"Hey."
Cynthia's voice was soft but steady as she reached out to touch her daughter's hair. Eden had fallen asleep, head resting beside the hospital bed, still holding her mother's hand.
Eden stirred, blinking away the haze of exhaustion. When she saw her mother awake, she instantly straightened in her chair."Mom! How are you? Does anything hurt? Should I call the doctor?"
"I'm fine, sweetheart. You don't have to panic." Cynthia squeezed her daughter's hand, her lips curving into a tired smile.
Eden exhaled shakily. "Thank God. I was so scared." She leaned forward, pressing her mother's hand to her cheek, holding it there for a long, trembling moment.
From the next bed, a groggy voice broke the stillness. "Wait—did I just hear you call her Mom?"
Both women turned. Nancy, still pale from the explosion, was propped up against her pillows, staring at them with wide eyes. Paula stood near the window, arms folded, watching quietly.
Eden froze, her lips parting but no words coming out.
"I knew it," Nancy muttered, her eyes darting between Eden and Cynthia. "You can't just look like her by coincidence. That's impossible."
Cynthia and Paula exchanged a quick glance. Before Eden could speak, Paula stepped forward. Her tone was calm but sharp. "Now that you know who she is, I trust you'll keep your mouth shut."
Nancy scoffed. "What do you take me for? A gossip columnist?" She rolled her eyes but didn't push further.
The room went still again, thick with unspoken truth.
Then, a knock at the door.
"I'll get it," Eden said quickly, grateful for the distraction. She crossed the room and opened the door—only to find herself staring up at a tall man in uniform.
"Lieutenant Commander," she said, straightening instinctively.
"Miss," Davin greeted her with a polite nod. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You're not," Cynthia said from the bed, her voice composed. "Please, come in, Commander."
Eden stepped aside as he entered, the faint scent of rain and gun oil clinging to his coat. She shut the door quietly behind him.
"I assume you have news for us?" Cynthia asked, her tone shifting to one of quiet authority. "How are the others—the reporters?"
"They're safe," Davin replied. "We're lucky it wasn't a high-powered explosive. It was designed to scare you, maybe as a warning."
"A warning?" Nancy and Paula said at once.
"Do you have any suspects?" Nancy asked, leaning forward.
"None yet," Davin said. "But we're investigating. For now, we'll be assigning security to protect you."
"Security?" Nancy frowned. "She's retired. Who's paying for that?"
"Don't worry," Davin replied evenly. "Your agency didn't hire us."
Nancy blinked, her mouth closing as if she'd just realized her mistake.
"And for your safety," he added, glancing briefly at Eden, "I'll personally accompany you and your daughter."
"What?" Eden's voice shot up before she could stop it. "That's unnecessary. I don't need a bodyguard, Lieutenant."
"It's not a request," Davin said calmly, his eyes meeting hers. "It's my job."
"I told you, I'm fine," she snapped back, her voice tight with a mix of irritation and confusion. "You must have more important things to do than—"
"Eden." Cynthia's voice cut through the room—gentle but firm, the tone of a mother who hadn't used her authority in years.
Eden turned to her, stunned. "Mom?"
"Listen to him," Cynthia said quietly. "Please."
Eden's pulse quickened. Something in her mother's expression had changed—a look she couldn't quite read, a secret pressing at the edge of her calm façade.
"I don't understand," Eden whispered.
"You don't have to," Paula interjected, breaking the tension. "Just do as your mother says. It's for your safety."
Nancy threw up her hands. "Wait—did that explosion knock some sense out of all of you? Because I have no idea what's happening here."
"You wouldn't understand even if we explained it," Paula replied dryly. "So maybe focus on getting better. You'll have your hands full once the media starts tearing the place apart."
Nancy muttered something under her breath, but Cynthia's quiet laugh diffused the tension.
Eden, however, couldn't shake the unease curling in her chest. She looked at her mother again—really looked—and saw, for the first time, not just the world-renowned actress she admired, but the woman who had been carrying secrets far heavier than fame could hide.
She wanted to ask why now, why keep me hidden, who are we running from—but the words wouldn't come.
Cynthia only reached for her hand again, her eyes shimmering with something between love and sorrow."Everything will make sense soon," she said softly. "I promise."
And for a fleeting moment, Eden wondered if that promise was meant for comfort… or for goodbye.
"I understand the need for security at the hospital," Eden said, her brows knitting together as she stepped out of the car. Several men in dark suits stood guard outside their gate. "But why here? Why bring all this home?"
When she entered, her steps faltered. Davin was inside, adjusting a small security camera on the living room wall."What on earth is going on?" she demanded, turning to her mother. "Why all the fuss?"
Cynthia set her bag down gently, her movements deliberate. "Come here, sweetheart. There's something I need to tell you."
Eden hesitated, sensing the weight behind her mother's tone, but followed her to the sofa. Paula took a quiet seat nearby, watching them both.
"Do you remember the rings I gave you?" Cynthia asked.
"Yes," Eden said, unclasping the delicate bracelet from her wrist. "They're right here."
Cynthia reached out and touched them, her thumb brushing over the gold bands. "They're not just any rings. They're my wedding rings."
Eden frowned. "You already told me that."
"Yes," Cynthia said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "But I didn't tell you who I married." She opened her bag and pulled out a small envelope. From it, she drew several photographs—one of a man and woman in wedding attire, another of a young family smiling before an ornate palace.
Eden's breath caught. The man's face was unmistakable—stern yet warm, wearing a ceremonial sash she had seen before. "Wait… I've seen him somewhere. Isn't this the late King of—"
Cynthia nodded before she could finish. "Yes. King Darius of Valenor. He's your father."
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop.
"The rings you wear were ours," Cynthia continued, voice thick with emotion. "And the necklace you've always worn—it was his gift to you, the day you were born. You were his most precious treasure."
Eden stared at the photos, her mind spinning. "My father… was a king?" She shook her head, her voice breaking. "Mom, that's—this is impossible. Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because you deserve to know," Cynthia said, reaching for her hand. "I'm so sorry for keeping this from you for twenty years. I thought I was protecting you—"
"Protecting me?" Eden pulled her hand back, eyes shining with disbelief. "By lying to me? By making me believe I didn't have a father?"
Tears welled in Cynthia's eyes. "Eden, please—"
"No." Eden stood, her voice trembling but sharp. "All my life, I accepted what you told me. I thought maybe he left. Or maybe… maybe I wasn't wanted. And now, suddenly, he's royalty? How do you expect me to process that?"
Cynthia's face softened with sorrow. "I know it's sudden, but I can't keep your identity a secret any longer. Not now. It's no longer safe."
"Not safe?" Eden's laugh was hollow. "You managed to keep it secret for twenty years! What's changed?"
"Everything," Cynthia said simply. "You're not a child anymore, and there are people who would use you to hurt the throne—to hurt what your father built."
Eden took a shaky breath, her thoughts spiraling. "I don't know if I can believe this," she whispered. "I just… I need time."
"Eden—" Cynthia began, reaching out again.
But her daughter was already stepping back, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't do this right now."
"Eden!" Cynthia called after her, but Paula rose gently and laid a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Let her go," Paula said softly. "She needs time to breathe."
Cynthia's lips quivered, but she nodded.
Paula turned toward Davin, who had quietly finished his task and now stood near the doorway. "Commander," she said. "Would you mind following her? Just to make sure she's safe."
"Of course," Davin replied with quiet authority.
He slipped out the door and caught sight of Eden heading down the street, her steps quick and aimless. The guards moved to follow, but he held up a hand. "I'll handle this," he said firmly.
He trailed her from a distance as she wandered through the quiet streets of the village—barefoot in her grief, her mind in turmoil. She didn't hail a cab or call a friend. She just walked, as if distance could unravel the truth she'd just learned.
And behind her, Davin followed silently, a shadow sworn to protect a princess who didn't yet know what kind of world she was about to inherit.