The civil and military officials knelt and shouted in unison.

Lord Kenny stood up slowly and strode out of the hall.

When he reached the back bedchamber entrance, a smile crept onto his face.

A slender figure with a beautiful face sat quietly on the soft and exquisite bed. She looked sad and troubled; tears had welled in her eyes.

It was Monica.

Lord Kenny approached her slowly.

Then, Lord Kenny stretched his hand out and pinched Monica's chin. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "My dear, I will issue an imperial decree to crown you as my Empress tomorrow, you—"

Before Lord Kenny could finish speaking, Monica pushed him away, shook her head and said, "Your Majesty, please let me go. You know that I only have Darryl in my heart. We're not fated—"

Monica looked sorrowful and miserable when she said that.

Darryl had been severely injured, and she did not have any news about his condition.

Her heart ached even more when her son, Ambrose, had stood with Lor