Wilhelmina stared at her cousin in shock and immediately refused, “No.”
“Why not?” Annabel huffed, “He will waste his talents with you. What can you do with him? Make him pour milk or tell you bedtime stories?”
“He is my secretary!” Wilhelmina said stubbornly. “Grandfather gave him to me; he is my person.”
“Your person? Ha! Do you even know what ‘your person’ means?” Annabel laughed, throwing her head back.
Wilhelmina felt provoked but remembered her grandfather’s advice: “Don’t let them know what you’re thinking.” She closed her mouth and stopped looking at Annabel.
Annabel snorted contemptuously, “Fine, little beauty. I’ll get him my own way.”
When Hans Borg and the others got out of the car, they saw Wilhelmina next to Annabel with a pale face. “Are you feeling unwell, Miss?” Hans asked caringly.
“Don’t worry, sir,” Annabel smiled, “My little cousin is just not used to the electric land vehicle.”
Chapter 6
Rose Palace was a complex where each adult royal member had an independent palace. Wilhelmina, whose parents had passed away, moved into this small Buckingham Palace early on. It was modeled after the ancient Buckingham Palace but was much smaller.
The small palaces in Rose Palace were named after famous palaces, such as the Emperor’s palace called Worry-Free Palace and the Crown Prince’s residence called Little Versailles. Influenced by her grandfather’s Sparrow Mountain Villa, Wilhelmina had always admired English architectural style, so she loved this beautiful house at first sight. Following the Emperor’s instructions, Prince Adams’ bedroom was preserved, and Wilhelmina lived in the large suite on the second floor of the west wing.
The suite had a reception room, a sunroom connected to a large terrace, a master bedroom, three additional bedrooms, a gym, a large study, a walk-in closet, and four bathrooms, with the master bathroom featuring a high-grade system. The basement and backyard each had pools, including a temperature-controlled indoor pool.
Wilhelmina was unaware of these luxuries, taking a bath with her maid’s assistance before falling asleep on the large bed.
Hans Borg had no time to rest. During afternoon tea, he received his transfer order to the Court Internal Affairs Secretary’s Office, becoming Wilhelmina Princess’s secretary. While his young master slept, he went to the Secretariat to meet his new superior and colleagues and quickly familiarize himself with his job.
His promotion caused envy among colleagues, as such good fortune was rare. Hans accepted their congratulations with humility. At just twenty-two, he demonstrated maturity beyond his years, acknowledging that while he had hoped for this day, he wouldn’t be easily overwhelmed by his new role.
The Hans Borge family was a middle-ranking military household, not of nobility. Although his grandfather had military merits, his father never held an official position in the capital. Yet, young Owen exceeded expectations by achieving this role.
In the General Affairs Office, he was an unremarkable low-ranking official until he received the imperial order to escort Miss Wilhelmina, an orphaned princess without family connections. Given the ongoing mid-year assessment, colleagues showed little interest in escorting a delicate young girl.
If she had been as beautiful as Princess Annabelle, opinions might have changed. So, Hans Borge took on the task amidst jokes about being a “stellar nanny,” boarded the spacecraft, and arrived at the remote planet.
The journey proved pleasant. Wilhelmina was intelligent and well-mannered, with few demands beyond her dislike for olives and her preference for the sixth children’s channel of the Monslanka TV station. Hans Borge initially viewed this as a simple assignment until he met the Emperor and was appointed as the Internal Secretary.
He understood that his glory today was built upon that doll-like little girl. From this day forward, their interests would be intertwined.
Shared glory, shared loss, inseparable.
Wilhelmina woke up to see Hans Borge had changed his uniform. The black-bottomed silver-lined military attire was now a crisp navy blue suit. In a three-piece suit with his hair combed back, Hans Borge looked more approachable and added a refined young master’s elegance.
“You look like a butler,” the child remarked.
“There’s not much difference between a secretary and a butler,” Hans Borge replied, kneeling to put on her new shoes.
“Your grandfather, His Majesty, will be hosting a family dinner at the Carefree Palace. Do you remember the court dining etiquette I taught you?”
“At least I haven’t forgotten everything,” she answered mischievously, stepping on his knee.
Hans Borge smiled, “It’s okay if you make a few mistakes today.”
Wilhelmina kissed the large cat Lucy sleeping on the bed, then was led out by Hans Borge.
In the small dining hall of the Carefree Palace, the royal family sat at the long table. Wilhelmina sat to the right of her grandfather the Emperor, facing the Crown Prince’s family, with Princess Catherine on her right.
Wilhelmina struggled to spear a grape with her knife and fork, but it kept rolling away. Finally losing patience, she made a sudden effort. The grape bounced off the fork, tracing an arc and landing in the consommé in front of the Crown Princess.
The bright red soup splashed on the Crown Princess’s milky white evening dress, looking like a murder scene.
The Crown Princess screamed, causing immediate chaos. The Crown Prince looked at her indifferently, saying softly, “Why aren’t you more careful?”
“It wasn’t me,” she retorted, throwing down her handkerchief and going to change.
Annabelle’s sharp gaze swept over. Wilhelmina looked blank and innocent, making Annabelle hesitate, wondering if she had wrongly accused her.
Princess Catherine wiped her mouth, saying to Wilhelmina, “Darling, you must try this Milan veal. It’s delicious. Next time, you can come to my place; my French chef makes the best cream-baked snails in the entire empire.”
His Majesty took a sip of red wine, sighing contentedly as he looked at his children and grandchildren.
“Isn’t it wonderful that our family can gather for dinner together?”
Everyone smiled and agreed.
After dinner, everyone moved to the sitting room, preparing for a traditional evening with the Emperor.
“Amelia, darling, give us some music,” the Emperor said loudly from beside the fireplace.
The twin sisters curtsied.
Amelia sat at the piano, lifting the lid while Georgiana stood beside it, singing a nightingale aria in her still-childish voice.
This was Wilhelmina’s first time experiencing such a scene and hearing such a beautiful piece. She propped her hands on the sofa armrests, supporting her face, listening intently, and then applauded when the song ended.
Everyone looked over. Wilhelmina sheepishly lowered her hands.
“My dear Willy,” Annabelle said gently, “we don’t applaud here.”
“How boring,” Wilhelmina replied. “They performed so well, they deserve applause.”
Georgiana, blushing, retorted, “We are princesses, not performers!”
Wilhelmina looked surprised and awkward.
“Alright, Willy just doesn’t know this custom. It’s no big deal,” Aunt Catherine intervened. “She just likes your song and means no harm.”
“We don’t need to take the children’s disputes too seriously,” the Crown Princess defended her daughter. “Weilei clearly lacks court etiquette education, which is obvious. I hope her etiquette teacher is responsible, so we can see this child’s progress.”
The Crown Princess’s words struck Wilhelmina. Though young, she could hear the criticism of her manners. She felt both anger and shame, her ears and neck turning red.
She raised her head, wanting to argue.
