The Queen’s Path

“It’s fine. By the time your marriage fails, you’ll no longer be in office, and no one will care about your divorce.”

“I understand, Anderson,” Hanborg said, smiling bitterly. “But thanks. These rumors are temporary. Tomorrow is Annabel’s trial – that’s the real show. Now I’m going to a meeting with the lawyers.”

“Go to room six,” Falk reminded.

“It was drizzling on the day of Annabel’s trial. The steps in front of the central court were wet. Reporters and victim families filled the small square in front of the court, and traffic was controlled on several nearby streets.

Anna Bell had previously faced multiple hearings and admitted to various charges. Apart from accusing the Selberg family and William Minna of usurping her dynasty, she made no defense. Prince Heinrich had hired a lawyer for her, but the lawyer was helpless against the evidence.

William Minna watched the trial broadcast in the Louvre Palace study with Albert and several staff members. This was her first encounter with Hanborg since the rumors broke out.

William Minna appeared completely composed. She extended her hand to Hanborg and smiled, “You look good, Owen. The reporter was quite kind to you.”

Hanborg also smiled and kissed her hand. “I hope they didn’t harass you too much.”

“Oh, not at all. I’ve been staying in the palace,” William Minna replied. “Let’s get to the point. I heard you plan to deliver the verdict today. Isn’t this a bit rushed?”

“We all feel there’s no benefit in dragging this out, Your Majesty,” Hanborg explained. “Besides, I believe the jury’s result won’t be far from our expectations.”

“I hope so,” William Minna said, turning her gaze to the screen.”

Behind her, Hanborg nodded to Prince Albert.

At three forty-two in the afternoon, the trial verdict arrived. As William Minna had insisted, Anna Bell was spared the death penalty but sentenced to life imprisonment for treason and murder.

Escorted by court guards, Anna Bell appeared in public as she had long anticipated, wearing an exquisite white suit adorned with jewelry. Although she had lost weight and her face was pale, her eyes remained bright.

Reporters swarmed her with questions, but she maintained a smile and silence, allowing herself to be led away.

A woman’s voice screamed on the television: “Anna Bell, you orchestrated the bomb attack that killed my daughter and grandson. Now that you’ve escaped the death penalty, what do you have to say?”

Anna Bell raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Just sorry?” The grieving woman’s voice intensified.

“Sometimes achieving something requires sacrificing little people…”

Before Anna Bell could finish, the guard pulled her away. She smiled at the woman and turned her head.

In the crowded camera view, William Minna and others were still processing the situation when they heard a woman’s scream.

The crowd froze and scattered, but bold reporters remained, frantically pressing their cameras.

Anna Bell looked shocked, blood gushing from her left chest and soaking her white clothes. She collapsed softly, her hat falling off, captured by the cameras as a reporter stepped on her.

“Guards! Ambulance!” shouted the guards, crouching down to cover Anna Bell’s wound, but blood continued to flow down the steps.

The woman who attacked her dropped the knife and stood numbly until the guards arrested her.

Medical personnel arrived, and the doctor shone a flashlight into Anna Bell’s eyes before checking his watch.

Reporters frantically photographed the scene, with one host exclaiming: “We just witnessed an assassination of the former Queen, Countess Adelgard… Oh, right, Anna Bell Osenberg, who was just sentenced to life imprisonment for treason and murder.”

Amidst the noise, the camera focused on Anna Bell’s body. Her white clothes were stained with blood. She lay there softly, eyes still open, bathed in camera flashes.

William Minna raised her hand and turned off the television.

A deadly silence filled the study. The Queen’s face gradually turned blue, an expression rarely seen, causing unease among her attendants. Only Prime Minister Hanborg and Prince Albert remained calm.

William Minna put down the remote, bit her lip, and said, “Mr. Hanborg and Prince, please stay. Everyone else can leave.”

Everyone quickly left the study and closed the door tightly.

William Minna turned around, her sharp gaze sweeping over the two men.

“Should I applaud your collaboration, gentlemen?”

“Of course you should be sorry. What disappoints me most is you,” William Minna strode up to Albert and stared at him. “What made you think you could do whatever you want, override me, and plan such a major event? For God’s sake, Albert, you are so bold.”

Albert endured his wife’s anger and spoke in a calm voice: “I know hiding this from you was wrong, but it was also for your own good. Annabelle will be a great threat to you as long as she is alive.”

“So you let her lie dead on the courthouse steps, letting all media and people see this scene? How will scholars evaluate this incident? How will my descendants view me?”

I said I didn’t want to be the first to commit fratricide in the Osenberg family’s history—well, now I’m not just the first, but the most first, because it’s obviously your Selberg family that rules now.”

Albert’s face turned blue. “I did this to clear obstacles for my descendants.”

“You could have just locked Annabelle up for a few years and waited. Maybe she wouldn’t have lived long and would have died of illness.”

“Time waits for no one, Willy.”

“I don’t need you to lecture me,” William Minna shouted. “Less than half a year after the constitution was established, my rights have been completely nullified, and my instructions have become empty words. Should I abdicate and let you completely take over?”

“You are simply unreasonable,” Albert replied, angry. “You know very well that with Annabelle’s death, many hidden dangers will be resolved. Why are you still so stubborn? I kept this from you because you cannot be persuaded.”

“I cannot be persuaded because I oppose it.”

“Your opposition is wrong. As your husband, I cannot watch you continue this error, so I would rather bear your anger and make the correct decision for you.”

“You cannot replace me,” William Minna said steadily. “You are just a queen’s husband.”

Albert turned pale, closing his mouth as he stared at his wife’s flushed face.

“Thank you for reminding me of my position, madam,” he said, turning toward the door.

William Minna was stunned, unable to say anything.

“I’m wondering,” Albert said, facing away from her, “why you dismissed Hans Borg so casually but are furious with me.”

He opened the door and walked out, slamming it.

William Minna sat dejectedly on the sofa, covering her face with her hand.

Albert returned to his room, changed into boots, and went to the stable to saddle his favorite horse, putting on his hat before mounting.

“Do you need the guards to accompany you, sir?” the attendant asked cautiously.

“No,” Albert replied faintly, “I’m just going to ride around the valley.”

He spurred the horse, which galloped away.

Gloomy rain clouds pressed low in the sky, with fine rain falling like cow hair. The air was cold, and the grass was wet. It was only four in the afternoon, but the sky was dark. The grasslands were empty, with only occasional birds startled from the trees.

Albert lowered his hat and rode wildly.

The cold spring wind carried fine rain, hitting his face like ice needles. Rainwater trickled down his cheeks into his collar, but he didn’t mind.

The gray wilderness felt empty. Albert rode aimlessly, his horse sensing his restless mood, feeling uneasy and agitated.

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