The two black carriages stopped in front of the orange three-story villa in the south of Brussels.
Perna, dressed in a uniform, stepped down from the carriage, her polished boots tapping urgently on the gravel path.
She clenched the letter in her pocket, her brow furrowed, praying constantly in her heart: Jesus, please don't let anything have happened to His Highness.
But when she saw the Prince's Guards around all looking calm, she instantly breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed that His Highness was probably fine; otherwise, chaos would have erupted here long ago.
Then what on earth was the matter?
She recalled the content of the letter, roughly stating that a significant event would occur tonight at the Crown Prince's temporary residence in Room 203, and she must come, or she would regret it.
The letter had been delivered by a soldier in the afternoon, but the sender was unknown.
After reading the letter, Perna hurried over without delay.
