Charlotte was dressed in a ghostly white makeup, with bright and dripping lipstick applied into a butterfly shape, and peach-colored blush accentuating her tilted eyes.
Walking in the 20-centimeter wooden clogs was not convenient, so she needed the support of two people to move around.
Just like a lifeless doll wrapped in gorgeous brocade, she moved slowly with stiff limbs.
As she was about to enter the shrine, there was a small circular pool near the entrance, not too big nor too small, connected with bamboo pipes that brought in fresh mountain spring water.
In the center of the pool stood a one-meter-tall bronze warrior, wearing classical armor, radiating a majestic aura.
Several elegant lotus plants were grown, but due to the winter season, the withered lotus leaves had dried up to a gray color.
According to custom, before entering any temple, one must wash their hands first and then enter the main hall.
With the guidance of a maid, Charlotte washed her hands and officially entered the shrine. She walked slowly up the white marble stairs onto the altar under the gaze of countless onlookers.
With every step she took, it symbolized her getting closer to the center of power.
Not only was Charlotte excited, but Rohan, who stood beside her, had also fulfilled his dream of over twenty years. Today, it was finally going to come true.
On the altar, the Emperor and Empress had been waiting for a long time, their hands resting in front of them, eagerly awaiting Charlotte’s arrival. The Empress had a kind and loving expression on her face.
She beckoned Charlotte with a gentle voice, as if it could drip like water. “Charlotte, come here, next to me. Let me have a good look at you. When I last saw you, you were only a girl of eleven or twelve.”
“It has only been a few years, and you’ve grown into a young lady. You are truly beautiful.”
While Charlotte maintained a calm demeanor on her face, deep down, she felt as proud as a white peacock and couldn’t help but snort.
Their last meeting was not when she was eleven or twelve. It was clearly last year, when she was selected as one of the four noble women to accompany the princess on her wedding day. However, when it came to the final selection made by the Empress, she was the first to be kicked out.
One reason was that she was more attractive than the princess herself, and the Empress was afraid she would steal the limelight from the bride.
But the royal family’s true face was so hypocritical. They clearly feared her existence but came up with ridiculous and absurd excuses to refuse her.
Their rejection was disrespectful, poking directly at Charlotte’s pain.
[Lainey really likes you, and I also wanted you to accompany her, but you know, they are all daughters of prominent families. You, on the other hand, are a illegitimate child. It’s fine in everyday situations, but for a state banquet, it’s a bit inappropriate.]
Charlotte could vividly remember the Empress’s expression of undisguised disdain when she said the words “a bit inappropriate.”
This was essentially the Empress telling her, who was an illegitimate child, that she couldn’t rise to a high position.
Now that she heard Charlotte was going to become the head of the Miller family, the Empress actively dropped her haughty demeanor and brought generous gifts to curry favor with her.
Apart from the rise in her status, the change was also due to the fact that her son’s brother married the daughter of the Patel family and became more powerful.
Worried that her son’s position as Crown Prince would be threatened, the Empress turned her attention to the Miller family, choosing Charlotte, someone she had previously looked down upon.
Facing the Empress’s warm and friendly gesture, Charlotte remained indifferent and calm. She glanced at her lightly and continued walking ahead.
“Is that so? Your praise is undeserved, your highness. How could I compare to Lainey who is the number one beauty in Truphis?”
Charlotte intentionally mentioned Lainey and she was also reminding the Empress not to forget the disrespect she had shown to her just last year.
Sure enough, after the Empress listened, the smile on her face froze, her complexion alternating between pale and purple, with a faint glint of anger in her eyes.
Beneath the wide sleeves of her robe, her hands with the crimson red nail polish clenched into fists, allowing the sharp nails to pierce into her palms, a stinging sensation, yet she remained oblivious to it.
Who gave this lowly illegitimate daughter such audacity?
To dare mock her.
Even if she became the head of the Miller family, as long as she married the crown prince, she would be her daughter-in-law.
There was a white war between those two women.
The Emperor took the medal and sash handed to him by the President and personally placed it on Charlotte.
But the purple sash was usually only awarded to scientists who had made significant contributions to the country and the people, or to generals who died on the battlefield.
The Miller family had a long history of military service, and handing such a high honor to Charlotte, a girl of less than twenty-five, was partly to uphold the honor of the Miller family ancestors.
“Miss Miller, from today onwards, you will be the head of the Miller family. I hope you will be responsible for the family while also taking on this significant responsibility for the empire.” With those words, the Emperor stepped back, leaving the stage to Charlotte.
At this point, a middle-aged man in a black suit, slightly overweight, walked laboriously from the side of the stage, smiling as he announced:
“The sash ceremony is over, and the next agenda will be the final inheritance by the Yesenia Miller to Miss Charlotte Miller.”
The Praying Magic of the Miller family, well-known to the outside world, aroused immense curiosity among the onlookers, yet no one knew how the Millers learned and mastered it.
Now, the mystery was about to be revealed: the inheritance.
After the inheritance, the descendants of the Miller family were more or less able to glean some knowledge, but their proficiency depended on their talent.
Meanwhile, a petite figure swiftly passed through the crowded place, her steps slow and light like a nimble squirrel, unnoticed by anyone.
She made her way through the crowd and ascended the two-story high loft opposite the shrine, concealing herself behind the railing, revealing only a pair of bright, solemn eyes.
With a shrug of her shoulders, the enormous black cloth bag on her back fell, landing at her feet.
The zipper was pulled down, and the delicate fair hand lingered on the cold barrel of the gun, then tightened suddenly as she took out what was inside.
The gun was slender, with a barrel diameter of less than three centimeters, and the grip was not ordinary plastic, but coated with a special golden matte material.
Not only did it reduce the vibration when the bullet was fired, increasing stability, but it also effectively insulated heat.
She had tried it yesterday, and the sound suppression effect was also perfect.
It was indeed a high-quality item imported from Metshire for over three thousand dollars.
The quality justified the price.