Buckingham Palace
To the east of the inner imperial palace, in a splendid palace chamber, dozens of palace maids and eunuchs hurried about. However, not a sound could be heard.
Everyone muted their breaths. Even their footsteps were careful and controlled, in a manner of great trepidation...
"The Princess will stay, the rest of you are dismissed."
"As you wish your majesty..."
On a spacious bed with an intricately carved bed frame, lined with exquisite drapes, there lay a woman breathing weakly. She was the one who gave that order. Though her voice was very quiet, there was something about it that was difficult to defy.
"Mother..."
"Jennie, come. Sit by my side. Let me... have a good... look at you."
The woman on the bed was the kingdom's Queen, Diana Bridgerton.
Presently, she appeared frail and waning, but the unified strength in her presence had a lasting impression.
Her natural air of nobility made one dare not to underestimate her, as expected of someone considered the number one beauty of the kingdom twenty years ago.
Even though twenty years had hurried by, one could still see the remnants of a beauty that could overthrow cities from her face.
Jennie sat quietly by Diana's side. Looking at her mother who had gotten so dreadfully thin, tears trickled silently down her cheeks.
Seeing her daughter like this, Diana revealed a pale smile, "I've always been sick for the past few years... Before I could get a look at my little Princess, you're all grown up."
"M-Mother." Jennie gently picked up Diana's hand from where it rested on the brocade blanket, but she dared not to hold it with any force. She could feel the bones in Diana's hand, and every vessel of blood could be seen under her fair skin. This hand looked so fragile, as if it might shatter with one touch.
"Sweetie, do not feel sad for mother. I no longer have any regrets. I just worry for you and your brother... cough cough cough."
"Mother, you should summon the imperial doctor." Jennie held Diana's hand as big drops of tears spilled from the frame of her eyes. The tears traced past a face seven-parts similar to Diana, crashing onto the red brocade blanket. It vanished quickly into the cloth, leaving only a dark round spot, like a dried bloodstain.
"Silly child, don't you know about my health? Let us have some time together, as mother and daughter. I have something to say to you."
Jennie nodded, obeying Diana's decree. However, the spots of dark red on the brocade blanket were quickly increasing...
Diana's breathing turned labored. Her chest was rising and falling greatly, as if she was trying hard to bear the physical discomfort. Yet, it was also as if she was trying hard to persevere in something.
"Jennie, in the future... If you marry, remember to choose with your heart. I... believe in my daughter's eyes... Do not think too much about matters of marriage... You... dear child, it's hard to stop... worrying about you."
"Mm, I understand...mom."
"And, your younger brother. Your younger brother has poor health. It might actually be better... if he does not take that position. If he thinks so too, he should express that early... The Duke of Winterfell... is considerate, he'll defi... definitely not... cough cough..."
"M-Mother! I understand!"
"Reporting Her Majesty, the Crown Prince is here!"
Hearing the report of the palace maid outside, Diana's dim eyes brightened with a trace of light.
"Let the Crown Prince come in!" Jennie said in a hurry.
The door to the bedchamber opened with a creak. Dressed in black robes embroidered with gold thread, wearing a white jade Prince's crown on his head, a young child walked inside.
He was the Crown Prince of the kingdom, Jonathan Bridgerton.
The face of this child was a reflection of his older sister Jennie, though there was more of a masculine look in his brows and eyes.
Not much could be described of his build as he was still small, and the paleness to his complexion gave him a sense of fragility despite the prestigious outfit.
"Mother! Royal sister." Jonathan went up to Diana's bed obediently, then he gave a courtesy towards his mother and older sister.
"Come, royal son. Let me have a look."
"Yes, mother." The eight year old Jonathan stood upright in front of Diana's bed.
Judging from his methodical manner, it seemed he was already equipped with the likeness of a King.
Looking at her son and daughter, Diana revealed a relieved smile. Towards Jonathan, she said with great effort, "Jonathan, remember to listen to your sister."
"As you wish m-mother!"
Jonathan was only eight years old, after all. Even though he had always been taught to 'conceal his anger and delight', seeing his mother like this, he couldn't stop himself from crying.
Diana's fuzzy gaze roamed between her son and daughter. Ultimately, she took a look at the tightly shut chamber door. She wanted to speak, but she stopped herself. In the end, she gave a faint and quiet sigh, then she closed her eyes slowly...
"Jonathan, please be honest. Do you wish to ascend to that throne?" Jennie suddenly asked.
"Mm... I do!"
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North border.
"Buddy, put this on, quick!" Jackson handed me a wide strip of sackcloth.
I took the strip of sackcloth, then tied it on my head like he did.
"What happened?" I asked quietly.
He replied to me in a hushed voice, "Her Majesty, the Queen has passed away!"
"Oh." I nodded.
"Her Majesty is General Windsor's younger sister." He continued.
Seeing the surprise in my expression, he sighed.
I was truly unaware of politics. Other than killing the Huns, I did not seem to care much about anything else.
Why would I?
"Buddy, you probably don't know. General Windsor's father was the sworn brother of the previous King. The old General had one son and one daughter. His son is our Grand Marshal, General Carl Windsor, while his daughter married the Crown Prince, our present King." He explained kindly.
I opened my mouth, but before I spoke, the low and deep sound of the signal horn arrived!
"Enemy invasion!"
As if I had changed into a different person in that instant, I quickly grabbed the rucksack on the bed and carried it on my back.
I picked up a spear from the rack and rushed out of the tent.
Jackson followed closely behind, then we went to our respective troops.
Once the troops had assembled, the archers ascended the barrack wall.
The war drums began to sound, drumming to the frequency of my heartbeat.
The ground started to quake slightly. With two years of experience, I could tell how many Huns had come just by the quaking of the ground. I could feel from this amplitude that this was going to be a tough battle!
"Get ready!"
"Shoot!"
Following the captain's order, the whistle of arrows breaking through the air echoed around the camp grounds.
The whinnies of the Huns' war horses could be heard in the distance. Mixed within them was a sorrowful noise.
"Pa!"
A shot archer fell from the barrack wall. He landed a short distance away from my troop.
I turned back for a look.
The arrow was more than an inch deep between his brows.
The flag holders started to wave commands to the various battalions.
I read the command in front of me: protect the archers, infantry soldiers to charge directly ahead, cavalry on pincers movement...
I gripped a spear in one hand, squeezing the podao on my waist with the other. The beat of the war drums changed, and the barrack wall was drawn open!
"Charge!"
The pioneer commander roared, and the infantry soldiers, first to bear the brunt, charged!
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