Slightly larger than Mother Earth, it was the political center of the Galactic Empire, featuring magnificent mountains, vast oceans, modern cities, and majestic palace complexes. This realm housed the country’s elite, beautiful individuals, and the wealthiest citizens.
The Osenberg Dynasty, established just 140 years ago by King Wolrich after overthrowing the previous regime, was relatively young.
The military vehicle carrying Wilhelmina and Hans Borg drove out of the aviation port, entering a dedicated passage. Wilhelmina leaned against the bulletproof window, her eyes wide with wonder, while Hans Borg supported her with his hand.
They passed towering skyscrapers, multi-level suspended vehicle lanes, bustling sky malls, and gardens where fashionably dressed individuals walked as if on flat ground.
The car drove by a massive sky amusement park. Wilhelmina pointed it out, saying, “I’ve seen it. It’s called Paradise. Grandpa promised that if I got three A’s this semester, he would bring me here to play.”
Hans Borg, with a gentle gaze, replied, “So now you can come and play anytime.”
Wilhelmina stroked the soft fur of her big cat Lucy, responding, “Maybe.” The child’s mature tone deepened Hans Borg’s smile.
The female orderly serving tea blushed, reluctant to leave. “Where are we going?” Wilhelmina asked. “I’m going to take you to see your grandfather first.” “Does Dad live with him?” “…Yes, for now, they are temporarily living together.”
“I miss Cloudfinch Manor,” Wilhelmina hugged Lucy tight. The big cat licked her cheek. “But you belong here,” Hans Borg said gently, “You belong here, my little lady.” Wilhelmina lowered her head, half-understanding, eating her favorite blueberry cream cake.
Outside the window, the bustling commercial district had long passed, revealing a lush forest. A river meandered like a silver ribbon. “This is the Saint Cosrola River, the mother river,” Hans Borg said. At the forest’s edge was a vast highland plain. Located in the northern hemisphere, the grasslands were full of spring, with wildflowers everywhere. Deer herds ran on the mountain slopes, while cattle and sheep grazed leisurely. The Saint Cosrola River rushed eastward, nurturing this land.
The car continued at high speed, showing elevation changes and a spectacular waterfall. At Hans Borg’s signal, the car slowly descended, flying low near the water surface. Clear lake water reflected the suspended vehicle’s shadow, as white water birds chased the car.
Wilhelmina looked up at the waterfall in the distance, her mouth wide open and her little nose turning pink. Hans Borg suddenly felt a sense of satisfaction.
“We’re almost there,” he said as the car gained altitude. The lake water flowed back into a river, with tall birch trees lining the valley and castles appearing on the hills.
This was the famous New Loire Valley, known for its beautiful scenery and historic castles. Many had been converted into museums and luxury hotels, attracting the wealthy.
Crossing a densely vegetated hill, houses became more numerous, showcasing traditional architecture, narrow streets, and towering churches, with a pure white palace behind one of the churches.
“Welcome to Rose Palace,” Hans Borg whispered to the little girl. “See those rose flowers? Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Built over 400 years ago, Rose Palace was originally a hunting lodge. After King Wolrich’s ascension, he renovated it and gifted it to his wife, Queen Wilhelmina, who used it as a base for the National Children’s Education Foundation. It was once a school.
After Emperor Alexander’s ascension, he relocated the foundation and moved into Rose Palace, facing criticism until his death.
For Wilhelmina, this snow-white palace, crystal-clear in the sunlight, was more beautiful than imaginable, resembling something from a fairy tale. Its style was elegant and solemn, massive yet uncluttered, with roses blooming in the garden year-round—an embodiment of an imperial noblewoman, eternally beautiful.
The car stopped in a small square, and Hans Borg held Wilhelmina’s hand as they exited. Soldiers in imperial guard uniforms saluted Hans Borg. A middle-aged man dressed as a butler approached and knelt before Wilhelmina.
“Good day, my lady. I hope your journey was smooth. I am the palace’s vice-steward, Brück. His Majesty is waiting for you,” he said, reaching out to hold Wilhelmina’s hand.
Startled, the girl shook him off and hid behind Hans Borg.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Hans reassured her, gently caressing her hair. “We’ll go see your grandfather together.”
The third emperor of the Galactic Empire, Alexander II, had just passed his seventieth birthday when he lost his youngest son, which drained the color from his once-golden hair. To outsiders, he appeared dignified and spirited.
But when he looked at his youngest son’s child, his tightly drawn expression softened.
“My poor child,” Emperor Alexander sat on the velvet sofa, holding Wilhelmina on his knee. “You’ve grown, my darling. You’re a head taller than last year.”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Wilhelmina answered carefully. “Are you well?”
“Of course, my dear,” Alexander stroked her soft golden hair. “I hope you will like it here.”
This sentence subtly changed the expressions of several of his children nearby.
Wilhelmina looked up innocently. “Yes, I like it here. Hans Borg even showed me the Great Waterfall.”
The Emperor glanced up, and the young military officer in the corner bowed.
“Good child, now, let me take you to see your father,” the Emperor said as he stood up.
He led the way out, with Wilhelmina hurriedly following. A young maid came to hold Wilhelmina’s hand, ensuring she wouldn’t feel too lonely.
Prince Adams, granted the title of Rokston Prince, had a second wife who was the daughter of an imperial financial magnate. The couple was passionate about charitable work and polo, with the prince often participating in matches.
The handsome prince, dressed in riding attire and swinging his polo mallet, smiled in the sunlight until he was struck by a bullet while leaning to kiss his wife.
A homemade, primitive pistol ended their lives.
Wilhelmina could barely remember her father’s heroic figure on horseback. Her impression of him was fading, ultimately frozen in a pale close-up.
“Go see your dad,” the Emperor nudged Wilhelmina. “Be a strong child.”
Taking a deep breath, she approached the coffin.
Her father lay inside like a stranger, eyes closed. His hands hung limply, no longer able to lift her as before. His lips were cold, no longer able to kiss her and call her “my little dove.”
“Daddy…” Wilhelmina touched his face. “Say hello to Mom for me.”
“Good girl,” Emperor Alexander felt his nose grow warm for his youngest son and his daughter who had lost their parents. “Let’s go, we shouldn’t disturb him.”
This was an assassination case that shocked the entire galaxy. The murderer was the wife’s ex-boyfriend from university, motivated by revenge. However, things were more complex than they appeared.
The tragic death of the princely couple destabilized the royal family’s relationships and the political landscape. Yet, the truth remained undisclosed until Emperor Alexander’s death.
Later, when Wilhelmina I took the throne, she personally unsealed the secret scroll left by her grandfather, many years later.
Chapter 4
Hans Borg stood at the edge of the corridor outside the mourning hall, with a court attendant beside him. Everyone was silent and solemn.
He was just a minor official, not qualified to accompany anyone inside the mourning hall. If Wilhelmina hadn’t depended on him, he wouldn’t have been able to accompany her to meet the Emperor.
The spring sunlight shone brilliantly on the corridor’s smooth marble floor. Outside, birds sang and flowers bloomed, with rose branches leaning against the pillars, gently trembling in the wind.