I had expected it to be a normal political situation. The guard reported someone near my priceless treasure room, which was adjacent to my baby's nursery. I immediately doubled the protection for both areas, my mind already calculating possible political motivations and security breaches.

Not long after, the guards reported catching someone in my private chamber, reaching for what they assumed was my stash of priceless jewellery. My tone dripped with disdain as I ordered them to unmask the culprit, already formulating questions about their allegiance and who had sent them.

But as soon as I arrived, my imperial composure shattered. Instead of the political spy or disloyal servant I anticipated, I found a young face with tears streaming down their cheeks. The sobs were unmistakable—high-pitched and full of genuine fear. My child, my precious daughter, was tied up with ropes, looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes.

Immediately, I switched into mama bear mode, pushing past the guards to kneel down and untie the ropes binding her small wrists. "M-My precious baby, what on earth were you thinking?" I demanded, my voice a mixture of relief and anger—not at her, but at the situation.

I turned to the present knights, my imperial authority returning in full force. "She's only a five year old girl," I said in disbelief at their mistake. "How could you not recognize the princess?"