Before anyone could react, she turned and ran out. Like a mad leopard, she rushed to the vehicle, pushed the driver aside, and sped towards the Palace of No Worries.
The panicked crowd turned to the newly appointed secretary.
“It’s fine, follow quickly,” Sir Wolf said methodically. “The Queen’s guards will stop her, and we just need to block anyone who comes to inquire about the news.”
When the head maid reported that Duchess Rockston requested an audience, Annabel put down her quill and smiled triumphantly.
“The little bird has come to throw herself into the net,” she said to Albert, “I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay calm.”
“You’ve removed the most important person from her side; of course, she’ll be angry,” Albert’s face showed no emotion.
“Don’t be uncomfortable,” Annabel said gleefully, standing up. “Let her come in. I can’t wait to see the obedient doll tear off her facade.”
The girl, still wearing her military school uniform, rushed in with red eyes. Her hair had come undone during her argument with the guards, hanging around her shoulders, and her nose was red, making her delicate face look pitiful. But the raging fire and deep hatred in her eyes were undeniable.
“You’ve taken Owen away from me!” Wilhelmina stood straight, pointing at the queen. This was her first time confronting Annabel without considering the consequences.
Annabel seemed particularly happy. “Yes. So what? You’re monopolizing him, rendering him useless. A soldier serving as your nanny? Willy, how childish can you be?”
Wilhelmina’s face turned pale, her eyes burning like two blue flames. “That’s between him and me; it has nothing to do with you! If you’re jealous, tame your own loyal dog, and don’t touch mine!”
Annabel, caught off guard by the fierce counterattack, let out a cold snort. “Enough, Willy. I am the Queen, and the entire empire is mine. You can only obey, not question!”
“You can control the stupid and greedy, but you can’t control the hearts of the wise!”
Wilhelmina shouted, “Owen is the most important thing I have. Yet, for your inexplicable jealousy and irresponsibility, you’ve taken him away from me. If this is how you consolidate your power, you’re in big trouble, Annabel!”
Annabel’s expression grew ugly. “How I rule my empire is none of your concern. Just finish high school and go back to Roxton.”
“I will!” Wilhelmina said firmly. “Staying here makes me sick. May you live forever here, Your Majesty!”
Wilhelmina turned to leave.
Annabel’s face flushed with anger. “Stop right there, Wilhelmina! How dare you disrespect me!”
Wilhelmina ignored her. As Annabel moved to confront her, Albert held her back.
“Please calm down, Your Majesty,” he said coldly. “We cannot let outsiders see you like this.”
Annabel angrily grabbed his collar. “Did you see that? She spoke to me in that tone. This is the obedient Roxton Duchess you all praise. She’s like a wild cat with poisonous claws.”
“Your Majesty…” Albert said, barely containing himself. “Please be careful with your words…”
“I don’t need your lectures,” Annabel pushed him away. “I am the Queen of the Empire. Those who disrespect me will pay the price!”
“She’s just a twelve-year-old child,” Albert said. “You transferred away her trusted secretary; of course, she would be angry.”
“I did what I had to!” Annabel said rigidly. “If Hans Borg can’t be of use to me, then no one can have him.”
The Queen angrily left the study.
Albert did not follow her. He stood gazing thoughtfully at the evening glow outside the window.
Wilhelmina was escorted back to the Little Buckingham Palace by her guards. She hung her head, climbing the stairs like a defeated little lion.
Unexpectedly, she was embraced in a warm hug.
Wilhelmina trembled and looked up, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Owen…”
“Shh…” Hans Borg held her tightly. “Don’t cry, I’m still here.”
“You haven’t left yet?”
“I’m reporting to the military department tomorrow. Wolf Sir gave me permission to stay for one more night.”
Wilhelmina wiped her tears on Hans Borg’s chest, noticing he had changed into his military uniform. The crisp uniform made him look even more heroic.
“You look better in military uniform,” Wilhelmina smiled through her tears. “You shouldn’t be wasted here as my nanny. You’re so talented; you should go to a better place. But suppressing bandits… my Owen…”
“Let’s not talk about this today, okay?” Hans Borg wiped her tears with his sleeve. “Are you hungry? We have cream pumpkin soup today.”
Wilhelmina sniffled, forcing herself to laugh. This was their last dinner; she couldn’t spend it in tears.
The last time he pulled out her chair, draped a napkin for her, walked with her in the garden, or played chess…
Wilhelmina sat on the bed in her pajamas, without a hint of sleepiness.
“You should have seen Annabel’s face. She was so angry, like a madwoman. Selleberg was standing next to her, extremely embarrassed, but unable to leave.”
“Angering the Queen is not a wise move,” Hans Borg said.
“Oh, Owen. This was bound to happen,” Wilhelmina laughed, “We’ve always despised each other from the first day we met. I’m glad I no longer have to pretend with her. Once I graduate high school, I’ll return to Roxton, bring my grandparents over, and then find a way to transfer you there too—if you’re willing.”
“I am willing,” Hans Borg said, holding her hand. “I’ve already sworn to you, Your Highness. I will follow you for life.”
Wilhelmina fell silent, quietly watching her former secretary.
“I don’t like Wolf Sir.”
“He’s a good man,” Hans Borg replied. “Though he’s rigid, he’s very upright and loyal. Your father trusted him, and you should trust him too.”
“Okay,” Wilhelmina sighed. “If it’s your request. But you must write to me and promise not to be hit by bandits’ artillery!”
“I promise.”
“Cross your heart!”
“Cross my heart,” Hans Borg drew a cross over his chest.
Wilhelmina smiled, opened her arms, and hugged Hans Borg’s neck.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go either. But right now, we have no choice. My leaving is good for you. Don’t provoke the Queen anymore, and wait for my return.”
“I will.”
“Be strong.”
“Yes.”
“Be careful during combat training.”
“I know.”
“Stay away from the boys…”
“Hey, that’s enough.” The girl’s cheek pressed against his neck. “I love you, Owen.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Hans pressed his lips to her ear and remained still for a long time. Wilhelmina then lay down in bed.
“Read me a book,” she said, handing over a half-worn book. “This is my mother’s collection. She used to read it to me, but I can hardly remember it now.”
Hans took the poetry collection. “Which poem do you want to hear?”
“Whatever.”
He opened it casually. The page was frequently read, with words annotated in Rebecca Queen’s handwriting. It was a poem called “Nightingale” by Ivana Holga.
“Did you hear, my dear? The nightingale outside the window has found its thorns, a lifetime of searching exchanged for its melodious tears of joy. Please listen carefully, my love; it is about to sing. The thorns are sharp and cold; pain and blood are the gifts of life. The journey ends at dawn. That is the voice of reverence for the soul, an uncompromising pursuit, transformation, dedication, destiny, and that is also me—an eternal love.”
At dawn, Wilhelmina woke from a sweet dream. The curtains were not drawn, and she could see the white fog on the courtyard lawn and birds foraging in the morning light. She was alone in the room. The poetry collection lay quietly on the chair where the man had sat last night.
