Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince

Inside Westminster Abbey, the crown ceremony of Her Royal Highness, Diana Rosemary Edinburgh, is going smoothly. One hour had already passed and nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Alexander was sitting at the front pew, an exclusive seat reserved only for the head of states of the great powers. The pew gave them a clear view of what was happening at the coronation.

So far, the King of Britannia Empire is doing a long speech, which topics covering the history of the Britannia Empire and its development towards what it is today.

Alexander was bored by the speech that he almost dozed off. Listening to speeches that are not relevant to himself is always entering his right ear and out to the other.

Looking around, Alexander found that every leader of the great powers is carefree. They are not aware of the threat looming around Westminster Abbey.

About a certain syndicate that plans to eliminate them all. This bothered him a little.

And then the speech of the King of Britannia ended.

A round of applause reverberated inside the cathedral. And now, the most awaited part of the succession ceremony has begun.

Diana, the future Queen of the Britannia Empire, walked down gracefully from her place in front of the altar. She’s wearing a white ornamental dress that glimmered under the light of the cathedral.

As she neared the seat akin to a throne, the archbishops and the members of the clergies participating in the crown ceremony bowed their heads reverently before resuming their task.

The Groom of the Robes to the Dean of Westminster stepped forward and delivered an imperial robe and placed it upon Diana’s back. He was assisted by the Mistress of the Robes, fastening what needed to fasten, and Diana sat down.

The Archbishop began. “Receive this Imperial Robe, and the Lord your God endue you with knowledge and wisdom, with majesty and with power from on high. The Lord clothe you with the robe of righteousness, and with the garments of salvation. Amen.”

After that, the delivery of the orb part began. The Dean of Westminster brought the orb from the altar and handed it to Diana, who then held it in her right hand.

As soon as Diana received the orb, the Archbishop began.

“Receive this Orb set under the Cross, and remember that the whole world is subject to the Power and Empire of Christ our Redeemer.”

Alexander watched the ceremony attentively. It was quite different from the one he had when he was crowned the Emperor of the Ruthenia Empire. So far, nothing odd has happened yet. He glanced at Sevastian, who was keenly listening to the reports the teams outside Westminster Abbey were making.

He can feel to himself, that at any moment, something is going to break out. There’s no way the Black Hand would stand idly and watch the ceremony proceed.

“Alexander…are you okay? You look pale,” a voice sounded beside him. It was the Emperor of the Sardegna Empire, Victor Immanuel the third.

“I’m fine, Victor. I just remembered something embarrassing that made my face pale,” Alexander chuckled as he lied.

“I understand,” Immanuel nodded. “Everyone has an embarrassing moment in their life. I hope that you go through it.”

“I appreciate the kind words, Immanuel,” Alexander smiled as bowed lightly.

He returned his attention to the crown ceremony and based on what was happening in the front. When Diana is now holding a royal scepter in her left hand and the queen’s ring, he can tell that they are moving on to the next part, which is the placing of the crown on Diana’s head.

Everyone inside the cathedral stood as instructed by the papers they’d received from the authorities of the royal family.

“O God the Crown of the faithful: Bless we beseech thee this Crown, and so sanctify thy servant Diana, upon whose head this day thou dost place it for a sign of royal majesty, that she may be filled by thine abundant grace with all princely virtues: through the King Eternal Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The Dean of Westminster handed the crown to the Archbishop, who then brought it to Diana, and placed it reverently upon her head. Suddenly, the choir inside the cathedral started shouting the phrase “God Save the Queen” repeatedly and stopped to give way for the Archbishop to speak.

“God crown you with a crown of glory and righteousness, that having a right faith and manifold fruit of good works, you may obtain the crown of an everlasting kingdom by the gift of him whose kingdom endureth for ever. Amen.”

Then the choir began to sing. The people inside the cathedral remained standing until the Homage ended.

***

Meanwhile, outside of Westminster Abbey. The Britannian citizens who were spectating outside cheered loudly in joy, welcoming the new Queen of the Britannia Empire.

As all of that was happening, one particular group was watching it unfold.

“The Queen has been crowned. Should we proceed?”

They consist of ten members, each one wearing thick clothing enough to conceal a special type of apparatus underneath it.

“Our time has come…Long Live the Black Hand.”

They waded through the crowd of people until they reached the most crowded place. A police officer walked up to them and stopped them in their tracks.

The police whispered. “Good luck.”

Then they scattered into the crowds.

Meanwhile, a Ruthenian agent with his sniper looking out the Westminster Abbey from the building window spotted something peculiar.

“This is Bravo zero-two, I’m detecting two tangoes walking into the crowd suspiciously. They looked tense and agitated. Possibly hostile, over.”

“Bravo zero-two, can you describe what you are seeing?”

The Ruthenian sniper moved his rifle to give him a better view from his scope.

“Two tangoes, walking into the crowd, with heads swiveling left and right anxiously. His hands are under his coat, possibly concealing a weapon of any kind—Oh shit…”

“Bravo zero-two, what was that?” Rolan demanded.

The guy just vaulted on the fence and he’s pulling some kind of a string,” Bravo zero-two reported. “It must be an explosive vest…request permission to shoot.”

“Bravo zero-two, permission granted. Take out that guy.”

Receiving authorization, Bravo zero-two pulled the trigger and struck the head of the suspicious person, causing his blood to splatter like crimson rain.

Immediately afterward, his comrades who just witnessed a terrifying sight grew anxious and believed that there was a bead on their heads.

“LONG LIVE THE BLACK HAND!” shouted one of the people, he pulled the string and an enormous explosion erupted outside Westminster Abbey, killing tens of people in an instant.

The crowds panicked and ran amok.

Seconds later, four explosions…five…explosions…no eight explosions followed. Killing hundreds.