When the others had left the room, Davin turned back toward the girl slumped in the corner. Her arm was still bleeding, the crimson stain spreading down to her wrist. She must have passed out from the pain.
He scanned the room and spotted a small medicine cabinet by the wall.
"Of all the royals," he muttered under his breath, "you're the one who attracts the most chaos. Not even known to the world yet, and already collecting scars. What happens when the whole world finally recognizes you?"
He retrieved the first-aid kit and knelt beside her. Carefully, he removed his coat from her shoulders and began cleaning the wound.
"Aw!" Eden jerked awake the moment the alcohol touched her skin. "That hurts!"
Davin froze, startled, their eyes meeting. For a moment, neither spoke.
"You're overreacting," he said finally, trying to mask the relief that she was conscious. "It's just a small wound."
"Small wound? You have a heavy hand, Commander," she muttered, glaring at him.
"You wouldn't have it if you didn't—"
"I know. It's my fault. You don't have to repeat it," she cut in, rolling her eyes.
Davin sighed, pressing the cotton gently against the cut. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"What?" she asked with a teasing lilt, pretending not to have heard. "Did you say something? I didn't catch that."
She knew men like him — proud, disciplined, the kind who rarely said anything soft. And yet, here he was, tending her wound like it was something fragile.
"I have a policy not to repeat myself," Davin replied dryly. "Maybe next time, Your Highness, try unclogging your ears so you can hear people properly."
Eden couldn't help but smile — the faintest hint of amusement tugging at her lips. "Noted, Commander."
"Aw!" Eden flinched again, glaring at him. "Are you purposely pressing the cotton into my wound?" she snapped, pulling her arm away.
Davin looked up, studying her face. She wasn't pretending — she was really in pain. Maybe his hand was too heavy.
Without a word, he stood and leaned closer. The sudden movement caught her off guard, and their eyes met once more. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Her heart raced wildly, butterflies stirring in her stomach.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered, instinctively placing her free hand between them.
He didn't answer. Instead, he gently took her injured arm. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine — a strange, electric feeling that made her chest tighten.
Before she could protest, Davin lowered his head slightly and blew softly against the wound after dabbing it with antiseptic. The sting faded under the cool air, but Eden froze — completely caught off guard by the tenderness of the act. Her breath hitched; her cheeks grew warm. She didn't dare move.
Each time her gaze met his, she could feel her heart pounding harder.
"Done," Davin said quietly, securing the bandage around her arm.
Eden blinked, as if waking from a trance. "T-thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
"You should take better care of yourself," he said as he packed the medical supplies back into the box. "You're not just an ordinary woman, you know."
His words lingered in her mind, echoing longer than she wanted them to. If I were just an ordinary woman… would he still look at me like this? Would he even notice me at all?
"What's wrong?" Davin's voice cut into her thoughts.
"Nothing," she said quickly, standing up.
As she did, his coat slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor. She bent down to pick it up, but Davin was faster. Their hands brushed — just for a second — enough to send another rush of warmth through her chest.
He met her eyes briefly, then turned away, folding the coat neatly over his arm.
And though neither said a word, the silence between them said more than either dared to admit.
"Wear this for now," Davin said, draping his coat over her shoulders. "Let's go. I'll take you home."
"My mother—how is she?" Eden asked, her voice soft but anxious.
"I already sent them home. They're waiting for you," he replied.
"She's probably worried sick."
"That's why you shouldn't do things that make the people who love you worry," he said, his tone calm but firm as he walked toward the door.
"Yeah, I know," she murmured, following close behind.
They were just about to step out when several men in black suits and dark glasses entered the room, surrounding them in a tight formation. Instinctively, Davin pulled Eden close to shield her. Startled, her hand gripped his arm for support.
The men didn't attack; they simply stood there, silent and imposing. Both Davin and Eden turned toward the door as a woman stepped in — elegant, composed, holding a tablet in one hand. More suited men stood behind her in perfect alignment.
"Lieutenant Commander Bryant?" the woman asked, her tone sharp but respectful.
"Yes," Davin replied, eyes narrowed. "And who are you?"
"I'm Donna — Her Majesty the Queen's personal secretary. I'm here to escort you and Her Highness to meet the Queen."
"Queen?" Eden echoed, glancing up at Davin.
"She's referring to your grandmother," he answered quietly.
"Follow me, please. The Queen's helicopter is waiting on the rooftop," Donna said, stepping aside to let them pass.
"It's all right," Davin murmured to Eden, gently tapping the hand that still clutched his arm — a silent reassurance.
He walked first, and she followed close behind. Donna and the suited guards fell in line around them as they ascended to the roof deck of the Empire Mall. The sound of the helicopter's blades grew louder with every step. Around the aircraft, more guards formed a perimeter, facing outward with military precision.
Waiting beside the helicopter stood General Andrew Bryant — Davin's father.
"Sir," Davin greeted with a salute, his posture straight and formal.
Eden looked at him, slightly startled by the sudden change in his demeanor.
"Princess Eden," the older man said, his tone deep and commanding. "I am General Andrew Bryant. I'll be escorting you from here." His sharp eyes flicked over her gown — torn and stained with blood — and the coat hanging loosely on her shoulders.
"I assume there's a good explanation for her condition," he said, glancing at his son.
Eden immediately spoke up. "It wasn't the Commander's fault. I was reckless — but I'm fine. He actually helped me."
Andrew's expression softened slightly. "We'll discuss it later. For now, let's go." He extended a hand toward the helicopter. "This way, Your Highness."
Eden nodded and climbed aboard, followed by the General and Davin. Donna and a few of the guards joined them inside.
As the helicopter lifted off, the city lights spread beneath them like glittering stars. Eden glanced back at Davin, who sat silently behind her — expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Her chest tightened with guilt. He's been quiet ever since the General's comment… Did I cause him trouble again?