Female Knight and Male Princess

It is May, and the weather is not hot yet. The cool breeze is slow at night, in this garden where the flowers and trees are sparsely sparse, the slight insects and the silver moonlight form a quiet and distant picture, with the unique refreshingness of late spring. Lan Weiwei and Tyler were sitting on the wooden chairs in the courtyard. Tyler put on a cloak, and the two looked at the night sky quietly without speaking.

Lan Weiwei could feel that Taylor's mood seemed to improve. How is this going? It seems a little inappropriate to bring up the previous topic now. She thought for a while: "Um, Tyler, you don't seem to know me well."

Lan Weiwei's life is actually very ordinary. Before her parents were killed in a car accident at the age of eleven, she was like the only daughter of countless working families. Although she was not rich, she was still loved and loved. Until that nightmare day, she survived, and her life after that seemed to be no different from the past.

In addition to being more lonely, Lan Weiwei is still the Lan Weiwei, but that Lan Weiwei is not the Lan Weiwei she wants to be.

Lan Weiwei has never talked about this to anyone, the suffering, sadness, she feels that the past is over, people can't always indulge in the passing things, can they?

But I don't know why, originally she just wanted to find a topic, but she said a lot to Taylor in a head. Is it because I think he can understand himself? Or am I beginning to rely on him gradually?

The girl's heart is heavy and ups and downs. She is a very slow emotional person. At this time, she can't realize that her feelings for Taylor are not only dependent on it. Perhaps at first, this feeling was just out of gratitude to Taylor, but as it flew away, it gradually fermented and eventually turned into a sweet fruit.

"Now, I think we are a bit similar." Lan Weiwei smiled and looked at Taylor, her brows and eyes curled like a flowing autumn water.

Taylor felt that he was a little silly. He listened to Lan Weiwei talking about his past, and the image of the girl became more vivid. The cute and shy little squirrel, besides smiling foolishly, she also cried bitterly. pass.

The great satisfaction grabbed Taylor's heart, and she took the initiative to tell me about her past. God knows how much Tyler wants to know Lan Weiwei, no matter what it is, as long as it is related to her, I want to know. But out of an inexplicable arrogance, he never took the initiative to ask about these.

At the same time, what occupies more of his heart is a strong distress. I don't want you to cry. The pain grabbed him and made him feel that his blood was throbbing.

I want to touch her, want to hug her gently.

Tyler's hand fell on Lan Weiwei's cheek. The skin under his palm was warm and tender, making him feel like falling in a dream, and as if he was in the clouds.

"Taylor." Lan Weiwei's low and soft voice sounded, "You blush."

The young man took away his hand like lightning, and he turned his head abruptly: "Who...who blushes?! You are wrong!"

But it was too late, and the blush spread rapidly, and in an instant it covered Taylor's entire cheek. The temperature on his cheeks was frighteningly hot, and Taylor took a deep breath, even the exhaled breath seemed to be boiling.

Lan Weiwei laughed out loud. Tyler like this is the cutest. He looks like a shy little boy, staring at herself bitterly. Lan Weiwei couldn't help laughing louder, and the crisp laughter echoed in the courtyard, awakening the dream in the moonlit night.

"You!" Taylor wanted to say something to restore the decline, but in the end, he could only flick his sleeves away angrily. That back figure seemed to be embarrassing no matter how you looked at it.

"Taylor." Lan Weiwei called to him from behind, "Thank you." She said, "I am very happy to meet you."

Early the next morning, Lan Weiwei appeared in front of everyone with two dark circles under her eyes. After returning home last night, she cut pancakes for most of the night on the bed, and did not fall asleep until the dawn was faint. Seeing Taylor again, Lan Weiwei felt a little embarrassed.

Damn, this kind of girl is pregnant. What is the feeling of spring? We obviously only had pure and touching friendship exchanges last night. Is it really because the relationship has been empty for too long...

"Weiwei, morning." Orville greeted Lan Weiwei with a smile, "Come and eat, we're going to the palace later."

"Huh? Can't you say it?"

"His Royal Highness sent someone here early this morning, hoping that His Highness must go to the palace to stay for a while, but His Highness refused to resign, so he agreed."

Lan Weiwei turned her head to look at Matthew. This guy had a stinky face, poking the bread in the plate as if venting his anger, and constantly muttering: "Hate, hate, hate..."

Oh my God, is he a kid from the kindergarten? Lan Weiwei couldn't bear to look straight.

Arthur leaned forward to Matthew with a drooling look: "Brother Matthew, can you still eat bread?"

Matthew poked the plate of bread intently: "Hate, hate, hate..."

Tyler couldn't help rolling his eyes. He pushed the plate in front of Arthur: "Ignore him, Arthur, mine is for you."

Arthur happily picked up the plate and began to gobble it up. His cheeks were stuffed like a prairie dog, and his mouth was vague and authentic: "Brother Taylor...Thank you...hiccup..."

Taylor stood up: "If everyone is finished, let's enter the palace as soon as possible. Prince Transy is waiting for us."

Matthew slapped the fork on the table heavily. He raised his head, looked at Taylor angrily, and yelled, "I hate it!"

Taylor squinted at Matthew: "Huh?"

"..." Matthew slumped immediately.

He was dejectedly carried by Orville into the carriage, and everyone went all the way, until they saw Prince Tracy Scott in the main hall, and Matthew didn't look up at his father.

Scott was nearly 50 years old, and his gray hair was neatly groomed. He was dressed in a prince's exclusive gown, was tall and had a stern face. It can be seen that when Scott was young, he must have been a handsome young man. He saluted Taylor with respect and dignity, and greeted everyone, except for his son.

The father and son are like two strangers, not giving each other a glimpse of the corner of their eyes. The atmosphere in the hall was stiff and cold, but no one said anything, everyone was clear and commonplace, watching Matthew and Scott pass by.

"Yeah." Matthew lay down on the soft bedding and stretched out comfortably. As soon as he left Scott, he returned to the usual sloppy youth, "My bed is still the most comfortable."

Taylor walked into the room: "Get up."

"What's the matter?" Matthew's voice came out of the bedding, looking dull.

"I call you up!"

"I won't get up." Matthew refused stubbornly, like a stubborn child.

Taylor sighed: "When do you want to do this?" He saw Matthew stay silent, and gently sat beside Matthew, "I don't want you to regret it, Matthew. I don't want you to regret..."

"Shit..." Matthew actually sneered, "Did you think of yourself? Tyler."

"Yes, I thought about myself." Taylor admitted calmly, "If one day... I mean, if one day Scott passes away, you will regret it."

"Come on, Tyler, I'm not the same as you." Matthew turned over and sat up, "I won't forgive him, but I won't be able to come back forever. Don't worry." He looked at Tyler in a casual tone. "I have to carry something I don't want. After all, I'm still a prince."

Taylor stood up: "That's good." He was about to walk away.

"Wait." Matthew stopped him. "Really, Taylor, do you think you should regret it?" Taylor froze. Matthew didn't wait for Taylor to answer, or he didn't care about Taylor's answer at all. "Do you think that is all your fault? I don't understand, Tyler, why do you always like to take things to yourself?"

"Shut up." Taylor lowered his head.

But Matthew didn't pay attention to him at all: "I admit how I blamed me. Because to the old man, I really have no conscience. But Taylor, between you and her, the wrong person is her, not you! "

"Shut up!" Tyler turned around abruptly. He clenched his fist, screaming like it was squeezing out between his teeth.

"Why should I shut up?" Matthew sneered, "Because you don't want to admit it, no matter how you confess, no matter how you beg, she will never look at you! Because she doesn't love you at all! Even if she I'm dead, I haven't loved you a bit!"

"Shut up!" Taylor strangled Matthew's neck fiercely, his eyes flushed, "I don't allow you to accuse her like this! Never allow it!"

Because of her, it's my mother...

"Mom." Taylor looked at the woman in front of him curiously and happily. He wanted to reach out to grab the corner of the woman's skirt. His small palm desperately tried to reach it, but he couldn't reach it for a while.

The woman found a rustling noise behind her, and she turned her head away. At that moment, that beautiful face quickly distorted: "It's you..." Her voice became horrified, "It's you...you sinner!"

Taylor was stunned, and the woman severely pulled the skirt corners out of the boy's hands. She seemed to see something dirty, trying to avoid contact with the boy.

"Sinner... Sinner..."

The two-year-old child still didn't understand anything, but the fear and disgust in his mother's eyes stung him, and Taylor burst into tears.

"Sinner...you are a sinner..." The muttering whisper surrounded his ears, like an immortal curse.

"His Royal Highness!" The female officials discovered that the little prince had sneaked into this hidden stone temple. They picked up the crying boy in panic, and they didn't dare to look at the queen, and they were about to leave in a hurry.

"Mom! Mom!" Tyler struggled desperately, and he reached out to the woman, "Mom, hug! Hug!"

The woman became even more hysterical. She flicked Taylor's hand away: "Go away! You sinner, don't come near me! Go away!"

"Your Majesty, please don't do this!" The female officials didn't dare to stay. They held Tyler firmly and left the gloomy house. The little prince cried all the way, watching his mother get further and further away from him.

Taylor's voice was hoarse by the time he snuggled in his father's arms. Istanbul stroked his son's thin back: "Taylor, baby, don't cry, Dad is here."

"Dad." Tyler raised his little head, he looked at his father aggrievedly and sadly, "Mom is there, I want mom..."

Istambu didn’t know how to respond. Tears poured out of the boy’s eye sockets drop by drop. He gently wiped the tears from Tyler’s face: "Taylor..." The man’s voice was dull and hoarse, "Never go there, then Not your mother."