Chapter 128

Chapter 128

Outside the palace stood three magnificent gilded arches. While ordinary officials' vehicles were required to stop at the outermost gate, the Princess’s carriage, bearing the royal insignia, drove straight through all three, halting only at the palace entrance.

Though Sophia often seemed unreliable at home, she was quite presentable in public. Having served in the military, her posture was impeccable. Under the pale blue sky, with only two faint, cloud-like mountains partially veiling the sunlight and breeze, she stood rigidly beside the carriage, the wind rustling through her tightly bound silver hair.

The Fourth Princess had achieved frequent military successes on the front lines, elevating the status of her household on the capital planet. As the hovercar glided past the triple arches, the royal steward had already taken note of its distinctive consecutive license plate number.

Hearing the click of the rear door, Sophia promptly extended her arm. A young man dressed in black velvet formal attire stepped out of the vehicle with a slight bow. The corners of her eyes lifted faintly, her serene face growing more elegant and beautiful with age. Her smooth silver hair was neatly coiled with a light blue ribbon and secured with a gemstone hairpin.

The royal steward stood under the corridor, bowing respectfully long before Eve approached. "Lady Eve, His Majesty is in the study."

Eve responded with a soft "Hmm" and asked, "Shall I go directly now?"

"I'm afraid there's no hurry," the steward replied cautiously. "Lord Sparti, Lord Barton, Lord Enosan, and other cabinet ministers are currently reporting in the study. You may wait a moment before going in."

Sparti was the Prime Minister, Barton the Minister of Transportation, and Enosan the Minister of Finance. The three of them being in the study together likely indicated they were reporting the new quarter’s budget proposal to the emperor.

The steward didn’t need to provide such detailed information, and Eve knew he was intentionally trying to build goodwill with her—or rather, with the Princess’s household she represented. She nodded in acknowledgment and smiled. "Thank you." Within the palace, only royal family members could bring attendants, and high-ranking officials with titles could bring stewards and scribes. All other followers were prohibited from entering. Though Eve had visited a few times before, albeit not for official reports, the rules remained the same. She gave Sophia a look, and the latter dutifully parked the car to find a parking spot.

Before leaving, Eve took the opportunity to adjust her collar and whispered, "I’ve found an online supervisor for the Princess’s household. By the time you return, he should be about to take up his duties."

"Ah?" Sophia paused, a look of confusion crossing her face. "What online supervisor?"

Can supervision even be done online?!

Eve only smiled cryptically. "You’ll understand once you experience it."

"......"

Sophia had no desire to learn what new anti-slacking mechanism her superior had recently devised.

The royal steward nearby kept his head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground, patiently waiting for the two members of the same household to finish their "friendly" exchange about daily management. Only then did he step forward to lead Eve inside.

It had been several months since her last visit to the palace. Eve glanced at the corridors on either side—the wall hangings had been replaced with a new collection of treasures. She couldn’t identify the original artists nor discern the aesthetic secrets hidden within the blue and black hues.

...Her taste in art was still stuck at "red and green look good."

Walking on the thick, patterned carpet, the passing attendants and officials moved hurriedly yet silently. At the eastern end of the palace’s second floor was the emperor’s study. The study door was firmly shut, and nearby in the corridor were round tables and wicker chairs for temporary rest. A palace maid poured Eve a cup of tea.

Eve gently blew away the floating leaves on the tea’s surface but did not drink it. After a brief sniff, she set it down and turned to ask the steward, "When did the gentlemen in the study arrive?"

"Reporting, madam, they arrived around 8:30 this morning. His Majesty summoned them at 9, and they have been in discussion since then."

Her eyes shifted to glance at the time on her terminal—exactly 10:30. By that calculation, the previous group’s report should be wrapping up.

Budget proposals weren’t summaries; they didn’t require lengthy presentations. Sure enough, Eve hadn’t been seated long before clear bell rings echoed from the study, signaling the end of the previous meeting.

The tall, carved doors swung inward. Eve stood up out of courtesy as several familiar faces from the Empire Central Television programs emerged one after another. The man at the forefront appeared to be in his forties, with a refined and handsome demeanor—Sparti Medici.

Whether he hadn’t noticed Eve or was deliberately ignoring her, he led his team directly past the waiting young woman in the corridor without so much as a glance.

As they passed by, their identical silver hair brushed against each other for a fleeting moment, yet the owners showed no intention of interaction.

The coldness of their relationship left the onlookers exchanging perplexed looks, unsure what to make of the widely rumored "father-daughter" dynamic.

If their relationship was poor, why would the Medici family head go through the trouble of acknowledging her? If it was good, their behavior suggested otherwise. Besides, when the news first broke, most colleagues and partners who knew Sparti well had been skeptical. Even now, aside from the Medici family’s acknowledgment, others remained uncertain about the matter.

After walking a dozen steps further, Sparti needed to head to another hall to meet with military department officials and took a different path. The remaining ministers returned to the cabinet, buzzing with questions as they pressed the two leading ministers for information: "Minister Barton, Minister Enosan, do you know what the relationship between the Prime Minister and that... young lady really is?"

Although Barton wasn’t a member of the Medici family like Enosan, he had followed Sparti through hard work and late nights, making him one of the Medici family head’s most steadfast supporters. On certain matters, he grasped Sparti’s thoughts better than even Enosan.

It was precisely for this reason that he found Eve’s origins all the more puzzling. Not to mention that over a decade ago, when Catherine was still alive, Sparti and his wife had been very close. Moreover, just in terms of appearance, Eve bore little resemblance to Sparti.

However—he glanced at Enosan Medici, who firmly insisted on Eve’s identity, and understood what Sparti was planning.

Barton let out a playful hum. "Since Lord Sparti has acknowledged it himself, why should the rest of you worry on his behalf? You’d be better off focusing on the stellar navigation route planning between the eighth and thirteenth main stars of the Sirius star system, which the Prime Minister just brought up. That’s far more interesting than a done deal."

His words seemed to confirm everything yet revealed nothing concrete. The other ministers listened but had no grounds to object, so they released the surrounded Enosan and dispersed to attend to their own tasks.

The emperor’s study was warm and luxurious. Taking advantage of the transition between officials, palace maids swarmed in quickly. Some changed the water, others opened windows for ventilation, and a few cleaned up the remnants left by the previous officials. The last maid to exit gracefully approached to invite Eve inside.

The steward could not follow her in. He stood behind Eve, helping to close the study door. The emperor, draped only in a deep violet embroidered robe, sat at his desk reviewing the pre-submitted report. "—So Chris believes that the increased frequency of Advanced Zerg appearances in recent years is abnormal and wants to remind me to prepare early?"

"Yes," Eve nodded, her long eyelashes lowering into a submissive and respectful arc. "In fact, more than the Advanced Zerg, she is concerned that the consecutive awakenings of Royal Zerg might be an omen of another Zerg war."

It wasn’t just an omen—Eve knew full well that this was the first shot of the Zerg war. The scale of the disaster brought by the Zerg war would be a catastrophe not only for the empire but for all intelligent civilizations in this universe.

The implications behind this report were truly alarming.

"That does sound quite urgent."

Contrary to Eve’s expectations, she had thought that upon receiving this report, the emperor would either take immediate action or order the mobilization of relevant data. Instead, he merely set down the report with a dismissive expression. "The front line situation fluctuates between tension and calm—it’s part of the natural order of the cosmos. Although Chris has a great talent for warfare, she lacks experience, which is why she’s nervous about just a few years of war data. This isn’t actually a serious matter. You’re all being too anxious."

Eve looked up abruptly, unable to believe what she was hearing. She opened her mouth, about to argue instinctively, "But Her Highness’s concerns are not unfounded. The data—"

"Alright, I understand what you mean," the emperor said, as a breeze blew in through the half-open window, forcing him to press down on the paper containing the military’s confidential documents. He still appeared exceedingly patient, regarding Eve as if she were an impulsive junior. "Perhaps the data is indeed somewhat abnormal, and the peak values are higher than in the past. But consider this: there are many experienced veterans in the military department. Any data Chris can find, others can find as well, right? Since those veterans haven’t raised this issue, doesn’t that already prove that Chris is overreacting?"

...What is this old fool saying? Eve stared at him in disbelief.

How could those people—more than half of whom had likely been appointed through backdoors and spent their days as armchair generals in holographic command rooms—compare to Qin Mengde, who had personally faced Royal Zerg?

"Besides, the last Zerg war was several hundred years ago... Hmm, that would have been during the early days of the empire. Back then, some said the Zerg had been completely suppressed into the depths of the universe. Bringing this up now would only cause unnecessary public panic, wouldn’t it?" The emperor chuckled, seemingly convinced of his own logic.

He smiled slightly. "Speaking of which, the great hero of the last Zerg war, Commander Maria, was from the same family as you. Now that you’ve come of age, it’s normal for young people your age to want to make achievements and build careers. Therefore, I won’t criticize you too harshly for this overcaution, but in the future, you must consider things more carefully. Understood?"

Eve took a deep breath and finally replied with restraint, "...Yes. Thank you for your guidance, Your Majesty."

"If there’s nothing else, you may withdraw. It’s been months since your last visit to the palace. Take the time to pay your respects to the Empress on Chris’s behalf. Some social duties must be fulfilled properly."

"Yes."

The study door opened and closed once more. The steward had only taken two steps forward when Eve waved him off. "There’s no need to attend to me. I’ll be heading to Her Majesty the Empress shortly, so your assistance won’t be necessary."

Her stoic expression dissolved completely the moment she left the front palace. Eve pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, her face dark and cold.

The emperor might not have been unaware of the threat posed by the Zerg on the front lines, but his attitude made it clear—he had no intention of preparing for it. Simply put, he wouldn’t act until disaster was at his doorstep.

If the ones reporting the military situation today had been the legion commanders and generals of the Cavendish family, there might have been room for discussion. But the mistake lay in Eve and Qin Mengde overestimating their own influence and the emperor’s sense of responsibility.

Ultimately, it came down to a lack of clout.

Frowning, Eve slowly strolled along the palace pathways. The Empress was usually either in her chambers or hosting tea parties with a crowd of ladies in the garden. Every meeting with her felt like fighting a battle without gunpowder—exhausting. So Eve deliberately dragged her feet on the way.

The palace gardens were opulent and well-manicured, with trees arranged in an orderly yet natural manner. Eve purposely chose a secluded path, and as she walked, even the passing palace staff gradually disappeared, leaving only the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves and the delicate calls of the exotic pet birds.

Lost in thought, she failed to notice the whistling wind above her until her concentration broke. A shadow the size of a head swooped past like an escapee bolting for freedom, swiftly crashing into a tall tree ahead.

At the same time, hurried footsteps approached, and a childish, lively cry came from behind: "My ball!"

Eve's thoughts were abruptly interrupted. Turning around, she saw a little girl of about five or six running toward her. The girl’s sparse wine-red hair was tied into two lopsided, messy pigtails, and her emerald-green eyes were filled with urgency. The hem of her gem-studded dress was dotted with specks of mud.

Noticing Eve’s gaze, the girl snapped, "Why are you staring at me? Hurry up and help me get my ball down!"

What ball?

Eve suddenly remembered something flying over her head moments earlier. She paused, looked up at the tree behind her, and spotted a round, golden ball lodged firmly among the dense branches.

"......" Eve glanced at the girl’s short stature, then eyed the height where the ball had landed. She crouched down and asked sincerely, "How'd you manage to throw it up there?"

It was like witnessing a martial arts prodigy defying the laws of physics!

"That was my uncle’s doing!"

The girl was hopping with impatience, tears welling in her eyes. "Please help me get it down. That ball... my mom gave it to me. It’s my favorite... It’s all Uncle’s fault. He said he’d play with me, but then he threw it so far away... Wah..."

Before she could finish, the sister who seemed aloof but pretty let out a soft sigh. With agile movements, Eve swiftly climbed the tall tree, retrieved the ball, found two footholds on the branches, and smoothly leaped back down.

The entire process was incredibly smooth. The girl’s sorrowful expression froze, quickly replaced by awe and admiration. Wide-eyed, she asked, "How are you so nimble?"

"Because I’m actually a descendant of dragons, blessed with mysterious bloodline powers," Eve replied casually, brushing aside two stray strands of hair by her cheeks. She tossed the shimmering ball to the girl while spouting nonsense. "Here, your ball."

As she turned to leave, a small hand tugged at her pant leg. "Wait, sister!"

"......" Eve looked down. "What is it?"

"My name is Lingling. What’s your name, sister?"

Lingling gave Eve a winning smile, and puffed out her chest proudly. "My mom is a princess! Since you helped me get back the ball she gave me, I’ll tell her about it, and she’ll reward you."

Eve found Lingling’s demeanor utterly adorable, but the only married princess in the royal family was the First Princess. Eve had little interest in any reward. So she simply ruffled Lingling’s hair, lifted the girl off her leg, and set her down on a slightly elevated rock by the roadside. "You’re welcome, Lingling. My mom always taught me to do good deeds without leaving a name. So you don’t need to know mine."

Lingling stared at her, clutching the ball tightly, blinking her big eyes.

Only after the tall figure disappeared down the road did a rustling sound come from behind Lingling, like boots stepping on soft, dry leaves.

Crown Prince Anthony smiled gently and called out, "Lingling, why are you climbing on such a high rock all by yourself? Be careful not to fall."

"Bad uncle!" Lingling touched the two uneven, messy buns on her head, and anger flared up. She deliberately turned her face away, pouting. "You made my hair so ugly and threw my ball so far away. I’m mad at you."

Anthony, both amused and exasperated, lifted his niece down from the rock. The Crown Prince of the Empire was unusually deferential before this little girl, crouching down to coax her. "Alright, alright, it’s all Uncle’s fault. Please be magnanimous, Lingling. Forgive me, okay?"

"Hmph!"

Lingling finally relented and turned to face him, giving her uncle a critical look. Anthony, long accustomed to her sudden outbursts, skillfully picked her up. As he did, his niece leaned on his shoulder, playing with her ball, and said, "I met a sister here earlier. She helped me get the ball down from the tree."

Anthony hummed in acknowledgment, but his steps suddenly halted when Lingling spoke again.

"That sister was so pretty, like a goddess. She was really agile too, with white hair and blue eyes," Lingling said, hugging the ball. "But she didn’t tell me her name because she said good deeds should be done anonymously."

"Ha ha ha."

The Crown Prince suddenly laughed. Lingling stopped talking and looked at him curiously. "Uncle, why are you laughing?"

"I’m laughing because Lingling accidentally did me a favor," Anthony said affectionately, tweaking her nose. The girl wrinkled her face in distaste, but he continued smiling. "If you like that sister, maybe I can help you, hmm?"