His companion walked up behind him, “How was it? You didn’t talk for long.” “No need,” Hans said, looking at the rose bushes by the column. He picked a budding flower and played with it in his palm. “I believe she will take care of herself until we meet again.”
Chapter 23
The country entered a three-week national mourning period, with all public entertainment activities prohibited, and nobles forbidden from private gatherings and marriages.
Annabel maintained Rose Palace while moving to the Palace of No Worries for her coronation preparations. The symbols of the previous emperor were replaced by those of the new queen. Painters quickly created a portrait of Annabel, which was hung in the gallery adjacent to Alexander I. The painting depicted the young queen as beautiful and spirited.
Kerns sarcastically remarked to Wilhelmina, “Next, she’ll probably erect a ten-story-high statue of herself in North Star Square.”
After the funeral, Wilhelmina and Kerns returned to school. Life remained similar for them with regular classes and exams. Annabel had received a special graduation certificate and completely left campus, visible only in the news.
The holographic image from the communicator displayed Hans Borg’s particularly handsome face. “Are you adjusting?” he asked.
“My long-range shooting isn’t very good,” said Wilhelmina, a bit troubled. “But Kerns thinks it’s because I lack strength. I applied for a strategy course, and if approved, I’ll be busy from next week.”
“Don’t tire yourself out too much, Your Highness,” Hans replied.
“What’s wrong, Owen?” Wilhelmina asked cheerfully. “Do you have something to tell me?”
Wilhelmina turned off the communicator and rushed out of the dormitory at Angela’s urging. Hans Borg sat facing the black screen, and a servant entered to inform him, “Sir, the Ministry of Internal Affairs requests your presence.”
“Understood, thank you,” Hans Borg replied, standing up and straightening his tie. He looked in the mirror at his elegant suit and wondered how much longer he would wear it.
Upon returning to Little Buckingham Palace, Wilhelmina was surprised not to see Hans Borg. Instead, a familiar-looking middle-aged man awaited her.
“Where’s Owen?” she asked, handing her bag to the butler.
The man, tall and thin with sparse hair, replied methodically, “Your Highness, Hans Borg has been reassigned.”
Wilhelmina felt a ringing in her ears. “What did you say?”
