Chapter 821: Chapter 820
Editor: Henyee Translations

Monbatten froze at Amy’s words.

“Her old mom?”

What did she mean? Was there a “before” and “after” version of Amy’s mother?

No matter how much a person changes, their eyes don’t. He was certain of that.

But not wanting to kill the mood, he smiled and nodded. “Alright, sure.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Then come to my house sometime! My mom’s picture is there. I didn’t bring it with me.”

“Okay,” he replied with a chuckle, ruffling her hair.

Amy looked up at him, all serious. “So, when are you coming?”

Monbatten hesitated, clearing his throat. “Well…”

“I heard those uncles and aunties talking earlier,” Amy said with the precociousness only kids can have. “They said Daddy is super busy. Do you even have time to come to my house?”

“I’ll make time,” Monbatten said immediately.

“When?” Amy pressed, unwavering.

He glanced over at his aide, who promptly stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, you’re free the evening after tomorrow, at eight.”

Monbatten smiled and looked back at Amy. “You heard that, didn’t you? The evening after tomorrow, eight o’clock, I’ll come to your house.”

“Yay!” Amy cheered, stretching out her tiny pinky. “Pinky promise! No take-backs!”

Monbatten blinked but couldn’t help laughing. There was something about this kid that put him completely at ease, even when she crossed boundaries that should have annoyed him.

As he bent down to lock pinkies with her, he found himself wondering, Was that woman from Crera as remarkable as this child? Did she give someone else a kid as delightful as Amy?

After sealing the promise, Amy dashed off, wrapping herself around Uncle Olsen’s leg like a koala. “Grandpa, Grandpa! Daddy said he’s coming to our house the day after tomorrow!”

Uncle Olsen raised a brow, unimpressed by the theatrics.

Most businessmen would’ve been overwhelmed in a moment like this, nervous about hosting royalty. But Uncle Olsen wasn’t most businessmen.

He calmly looked down at Amy. “Did you prepare an invitation for King Monbatten?”

Amy shook her head, wide-eyed.

Uncle Olsen sighed, carrying her over to Monbatten.

Though Monbatten was used to a life of luxury, something about Uncle Olsen’s presence compelled him to stand as the older man approached. Despite the age gap, Uncle Olsen carried the gravitas of a father figure, commanding respect effortlessly.

“King Monbatten, a pleasure to meet you,” Uncle Olsen said as they shook hands.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Olsen,” Monbatten replied, gesturing for him to sit.

As Uncle Olsen eased into his seat, he spoke in a measured tone. “I’ve heard that Country A has been having issues with pirates lately.”

The comment drew a sigh from Monbatten.

The Trident Strait, which separated Country A from Crera, was notorious for its pirate activity. Ships often avoided it altogether, taking longer, costlier routes.

Years ago, Keira and Lewis had ventured into Country A to rescue a prominent scientist. As part of their strategy, they had lured enemy forces to the main port, leaving the pirate-controlled strait as the only viable escape route.

In the end, the scientist returned safely through those treacherous waters—thanks to Lewis’s assurance that the area was under the control of a “friend.”

Now, Uncle Olsen leaned back, smiling faintly. “If King Monbatten is willing to grant my daughter a few favors, that strait could be freely accessible to your nation’s ships.”

Monbatten’s eyes widened. “You control the Trident Strait?”

For years, Country A had tried to negotiate with the mysterious faction controlling the area, hoping for reduced fees or some form of partnership. Yet, every overture had been ignored.

Monbatten never imagined the person holding the reins would casually bring it up in conversation.

“I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Monbatten said eagerly. “Consider it done. Your daughter and her associates are welcome to do business in Country A anytime.”

Uncle Olsen nodded, then added, “What about the individual they’re worried about?”

Monbatten chuckled lightly. “That individual has never explicitly forbidden Jenkins from returning.”

Uncle Olsen raised a brow but didn’t press further, leaving the information to be relayed.

When Jenkins heard the news, her jaw dropped. “Wait, what? That Clownfish told me to leave! She said if I didn’t, she’d blow up my company. And now you’re telling me I was never actually banned?”

Erin cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, you know how he operates—impulsive and unpredictable. Maybe when she told you to leave, it was just that—leave for a bit. She never said you couldn’t come back.”

Jenkins looked dumbfounded. “What kind of logic is that?”

“Did she ever explicitly say you couldn’t return?” Erin asked.

“…No, she didn’t,” Jenkins admitted.

Her voice cracked as she exclaimed, “So what have I been doing these past few years, wandering around Crera like a vagabond? What was the point of all that?”