Let's address each other according to our own terms.

Hampton by Hilton Naples Central.

Because there were no returning flights available, the entire Sampdoria squad had to stay overnight.

That is simply how things go for smaller clubs without a private plane.

Early the next morning, Lu Deyang came downstairs for breakfast without seeing a single teammate. Everyone had drunk too much during the celebrations last night, and even the usually shy Lombardo had broken into song.

Thanks to having other matters to attend to, King Lu had not overindulged.

Who would have expected to bump into someone here at the hotel?

Just as he was about to sit down for breakfast, Lu Deyang caught sight of a little fellow strolling near the hotel entrance.

"Your Highness Henry."

Lu Deyang walked over and said.

"Harry, call me Harry."

The young Henry Mountbatten-Windsor looked up and replied.

"Alright, Harry, why are you up so early?"

Lu Deyang asked, walking alongside him in the hotel courtyard.

"My brother's snoring is just too loud," Harry grumbled.

"That certainly is a problem," Lu Deyang said with a smile.

"Deyang, we're friends, right?"

Harry suddenly stopped, looked up, and asked.

"Of course. You can tell me if you're ever in trouble," Lu Deyang answered instantly.

"Last night, I managed to send Mr. Link away."

Harry said.

He was referring to his bodyguard. Ever since Charles's infidelity began seven years ago, his mother had been assigned bodyguards.

"Well, perhaps we should change how we talk about this."

Lu Deyang pulled Harry down to sit with him and said, "You did the right thing. You were protecting her."

"Yes, because Mom isn't happy." Harry asked with a conflicted expression, "Will you and Mom have a baby brother?"

Lu Deyang: ...

She actually had mentioned something like that yesterday, but King Lu hadn't dared to act on it.

The mixed-race features would simply be too obvious.

Otherwise, it certainly would have been quite tempting—just in case she really ascended the throne one day.

"No, don't think about such things," Lu Deyang ruffled his hair and said, "Don't tell anyone else about this. Anyone at all, okay?"

"Of course!" Harry extended his pinky finger and said, "This is an agreement between friends."

Lu Deyang extended his pinky and linked it with his.

With a troubled look on his face once more, Harry asked, "But you and I are friends, and my mother likes you very much. Perhaps..."

"Don't think too much about it. I have a friend who is about your age. The relationship between us is our own, and my friendship with your mother is separate. That doesn't affect us being friends, does it?"

Lu Deyang rubbed his head and said.

If you really want to trace it, your mother even called me daddy—does that make you call me grandpa?

"Okay!"

Harry nodded vigorously.

Then he began chatting with Lu Deyang about other matters.

For instance, the past death of Mr. Barry.

He had also been one of his mother's bodyguards, and he died three weeks after being transferred.

Harry had been very young at the time, but he had once overheard something about it by chance.

With his parents' relationship on the rocks, his father's affair with Camilla was no secret at Buckingham Palace, which left Harry harboring intense resentment toward him.

Finally finding a friend who could understand him, he was bursting to spill every word on his mind.

"Is that gentleman who keeps staring at us a bodyguard too?"

Lu Deyang tilted his head upward and asked.

"Mm, he's a nuisance," Harry said.

"Henry," Lu Deyang said, putting an arm around his shoulder, "Your status is very special. Regardless of whether you like or dislike someone, never show it easily. The more you dislike a person, the wider you must smile at them. That is how you protect yourself."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"No particular reason. You'll understand when you're older," Lu Deyang looked at him and said.

Harry nodded instinctively and forced out a smile.

"Good. Practice that often when you have time. When facing trouble, it is better to speak a little slower and think through the consequences. No matter what happens, always smile first."

Lu Deyang continued.

Harry stood there, maintaining a forced smile.

The two of them walked and talked, one speaking while the other listened.

"Deyang, why are you out here?" A little past eight o'clock, Vialli came out dragging Mancini in search of him.

"Let me introduce you. This is British Prince Henry Charles Albert David Mountbatten-Windsor," Lu Deyang said.

The two men instinctively froze in their tracks.

The British royal family still held considerable influence in Europe.

Harry immediately put on a bright smile and said, "You are Deyang's friends. Just call me Harry."

"Your Royal Highness."

Mancini clumsily performed a hat-tipping gesture, even though he wasn't wearing a hat.

As the son of a carpenter, he had never in his life imagined meeting such a prominent figure.

Vialli, on the other hand, kept glancing back and forth between Lu Deyang and Harry with an inquisitive gaze.

If things were truly as he suspected, Deyang had pulled off something monumental!

Unfortunately, there was no way to verify it, and Lu Deyang would never tell him the truth.

"Let's go inside for breakfast. That bodyguard of his looks ready to come over and listen to our conversation in person," Lu Deyang said, pulling Harry along.

"A watchdog!" Harry blurted out.

"Henry, maintain your manners," Lu Deyang reminded him.

"Being polite is certainly fine, acting as gentlemanly as James Bond," Mancini said with a smile.

Vialli rolled his eyes so hard they almost reached the back of his head.

This idiot was still thinking about James Bond at a time like this.

Shouldn't the main focus be on the relationship between Deyang and the prince? Why on earth were the two of them getting along so harmoniously?

The four of them returned to the dining hall together.

Because they were hosting distinguished guests, the locals in Naples had gone out of their way, and Sampdoria managed to share a bit of that reflected glory.

Even though it was just breakfast, it was far more exquisite than the food at ordinary hotels—looking less like Italian cuisine and more like French cooking.

Before her driver exposed the audio recordings, Harry's mother was widely revered throughout Europe.

It was a pity she was too trusting, making a phone call to pour her heart out over the New Year holiday, only to have the recording sold to tabloid newspapers.

After breakfast, the hotel entrance grew lively.

The journalists gathered outside were running out of patience.

"Let's go, to the airport," Boskov woke everyone up and ordered an early departure.

Those reporters were far more interested in the British royal family.

With his backpack slung over his shoulder, Lu Deyang waved goodbye to Harry and boarded the team bus with his teammates.

Not long after, his mother appeared in the hotel lobby.

"Could you share your thoughts on yesterday's match?"

"How is Italy? What do you think of Naples?"

"Do you think Sampdoria is very strong, especially compared to English lower-division teams?"

"Which player left the deepest impression on you?"

"..."

The hotel lobby instantly turned into a bustling marketplace.

Seeing her, the reporters couldn't help but feel that her spirits were considerably higher than they had been yesterday.

Could the Italian climate really be this nourishing?

"I am delighted to have witnessed a great match. The World Cup a few years ago plunged the entire nation into a trough. But King Arthur once said: where there is doubt, there is truth, for truth is the shadow of doubt. We witnessed the crushing defeat of that thief, and we witnessed the birth of a knight. Purely in terms of athletic skill, that Argentine is peerless, but our knight has transcended the ordinary. Yes, after yesterday, Deyang is our friend."