“We’ll be fine, my dear,” Hans Bo said, kissing Wilhelmina’s forehead. “No matter what happens, I will protect you.”
Chapter 21
Emperor Alexander I was known as a just, strict, and wise monarch. During his thirty-nine-year reign, he achieved much, dedicating his life to promoting constitutional reforms and democratic processes, earning the love of the people.
Now, this great emperor’s days were numbered. He lay in bed, wearing a life support device, struggling to breathe. Many of his organs had failed. His family’s hereditary disease had weakened in his generation, allowing him to live into his seventies, unlike his ancestors who had never lived past sixty.
Wilhelmina felt that he was truly old. The majestic emperor she once knew now resembled a tired, haggard elder. His entire being had collapsed, with drooping eyebrows and a scattered gaze, struggling to muster any energy.
This was a dying man.
His grandchildren ran to the old man’s bedside, looking happy and obedient. Joy flashed in the emperor’s eyes as he swept his gaze across his children and grandchildren, pausing on the youngest, Wilhelmina, then turning to the heir Annabel.
“Remember the ancestral teachings… be upright.”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Annabel said softly.
Amelia began to sob. Everyone’s faces were gray, silent, and grieving.
“No crying!” the old man said sternly, these his final words.
On January 13, 7378 of the Galactic Empire, Emperor Alexander I laid down his royal duties and passed away.
“13:24,” the imperial physician announced the time of death, his voice heavy.
The emperor’s children and grandchildren honored his last wish, looking grief-stricken but not shedding a tear.
Afternoon sunlight shone on the unmelted snow in the courtyard. This moment was almost inappropriate for death.
People slowly rose from the emperor’s bedside. The elders and Marshal Selberg knelt before Annabel.
“Long live the Queen.”
Annabel took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and extended her hand. Everyone bowed. In the vast imperial bedroom, the former emperor lay on the bed, while the new monarch stood proudly, her beautiful head held high.
The young girl’s gaze fell on her just-deceased grandfather, her sadness replaced by soaring spirit. Finally, her era had arrived. How could she not be happy?
Queen Annabel’s first decree was to prepare for the national mourning. She notified all officials and nobles to prepare and asked her family to rest.
