The Fourth Prince reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt with force, bringing his face close to his, and said fiercely, "You, a lowly servant, dare to despise this Prince as ugly? Do you believe I won't kill you."
"The servant did not say the Fourth Prince is ugly." The steward closed his eyes, not daring to look at the Fourth Prince's blackened left eye.
"Then why do you not dare to look at this Prince?"
At this moment, the Fourth Prince's voice turned into a roar, his hands tightening their grip, wishing he could kill the steward, this lowly servant dared to despise him?
At this moment, all royal etiquette, for the Fourth Prince, was fleeting like clouds; venting his inner dissatisfaction was what felt real.
The steward, being choked, was gasping for air, his eyes rolling back constantly, trying hard to move his lips and say, "Fourth... Fourth Prince... have... mercy!"
The other servants, having been frightened for a long time, hid far away, not daring to come over.
