As Eden made her way toward the restroom, something caught her eye.
At the far end of the corridor, near the fire exit, she spotted Daniella and Ashmaria. The older woman's voice echoed faintly against the walls—low but cutting. Even from a distance, Eden could tell that Daniella was reprimanding her niece. Ashmaria stood motionless, her head bowed, shoulders stiff.
Eden paused mid-step. She didn't like eavesdropping, but the look on Ashmaria's face—helpless and humiliated—made her stop. Quietly, she stepped behind the open door, out of sight, and listened.
"What were you thinking?" Daniella hissed. "Do you really have to speak your mind in front of them? It was disgusting—apologizing to those kinds of people. And now, because Nancy's so-called talent refuses to model, we're stuck with a cheap replacement like her? She'll ruin our name and reputation!"
Her tone sharpened with every word. Eden's hands curled into fists, a pang of sympathy rising in her chest.
"I should have expected this from you," Daniella continued coldly. "You're new, inexperienced. I have no idea why they gave you this project—you can't even do one thing right. You're just like your mother."
From her hiding spot, Eden saw Ashmaria's fists clench at her sides. The young woman kept her gaze down, trembling slightly, fighting to stay silent.
"Maybe you should've stayed a firefighter—a rescue officer suits you better. At least there, you were good at something. Why insist on forcing yourself into the Kingdom's corporate world? You should try being more like Davin—at least he knows how to carry the family name."
Eden bit her lip, anger stirring inside her as she watched Ashmaria silently endure every cruel word.
"You should be grateful the Kingdom even took you in," Daniella went on. "If you want to keep your position, then do better. Don't bring shame to this family—or to our name."
Then her voice hardened further. "Make those two quit—quietly. I don't want them carrying the names of Empire or Kingdom. I won't let them ruin what our parents built. And don't you dare be the reason this project collapses. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ashmaria said softly, her voice strained, her fists still trembling at her sides.
"This should be a lesson to you," Daniella snapped before turning on her heel and striding toward the door.
Realizing Daniella was heading her way, Eden slipped out of sight and hurried down the corridor before she could be seen. Her heart was still racing—not from fear, but from anger and pity.
She'd seen enough to know that Ashmaria had been deeply hurt.
And as she washed her hands inside the restroom moments later, one thought kept circling in her mind—
How can I help her?
"Really?" Meynard and Bernard spoke almost in unison when Nancy announced that Eden had agreed to the photo session — a competition between her and the other model to decide who would become the new face of Kingdom and Empire.
"What? I thought you weren't interested," the rival model exclaimed, surprise mixed with scorn.
Eden smiled lightly. "Well, I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. Besides, I'm nothing compared to your experience, right?"
"Exactly," the other girl said with a smug tilt of her chin. "You're nothing compared to me. So if you want to go through with this, fine—just don't cry when you lose."
Bernard cleared his throat, diffusing the tension. "To keep this fair, we've invited several staff members and executive directors to act as judges. And, of course, our Marketing Head and Concept Manager."
"No!" the model protested, pointing toward Ashmaria. "If she's judging, it'll be biased! She doesn't even like me."
The room fell silent for a moment before Ashmaria spoke, her tone calm and firm. "That's fine. I'll withdraw as a judge."
Meynard nodded. "Then it's settled. Everyone, follow me to the event center."
The group made their way down the corridor. Inside the large, well-lit room, crews were still adjusting lights and backdrops. The smell of fresh paint and camera bulbs filled the air.
"We didn't expect to hold the shoot today," Meynard admitted, looking around, "so the setup may not be perfect. But a true royal presence can elevate any setting—don't you agree?" His eyes flicked toward the two young women.
Just then, Ashmaria entered, pushing a rack of gowns alongside two assistants. "These are the dresses I designed for the shoot," she said, her voice polite but steady.
"I have my own collection," the rival model interrupted sharply. "I don't wear anything made by unknown designers."
Ashmaria's fingers tightened briefly around the rack's handle, but she forced a faint, professional smile. Eden caught the flicker of hurt in her eyes.
"How about you, Miss Eden?" Bernard asked.
Eden turned toward the gowns. "I think I'd love to wear one of hers," she said, stepping closer to admire the fabrics. "They're beautiful. Did you make all of them yourself?"
"Not all," Ashmaria replied, her voice softening. "But this one—" She gently lifted a champagne-colored gown from the rack. The off-shoulder ball gown shimmered under the lights, its sequin lace and delicate floral beading catching the air. "I designed this for the concept—for a princess."
"Is it all right if I wear it?" Eden asked, hesitant but smiling.
"It would be an honor," Ashmaria said warmly. "That dress will shine with your beauty."
She realized too late that she'd spoken too earnestly, her excitement breaking through her usual restraint. "Sorry," she added quickly, blushing a little.
Eden only smiled wider, her tone soft. "Don't be. It's perfect."
Across the room, Cynthia and Paula exchanged knowing glances, smiles tugging at their lips.
"She's really starting to act like royalty," Paula murmured.
"I'm still nervous," Cynthia whispered, her fingers twisting the edge of her purse.
"Oh, come on," Paula replied, keeping her tone light. "She made her choice, and she knows what she's doing. Let's just support her, okay?"
When Eden returned from the restroom earlier, she'd surprised everyone by suddenly agreeing to take part in the project. Neither Paula nor Cynthia understood what made her change her mind—but when they looked into her eyes, they knew she was certain.
"Let's go, Eden. Let's get you ready," Nancy said briskly, ushering her toward the dressing room. Paula and Cynthia exchanged a glance and quickly followed, unwilling to leave the girl alone with Nancy's sharp tongue. A staff member guided them down the hall.
The rival model finished first. As she stepped out of her room, the crew fell silent in admiration. Her sapphire-blue gown shimmered under the studio lights, and the jeweled tiara on her head gleamed like starlight. The staff began to murmur, impressed by her confidence and poise.
Then the door to the next dressing room opened—
—and Eden stepped out.
The entire room froze.
The champagne-colored gown caught the light in soft waves, its sequined lace glowing like pale gold against her skin. Her hair framed her face in loose, elegant curls. She wasn't trying to look regal, yet she was. The air around her seemed to still.
"Wow…" Ashmaria breathed, her eyes wide as she stepped closer. "You look perfect. This dress truly resonates with your beauty—just as I thought."
Eden flushed and ducked her head. "You're flattering me, Ms. Bryant."
"If I am, it's only because you deserve it," Ashmaria said warmly. Then she smiled, a little shyly. "And please—just call me Ashmaria. I think we're close enough in age."
"Well then, only if you call me Eden," the girl replied with a grin. "I'm not fond of formalities."
Across the room, the rival model watched them, irritation tightening her smile. As much as she wanted to scoff, she couldn't deny the truth—Eden looked breathtaking.
The photoshoot began. The professional model went first, her movements precise and practiced. The camera clicked in rhythm, and the crew murmured praise at every pose.
"I'm getting nervous," Eden admitted softly. "She's… really good."
"Relax," Paula said, rubbing her goddaughter's back. "Just be yourself. You'll do fine."
"I've never done this before," Eden whispered.
"You'll be great," Paula assured her again.
When the first session ended, a staff member guided Eden to the stage. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her gown.
"What's wrong?" Ashmaria asked the cameraman, noticing he hadn't taken a single shot yet. He was peering through the lens, utterly still.
"Hey!" she nudged his arm.
He blinked, startled. "Oh—Miss Bryant, sorry. I just… she's incredible."
Ashmaria frowned in confusion, then leaned closer to peek at the camera's viewfinder.
Her breath caught.
Through the lens, Eden stood framed by the soft golden light, her expression calm and unforced, eyes shining like morning sun through mist. She didn't need to pose—the camera loved her naturally. She was the concept come to life.
"Wow," Ashmaria murmured. "She's perfect."
"I think we've found your princess," the cameraman said quietly.
Ashmaria smiled faintly but forced herself to remain professional. "We'll see. The executives will decide."
Still, in her heart, she already knew who deserved it.
The photoshoot lasted until early evening. When it finally ended, Daniella announced that the final decision would come after a private vote among the executives and staff.
To give everyone a break, Ashmaria invited both teams to the Kingdom's restaurant for dinner. The long day had left them all tired and hungry, but beneath the fatigue, excitement buzzed—because everyone knew something had shifted.
The girl no one expected had just outshone them all.