Wilhelmina held a history book, observing people in protective suits disinfecting the garden. Since the outbreak, the palace had been disinfected three times daily. Although no cases had been discovered in Odin, the nobles and wealthy were prone to panic.
For children, however, the plague’s impact was more severe. Outdoor classes were canceled, and they were taking large amounts of medication without being vaccinated. As an animal, Lucy was isolated.
Social interactions were strictly controlled.
Wilhelmina felt lonely and bored; she missed Annabel’s conversations. Kerns was also confined, and no one could visit anyone.
Hans Borg silently entered the study and placed juice on the table.
Wilhelmina looked out the window, asking, “When will this disaster end?”
“Soon,” Hans Borg replied. “The new vaccine has been deployed, and the situation is under control. It’s estimated that in half a month, airspace restrictions will be lifted.”
“Fortunately, no one is sick in Monslanka,” Wilhelmina noted.
“You don’t need to worry,” Hans Borg reassured her. “Everything is improving. Just focus on preparing for your entrance exam.”
“I really hate art class,” Wilhelmina pouted.
Hans Borg smiled. His communicator rang, and after checking it, he said, “The latest news from the court: His Majesty will lead the royal family to the ‘Temple’ blessing ceremony on the 26th.”
“What do I need to do?”
“I’ll prepare an outfit for you and teach you the ceremony’s etiquette,” Hans Borg replied gently. “Remember, don’t smile at the media this time.”
On the day of the blessing ceremony, Wilhelmina appeared in public in a solemn dark blue dress, her black hair tied back, her expression serious. Annabel, holding her sister’s hand, wore a dark gray dress and looked pale.
The Emperor led his descendants to light the blessing torches.
On Saint Spring Square, hundreds of thousands of people shouted, “Long live the Empire!”
Wilhelmina stood behind her grandfather, looking down at the sea of people from the balcony railing. The deafening cheers shocked her young soul. For the first time, she felt the majesty of the royal family and the intoxicating power.
Kerns raised his eyebrows, “Mom said he can give him any title. That’s why Uncle and Aunt fought.”
Wilhelmina casually tilted her head, “But what does this have to do with me?”
“You’re so boring!” Kerns glared at her.
Wilhelmina walked out of the bathroom, where Hans Borg was waiting, handing her a towel. She wiped her hands, slowing her pace and falling behind the crowd.
As she handed the towel back, she whispered, “Kerns told me that Uncle Heinrich has a son outside.”
Hans Borg paused, “There is such a rumor.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Not for now, Your Highness,” he replied with a meaningful smile. “We must wait for another incident.”
Wilhelmina looked up, her azure eyes reflecting the handsome face of the young secretary. “I trust you, Owen,” she smiled innocently.
The incident Hans Borg spoke of did not take long to wait.
Just after Wilhelmina finished her entrance exam at the Odin Imperial Academy, she received some news from Hans Borg, who was waiting outside the venue with iced milk tea and lemon mousse cake. He reported that the Crown Prince had brought his lover and son out of the epidemic area to Loki Star, but the ship carried the virus, which subsequently broke out there.
Loki Star was less than three hours’ flight from Odin, one of the imperial hubs. Despite timely rescue and vaccinations, the virus claimed nearly three thousand lives, including the Crown Prince’s mistress. The flight ban was still in effect, indicating the specially authorized ship’s ownership.
Wilhelmina rode a hover car back to Rose Palace, passing several protest sites. By the time she reached the Rose Gate, it was crowded with protesters. Small private cars hung banners, while crowds shouted from the decks of medium-sized ships. A leaflet flew over and stuck to her car window—a white background with a large black skull wearing a crown, and the word “Massacre” printed in bright red underneath.
“We can’t get through,” the adjutant contacted the palace guard and anxiously turned to Hans Borg. “The protesters have blocked all roads. All gates are surrounded by people. His Majesty has not yet issued a dispersal order.”
Hans Borg frowned at the crowd outside. “Then let’s leave. Keep a low profile and don’t draw their attention.”
The hover car lowered its altitude and began to turn. Sunlight glimmered on the car body, and the golden rose lion emblem on the black paint caught everyone’s eye.
“It’s a royal car!” shouted the rioting crowd. “Stop it, don’t let them escape!” Almost instantly, the small royal car was surrounded by hundreds of private hover cars.
Wilhelmina stared in shock at the dense vehicles outside, then was pulled into Hans Borg’s arms. He wrapped her in his outer coat, holding her protectively. Just as he did, a foreign object hit the car window with a loud bang.
Wilhelmina trembled, held tighter by Hans. “Don’t be afraid!” he softly comforted her. “We are safe in the car.”
Dense impacts surrounded the hover car—stones, mud, dead animals.
“Sir?” the adjutant called out.
“No counterattack!” Hans Borg shouted, his authoritative voice making Wilhelmina feel secure as she clutched his clothing. The adjutant and guards reluctantly lowered their guns.
“Continue to call for help! Absolutely do not land!” Hans ordered the driver.
But as soon as he finished speaking, a pressure from above suddenly struck the roof, violently shaking the car and causing it to drop. Hans Borg held Wilhelmina tightly, as she remained brave and calm.
“Sir, we can’t hold on!” the driver struggled with the steering wheel, but the pressure was overwhelming for the hover car. The vehicle landed with a loud bang.
“Hold onto me, don’t look,” Hans whispered to Wilhelmina, drawing his pistol. The mob rushed over, beating the car with metal rods, cracking the bulletproof glass and triggering a sharp alarm.
The rescue team had not yet arrived, and they couldn’t hold out much longer. Charging out was impossible. Hans issued a final order, and the guards surrounded them, forming a human wall for Wilhelmina. The front windows had shattered and were on the verge of breaking completely.
Hans raised his gun, feeling adrenaline rush through him. He was a former military man, experienced in battle, and the violent instincts within him were awakening.
Wilhelmina heard the sound of the safety being released. She swallowed but did not feel afraid. She emerged from her clothes to see Hans Borg’s tense face, filled with unfamiliar emotions—resolute and bloodthirsty excitement.
Borg aimed his gun at a man about to smash the front glass, poised to pull the trigger. Just then, a small hand rested on his gun hand.
“Wait…”
Chapter 11
The metal rod’s downward motion was halted by a sharp siren. Smoke grenades filled the area with a choking mist, and those who resisted were hit by magnetic rounds from riot guns, twitching before collapsing.
Chaos ensued as people scattered, hover cars and spaceships fleeing from riot vehicles. The royal car remained battered yet closed.
Several silver-gray private cars descended beside the royal car. After a safety confirmation signal, the deputy opened the door, followed by the driver and guards.
Hans Borg put away his gun and, holding Wilhelmina, stepped out of the car.
“I hope you are all well,” a crisp voice said.
Wilhelmina peeked out from Borg’s arms and saw a young man nearby.
The brown-haired youth wore a military school uniform, standing tall and straight, with a handsome face and a gentle smile, resembling a neighborhood older brother. However, this brother was holding a pitch-black long gun.
