On the day of my coronation, my chemise was stained with a faint red.
My mother suddenly slapped her forehead: "Oh right, Eleanor, you are a girl."
Then her hand clutching the pearl cross paused, and she composed herself first: "Fortunately, the coronation is already over."
Nurse Mary rushed in with a new linen chemise, its hem embroidered with lily of the valley she had stitched herself. John, my personal attendant, leaned down to whisper: "The Duke of Drake's mansion has been surrounded by the knight order, awaiting only the king's command."
I gazed at the diamond-adorned crown in the mirror and nodded slightly: "Seal it."
So I was a woman.
After the shock, I calmed down to reflect—how was I any different from the Eleanor of yesterday? I was still the king's only daughter, the crown prince, and now Eleanor who was to become a wise monarch. Gender was no more significant to me than the color of my hair.
I turned to my mother: "All these years of fear and vigilance—do you regret it?"
She stroked the pearls in my hair, laughter crinkling the lines at the corners of her eyes: "You are my daughter."
I turned to my abdicated father—the former king was reclining on a velvet divan, teasing a canary in a cage: "Did you ever suspect, Father? Even for a moment?"
He scratched the cat's ears and looked up, his blue eyes bright as lake water: "You are my only bloodline. When it comes to inheriting the throne, I trust no one but you." He ruffled my golden hair, "After raising you for twenty years, how could I truly not have seen?"
I sighed: "Father, it was Mother and Nurse Mary who actually raised me."
"How many times a year did you see me, when you were always at the opera?"
The old king yelped as the cat scratched his hand: "Anyway, you're queen now." He waved to a servant, "Fetch the new harpist. That piece from yesterday, *Roses and Nightingales*—"
I curtsied, stifling a laugh, and withdrew.
The first order of business for the new sovereign was selecting new ministers.
The taverns buzzed with gossip, the scent of ale mixing with bread: "That last selection didn't care about birth, even commoners could apply—utter chaos."
"We need a proper noble nomination process!"
Heinrich and I stood by the stained-glass window, his silver-gray eyes catching the light: "Does Your Majesty truly not plan to hold another commoner selection?"
I chuckled: "These scholars only act when there's profit. They sure know how to calculate."
I looked out at the rose garden beyond the council chamber, where red roses bloomed fiercely: "As crown prince, I could afford small experiments, but if commoners truly joined the council, the nobles would likely overthrow it."
"But I refuse to compromise."
I lifted my skirts and walked out, Heinrich following silently.
"Yet I don't wish to you. Heinrich, go tell the Lord Chancellor I approve the patronage system this time."
"Each noble family may nominate three young men, to be personally selected by me for the council."
He bowed his head in agreement, and when he looked up, a flash of resolve lit his eyes: "Then Grandfather should agree to the *Treatise on Divine Mandate*."
I nodded.
Heinrich's *Treatise on Divine Mandate* stated: "The monarch, entrusted with divine mandate, rules the people on behalf of heaven. Though their bodies may be male or female, their authority stems from the same source."
In essence, divine royal power has nothing to do with gender.
A year after my coronation, Leonhard accompanied his brother to garrison the northern border fortress again. This time he took Blackstone—the foal I had given him, now a sturdy warhorse that had accompanied him through countless storms.
"Bring it back safely." I traced the St. George silver pendant around his neck as I looked at his fastened chainmail.
After the attendants withdrew, Leonhard remained kneeling on the red carpet, his iron gauntlets white-knuckled: "Your Majesty... I wish to request something of you."
I smiled softly and leaned down to kiss his forehead. A silk sachet fell into his palm, its fabric a familiar ivory—it was a scrap cut from my chemise.
"This was made by the ladies-in-waiting from my personal garments." My voice was as light as wind, "A keepsake."
Leonhard's Adam's apple bobbed as he carefully tucked the sachet inside his chainmail, close to his heart: "I will... I will protect it with my life."
"Wait for me to return." When he looked up, his blue eyes blazed like a northern ice lake.
On the day of his departure, I stood behind the battlements of the castle tower and watched his cavalry cross the drawbridge. Leonhard kept looking back, his red cape swirling like an unquenchable flame.
Heinrich beside me gave a soft snort: "He is naturally loath to leave Your Majesty."
I turned to look at him as he adjusted my ermine cloak, his fingertips secretly hooking my sleeve: "The Lord Chancellor keeps saying I'm too clingy, but if I don't cling to Your Majesty—"
"Since when have you learned to act spoiled?" I stifled a laugh and poked his side, causing his ears to redden all the way to his neck.
The kingdom left by the former king was not in ruins, but there was no shortage of tasks. Talents selected from agriculture, industry, and commerce had been dispatched to various counties, and I had established a "Overseas Trade Office" under Marcus's supervision.
"Marcus, where do you think wealth is hidden?" I asked, looking at the tax ledger on my desk, its parchment edges slightly curled from candle heat.
He did not answer, instead dipping his finger in tea to draw Heinrich's family crest on the wooden desk.
I nodded: "Noble families have accumulated wealth for centuries, yet the treasury is nothing but numbers on paper." Remembering the three chests of gold coins seized from the Duke of Drake's mansion, I sneered: "Even the Drakes are richer than me."
"Give them reasons to spend money." I rapped the desk, "You have a quick mind—use my name to launch caravans of novelties and fine foods. Make them willing to part with their gold."
Marcus's eyes sparkled like stars, his golden hair honeyed in the candlelight: "Brilliant, Your Majesty! I will make those old nobles scramble to buy!"
I sighed: "The Lord Chancellor helped me ascend the throne; I can't act against his faction yet."
I patted his shoulder, my crown-embroidered cuff brushing his linen shirt: "In the end, you are the one I can truly rely on."
He bowed his head, twisting his fingers, and suddenly mumbled: "How can I compare to Lord Heinrich? He accompanies you every day and sleeps in the royal study ten times more often than I do."
I couldn't help laughing: "Then you can sleep in the antechamber tonight."
"I still need to calculate the caravan accounts for Your Majesty!" He looked up immediately, his peach-blossom eyes tilting upward, "Unlike Lord Heinrich, who can spend half the night with you watching star charts."
"Unreasonable." I shook my head, "But you can at least dine with me."
Marcus instantly beamed, producing pastries from a box emblazoned with a merchant ship crest: "I brought new honey almond cakes today. Will Your Majesty try them?"
An attendant announced softly from outside: "Lord Heinrich has arrived."
Marcus pretended not to hear, pressing the pastry into my hand and secretly hooking my pinky: "I baked them myself—perfectly timed."
Ah, what to do with such clingy courtiers?
It's quite a dilemma.
But these almond cakes?
Perfectly sweet.