A thick tree trunk lay fallen across the road, seemingly struck down by lightning days ago, its leaves still green. As he approached, the horse suddenly stopped, raising its hooves high.
“Come on, buddy, be braver,” Albert tightened the reins and patted its neck, spurring the horse again. The horse leaped over the trunk but stumbled as its front hooves landed in a puddle.
Albert was thrown off and fell heavily to the ground.
A distant thunder rumbled, and raindrops fell on the window. William Minna looked up from her documents, confused, and gazed outside.
“The spring rain this year is heavy,” Cynthia said, brightening the lights in the room.
“Yes,” William murmured, “Where is the Prince?”
“Sir Edward said he went riding, but in this weather…” Cynthia glanced at the rain, “Should we send people to look for him?”
William sighed, “Let him send a few people to find him. It’s almost dinnertime.”
Cynthia smiled and left. William tried to refocus on her report, but the continuous thunder made her anxious. She stood up and paced the room.
The door opened, and Cynthia walked in with a panicked expression.
“Your Majesty, something has happened.”
“What is it?”
“The Prince has returned.”
William Minna was stunned for a moment before coming to her senses.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. Sir Wolf is sending guards to search for him…”
“What else?”
“He is slightly injured.”
Blood drained from William Minna’s face as she rushed towards the door.
“Your Majesty!” Cynthia followed closely, “Sir Edward is already leading a search for the Prince! It’s raining hard, please don’t go!”
“Did you contact him?”
“He didn’t have a phone,” Cynthia added, “and the communication device isn’t responding. They’ve brought His Highness’s horse to guide them. With so many people, we’ll definitely find the Prince!”
Wilhelmina reached the back door, where Sir Wolf and the captain of the guard were arranging the search.
Wilhelmina calmed down and asked, “What’s the situation now?”
“The first search team has set out, Your Majesty,” Sir Wolf said. “His Highness went towards the river valley. We believe we’ll find him before dark.”
“What is the chamberlain doing? Why did he let him ride out alone in such terrible weather?”
“The chamberlain said nervously, ‘I’m very sorry, Your Majesty. But His Highness didn’t allow us to follow.’
Wilhelmina anxiously looked at the heavy rain outside. ‘I’ll go with you.’
‘Please don’t, Your Majesty,’ Sir Wolf dissuaded her. ‘It’s too cold and dangerous outside. If something happens to you, we can’t bear the responsibility. The guards and cavalry know the terrain and have medical supplies. Once we find the Prince, we’ll bring him back quickly. Please return to the Paris Palace and wait.’
Cynthia half-guided Wilhelmina back to the sitting room of the Paris Palace. The news of the Prince’s missing horseback ride had spread, and officials from the Palace Interior Ministry rushed to assist. Concerned glances were cast at the Queen.
Sensing the Queen’s annoyance, Cynthia asked everyone else to leave, then poured her a cup of hot cocoa.
‘The Palace Interior Ministry officials have notified the Prime Minister. He asked if he should come to the palace.’
‘Owen…’ Wilhelmina sighed, bitterly shaking her head. ‘No. Thank him, but there’s no need for him to come.’
‘The Prime Minister still wants to speak with you.'”
Wilhelmina closed her eyes wearily and leaned back on the sofa.
Cynthia withdrew to the next room where the handsome Prime Minister, Hans Borge, waited anxiously on video call.
“Her Majesty is not available at the moment, sir,” Cynthia apologized.
“Can I come to the palace to wait for news?”
“Her Majesty said to consult with Sir Wolf.”
Hans Borge fell silent, his expression revealing subtle sadness and worry. “Sir, I believe Her Majesty will understand your feelings,” Cynthia said.
“Thank you, Miss Steiman. How is Her Majesty?”
“She’s relatively calm but looks guilty… they had just quarreled.”
“I can imagine,” Hans replied bitterly. “Thank you, Miss. Please take care of her.”
“I will, sir,” Cynthia replied, moved by his concern.
A female attendant entered and asked, “Does Her Majesty want dinner, Miss Steiman?”
Cynthia glanced at the closed door. “It would be good to at least persuade her to eat a few bites.”
The attendant pushed the meal cart as they entered the sitting room, where Wilhelmina sat up wearily.
“I’m not hungry.”
“At least have some soup, Your Majesty,” Cynthia gently persuaded.
Wilhelmina looked at the dim sky outside. “Any news yet?”
“We’ll have news soon, Your Majesty,” Cynthia said, handing the hot soup to the Queen. “We believe the Prince must have injured his foot and can’t walk, which is why he sent the horse back to report. The Prince has experienced gunfire on the battlefield. How could anything happen in the royal gardens?”
Wilhelmina barely swallowed two spoonfuls of soup. The tangled emotions made her feel nauseous. After that, despite Cynthia’s persuasion, she ate nothing more.
As the sky darkened, the first search team returned with disappointing news: they had not found Prince Albert. The search personnel decided to expand their range, and police hover cars were deployed for thermal detection and lighting.
By nine in the evening, there was still no news of Prince Albert. After advice from Palace Interior Ministry officials, Wilhelmina finally agreed to meet with the Prime Minister and cabinet ministers, especially those from the Security and Intelligence Bureaus.
Hans Borge, receiving the notification, was clearly stunned. “They still haven’t found him?”
“Apparently not,” Fax said. “The palace specifically named the Security Bureau. Do you think this might be a kidnapping?”
“I’m not sure,” Hans Borge replied, darkening as he stood up, grabbed his coat, and strode out.
Although he had anticipated it, seeing Wilhelmina’s pale and haggard yet still pretending to be strong appearance made his heart ache. This was a familiar sight; whenever she faced pain, she looked like this, covering her inner fear and pain with a thin layer of ice, creating an illusion of resilience. This expression reminded him of her father’s funeral and when she learned he was about to be transferred. Now, it was because of her missing husband.
Restraining the urge to embrace and comfort her, Hans Borg bowed, “Your Majesty.”
“You’re all here,” Wilhelmina nodded calmly. Her complexion was poor, her lips bluish, suggesting illness.
“The officials from the Imperial Household Ministry suggested I call you here, but I prefer to believe this is just a lost incident. The search and rescue team will find the Prince. He clearly did not go to his usual place today, and the Royal Gardens are indeed quite large…”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Head of Security concurred, “According to my subordinates, we have not discovered any actions detrimental to the Royal Family.”
“Thank you,” Wilhelmina forced a slight smile, “I feel more reassured. Mr. Hans Borg, you can go discuss cooperation with the Guard Corps?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I have something to discuss with you.”
Once the others had withdrawn, Wilhelmina could no longer maintain her façade.
She sank into the sofa, her head resting weakly against the backrest, her eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.
“I don’t know what to do, Owen. I’m truly afraid.”
Hans Borg felt his heart ache. He knelt before her and took her hand.
“Be strong, Willy. The Prince will be fine.”
“But I was furious with him this afternoon,” she said with a bitter smile. “I shouted at him and hurt his heart…”
“He is a man. He knows you were angry and won’t hold a grudge.”
“But what if something really happens to him?” Wilhelmina’s sorrowful look caused him unbearable pain.
