"What are your Silver City Black Knights plotting? Where did they go?" Marquis Borton pounded furiously on the room's door, but how could an ordinary man like him smash through a door on an airship? His hands were bleeding, yet the door remained completely unharmed.
Old Eleven leaned against the door outside, holding a glass cup of ice cream in one hand and a small pure-gold spoon in the other.
He said lightly, "Borton, this isn't something you can get involved in. Instead of worrying about your butler, you should worry about your wife." Borton paused. "Why should I worry about my wife? She's the royal Fifth Princess. Who would dare touch her?"
Old Eleven let out a laugh. "You really are useless. You don't know anything. Duke Storm is about to inherit the throne, and he'll certainly clear away every obstacle before he takes power. Among them, the Second Prince and the Fifth Princess are his greatest rivals. You don't understand Fate Weavers, do you? They like to nip every danger in the bud, so the Second Prince and Fifth Princess are doomed."
"My wife is the king's favorite daughter. How could he allow Duke Storm to do that?" Borton was stunned. Old Eleven thought for a moment. "It seems you really don't understand the Fate Weaver family..."
Marquis Borton's voice gradually lowered. "Can you save her?" Old Eleven scratched his head. "Wake up. We Black Knights aren't some righteous heroes. It's already merciful enough that we aren't personally killing the Fifth Princess... Of course, without orders, we can't be bothered to do such things. So by now, the king has surely given the Fifth Princess's true name to Duke Storm. For a demigod Arbiter to kill an A-rank with black magic is quite easy."
"Then what are you