‘What could he possibly be writing so diligently?’

This was Sir Ralph’s first thought.

Jack was the self-proclaimed sly king of the underworld, someone infamous for his craftiness and shamelessness. Seeing him so focused on anything was a rare sight.

His second question revolved around the identity of the man napping on Penelope’s shoulder.

‘Who in the world would dare act so casually with the lord…?’

At that moment, Vince tapped Ralph on the shoulder, reminding him that he had yet to greet the lord.

“My lord, you called for me?”