The swans glided over the water.
voice — soft — fading.
"Look at the couple of swans..."
A tired laugh from behind the camera.
"Haha... couple..."
Then — static.
.....
The screen fractured.
...
The swans rose — wings slicing against the last light of day.
"Let us meet there..."
"Let us live again... not as royalty..."
"But as a .... family."
The camera fell.
The last sound.
A quiet thud.
___________________________
November 1961 — Huis ten Bosch
___________________________
| "It was raining."
| "Everyone wore black."
| "Mama... she was there."
| "In the coffin."
| "Carried by Imperial Guards."
| "Lady Seraphina — she held my hand with her soft hand."
....
| "Since that day..."
| "I understood..."
| "The meaning of..."
DEATH.
___________________________
The Funeral of
Tatiana Romanov Aetherwald
"The People's Queen"
___________________________
The city of Den Haag was silent.
Not from law.
Not from fear.
But from mourning.
Tatiana Romanov — the Healer of the World,
The Noble Prize Doctor,
Leader of the International Red Cross...
Gone.
___________________________
They called her Mother Tatiana.
The People's Queen.
To the poor — she was a mother.
To the wounded — a doctor.
To the Empire — a smile in the dark corridors of politics.
___________________________
Thousands lined the streets.
They cried.
They threw white tulips.
They whispered prayers.
But inside the marble halls of power...
The court was silent.
Too silent.
Eyes sharp.
Smiles tight.
Lips that did not pray.
To them — the death of a Romanov...
Was relief.
An end to an inconvenient bloodline.
___________________________
Somewhere Behind the Procession — The Imperial Navy
Men stood in their formal coats.
Decorations bright.
But their voices?
Low.
Sharp.
Cold.
"Poison."
"Assassination."
"Political Dismissal."
Words that meant nothing to a little girl.
But everything to a history waiting to devour her.
Selene stood nearby.
Tiny.
Clutching Seraphina's hand.
She heard them.
Didn't understand.
But never forgot.
___________________________
July 1964 — The Imperial Ball of Aetherland Unity Days
___________________________
Music echoed in the grand ballroom.
Gold reflected everywhere.
Selene — now a little older — her crimson eyes sharper, darker.
Watching.
Learning.
Eating pudding quietly near the banquet table.
Across the room — Navy Officers Mingle with an Admiral
"That's the Romanov child..."
Other officer mocking
"Careful, she might poison the wine — like her mother's whispers."
They laughed.
Arrogant.
Ugly.
Selene blinked.
Lifted her pudding.
And with perfect, childish precision...
Threw it.
Right at prideful stars on the shoulder.
Silence fell.
___________________________
The music stopped.
The Admiral froze — pudding sliding down his decorated uniform.
he walk into her
whisper
"Throwing a pudding. not make your mother back to live"
Evandra gasped in horror.
Alaric whispered:
"Oh no... she's dead."
The Emperor — across the ballroom — turned slightly.
His eyes...
Did not glare.
Did not shout.
But watched her.
And for the first time...
He saw a spark.
A war.
A daughter no crown could ever control.
___________________________