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.
