When they were back in their apartment, Ferlin shook his head with profound resignation. "Why don't you think about it for a few days before you promise His Highness?"
He had seen his wife skip happily all the way back home. In his memory, he had only seen her being that happy in their wedding.
"No." Irene stuck out her tongue at him. "One day's delay will make me sleepless."
[Yes, she loves drama so much. Back in the Longsong Theater, she used to practice all alone until midnight and frequently run over her lines with me. If it had not been for the duke, she would have moved from Flower of the Theater up to Star of the Theater.] At this thought, he hugged his wife from the back and said, "I'm sorry."
"..." Irene patted his head. "It's not your fault. You were transferred to another city and couldn't stop him at that time," she said with a slight smile, "if you want to apologize, go to cook. I want to read the scripts first."
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