The Unveiling of Secret Queen Chapter 1603: Ellen Quarles, Why Do You Look So Pale

"What did you say?!" Ellen Quarles sprang up almost flipping over the water cup in front of her.

Her eyelids twitched as she moved to the side, lowering her voice, "Don’t rush, tell properly what’s going on!"

"The Royal Family suddenly announced at this week’s event to streamline mbers. Initially, we didn’t take it to heart, as we’re third in line, even if the Royal Family intends to streamline mbers, Madam, it wouldn’t reach you. So we relaxed our vigilance, without informing you. Who knew..."

Ellen Quarles’s hand shook as she held the phone, forcing herself to remain calm: "Go on."

"Who knew your na wouldn’t be on the announced list, not even... not even the Crown Prince’s na was there."

At this point, Ellen Quarles’ face turned pale as paper, she staggered, legs too weak to stand firm, stumbling backward, luckily her hand propped against the sofa in ti, otherwise, she might have fallen on her butt, causing a huge joke.

But even though she steadied herself, speaking seed extrely difficult: "You an, my husband’s na is also not on the list of Royal Family mbers?"

"Yes, Madam."

Seeing her face extrely grim, Charles Quarles couldn’t help but ask with concern: "What’s wrong?"

"I..." Ellen Quarles looked at him, her pupils shaking violently, wanting to tell him countless words, but her throat seed stuck, unable to utter a word, the walls of her throat even burning urgently.

Charles Quarles saw her in such a lost manner, also not caring to bla her for being autocratic, not greeting him before dealing with Audrick Zachmann, implicating Evelyn Quarles.

He approached her, patting her shoulder with concern: "Ellen, what’s exactly going on? Why does your face look so bad? Are you okay?"

At this mont, Ellen Quarles’s eyes were hot, barely holding on.

But her fingers clutched the phone tightly, first avoiding Charles Quarles: "Brother, I’ll tell you later."

Then she pressed her lips, her face solemnly talking to the person on the other end of the phone: "We are the third in line successors of the Royal Family, for such a big matter, why didn’t they confer with us in advance? Go find out what’s really going on!"

She remained composed, instructing before hanging up: "Wait. Don’t get information from the Royal Family side, don’t we know dia contacts, they have wide channels and unconventional ways. The Royal Family surely keeps their mouth shut now; you won’t get anything from them, try finding out through the dia, maybe they know the inside story."

"Alright." Her trusted follower solemnly said: "Madam, rest assured, I’ll take care of it imdiately."

"En."

Ellen Quarles hung up the phone, imdiately calling her husband.

Her first call didn’t get through.

The second call wasn’t answered.

Ellen Quarles couldn’t care less, calling, and calling, determined to call until he answered.

Finally, the call wasn’t answered.

But instead, the phone was shut off directly.

Ellen Quarles’s elegant face turned instantly pale, holding the phone, dazed for a long ti.

While she hesitated, the phone chid.

She imdiately picked it up to look.

[I’m in the Royal Family, I asked, my grandmother they said you’ve offended soone. Ellen Quarles, who exactly have you offended?]

This was a ssage sent by her husband, the third in line Crown Prince of the country.

The text ssage seed calm and composed.

But Ellen Quarles could sense the almost uncontrolled reproach in the other’s steadiness.