NOVPUBChapter 1505: 675 Bewitching_1 Chapter 1505: 675 Bewitching_1 “Prince, let’s go.
I’ve asked around, and there’s nothing major going on. 𝒏𝒐𝙫𝙥𝙪𝙗.𝒄𝙤𝙢
The Saintess and the Holy Master will never leave the Holy Temple, and you won’t do any good squatting here until the world falls apart.” The guard reminded nearby.
Aspen rubbed his numb legs, grimacing, “They will show up on their coronation day, won’t they?”
The guard was exasperated, “Prince, what exactly do you want to do?
This is not Ambrosia, no one will cover for you if you cause trouble.
Just listen to the princess.”
Aspen glared at him fiercely, impatiently saying, “Fine, fine, let’s go back to the hotel.
I’ve been squatting here for days, I stink.”
When the two returned to the hotel, Aspen noticed that there were more guards at the entrance, and some had Eastern faces.
...
In a low voice, the guard said, “A few days ago, the delegation from Jimenez arrived and checked into this hotel.
They’re staying at the top floor but won’t interfere with you, Your Highness.”
“Why do they get to stay at the top?” Graciela was very unhappy: “I want to stay at the top too.
Where is the manager, I want to complain.”
The guard was helpless; Graciela was a troublemaker.
In fact, this hotel was a Super Seven Star Hotel.
Its luxuriousness was jaw-dropping.
The hotel had nine floors in total.
Each floor was equipped with its exclusive entertainment area, card rooms, gym, dining kitchen, and swimming pool.
They had everything one could ask for.
There were over thirty delegations coming to observe the ceremony, six of which were heavyweight delegations housed in the seven-star hotel.
The others had to stay in regular five-star hotels.
Why wasn’t Graciela happy?
Because the most luxurious part of the seven-star hotel was its rooftop, which had an open-air swimming pool!
To the pleasure-loving prince, throwing an open-air pool party was the real deal.
The hotel manager had a tough time placating the young prince, but before he could catch his breath, Rainbow Lady’s secretary came with a complaint about the humidity not being up to par, demanding a solution.
The manager was helpless, everyone was making unreasonable demands.
The delegation from Jimenez on the top floor, since their arrival, had been very quiet without any demands.
This pleased the manager greatly.
As expected from a well-behaved country, their self-restraint was admirable.
In the rooftop open-air pool, there was a swimmer with graceful strokes navigating the water with ease.
Behind a flower bed, a pair of eyes vigilantly scanned the surroundings.
The man emerged from the pool, water splashing off his body.
The sunlight accentuated his muscular physique, stimulating an admiring sensation in anyone who glanced.
Wide shoulders, narrow waist, and clearly defined abs across his exposed stomach.
“One, two…
six, seven…!” Graciela’s eyes widened.
Oh my goodness, eight-pack abs.
How handsome.
Graciela could feel his nostrils warming up, something was oozing out, but he paid no mind.
The man picked up a nearby towel, draped it over himself, picked up a bottle of mineral water and began to gulp it down.
He was silhouetted against the light, water droplets lingering in his hair.
His jawline was sharp, his silhouette was appealing in a way that could shatter one’s sanity.
Graciela snorted subconsciously, almost choking on his nosebleed.
With a cold gaze, the swimmer swept a look at him.
Sheepishly, Graciela stepped out with his hands up, “It’s, it’s me.”
Seeing the blond-hair and blue-eyed young man who seemed quite cute but had a dull gaze and smeared blood on his face, the swimmer couldn’t help feeling disgusted.
A guard rushed in instantly, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s my fault.”
As the words fell, he tried to take Graciela away.
Graciela quickly jumped up, “I am a prince, you cannot touch me.”
The guard looked towards Anton Cook.
Mr.
Cook disliked having a guard around, especially when swimming.
His guards would retreat.
With the top floor being secure, he didn’t expect any strangers to barge in.
He had just relaxed his eyes for a moment, and trouble had already ensued.
Anton Cook coldly stared at Graciela, “Don’t look at me like that.”
His fluency in English was impressive.
Graciela gave a smirk, “Alright, alright, whatever the beauty says.”
Anton Cook flung a water bottle at him, “Get out, don’t let me see you again.”
Graciela ducked instantaneously.
He wasn’t that stupid.
Anyone who could live here surely wouldn’t be of lower status than his princely self.
They say first impressions matter, and his first impression was just terrible.
Graciela reluctantly stared at that face, even in anger, it was very sexy and handsome.
Before the other party could completely lose his temper, Graciela prudently dashed out.
The guard came forward, “Sir, he is Aspen, the youngest prince of Ambrosia.
He lives on the third floor.”
