of anger in his eyes, only a sense of

disappointment.

Claire lightly touched Rowan's arm. After about five seconds, Rowan reached out with his left hand and

took the self-criticism.

Glancing briefly at the written words, he said calmly, "Whether I forgive you or not depends on how well

this self-criticism is written, how sincere it is. Since you are writing it seriously, rest assured, I will read it

seriously and not just throw it away."

Taylor, who had been listening, dared not look up. He knew he had gone too far, and this wouldn't end

easily.

Even Claire felt that Rowan's tone was incredibly cold, and yet, it was strangely pleasing to the ear. His

attitude was also incredibly composed!

After venting, he didn't intend to continue confronting his brother, but he still wanted to teach him a

lesson, to make sure he deeply remembered not to repeat such things. Yes, it was quite the elder

brother's style.