"Commander!" Eden exclaimed, quickly rising from the couch as Davin entered the room. He had left her earlier to rest, but sleeping was impossible. Her thoughts were a storm — flashes of fire, gunshots, and fear that refused to fade.
Davin paused by the door, surprised. "You're awake. I thought you'd be sleeping."
"I can't. I've been waiting for you. I need to know what happened," she said, her tone sharp but trembling.
He sighed and set down the glass of milk he brought for her. "You've had enough for tonight. Try to rest."
"Rest?" she snapped. "After what just happened? I almost died, Commander! I think I deserve to know the truth."
Davin studied her for a moment, then nodded. "All right. You already know you're the next heir to Valenor's throne. That truth puts you in danger. Someone out there knows who you are—and they will do everything they can to stop you from ever returning to Valenor."
"What about my grandmother? Is she safe?"
"She is," Davin assured her. "She's in Valenor now. But she can't come back yet; things are unstable. She's doing everything she can to make sure you're protected."
He straightened. "We'll move you to a safe house soon. From now on, no public appearances, no interviews, and no modeling. You can't risk being seen."
"And my mother? Aunt Paula?" she asked, worry flickering in her eyes.
"I'm afraid not. They're too connected to the media. For now, contact with them is impossible."
"That's not fair," Eden murmured, sinking back onto the couch. "I never asked to be a princess. I was fine just being… me."
Davin placed a small box on the table. "Maybe this will help you understand."
Eden's breath caught. It was the box containing her father's letters.
"And this," Davin added, placing a USB beside it. "It's from your brothers — Prince Alaric and Prince Rowan."
"You have two hours to rest," he said firmly. "Be ready by then."
"Where are we going?"
"To a safe house. You'll be staying with me and my family for the time being. They know who you are, and they can protect you."
"Is that safe for them?" she asked softly. "If those people find out who I am, they could be in danger."
"You don't need to worry about that," Davin replied, a faint smile crossing his lips. "My father's a retired general. My mother and sister look fragile—but don't be fooled. They're stronger than they appear."
"Just like me, then?" she teased.
"Don't let it get to your head," he said, smirking.
She exhaled a laugh, and for the first time that night, her face softened.
"So you can smile," Davin remarked, tilting his head.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she frowned.
"Only that you never do when I'm around."
"That's because you're infuriating! You treat me like I'm ordinary—"
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No," she admitted. "It's… refreshing. I don't like being treated as a princess. I want people to see me for who I am."
Davin's eyes glimmered faintly. "Then I suppose I can drop the title."
"Please do. I told you not to call me 'Princess.'"
"All right then… Claire."
She blinked. "Claire?" The name felt strangely familiar — almost intimate. "Why that name?"
"Because starting tomorrow, we'll be living under new identities. You'll be Claire Bryant."
"Bryant?" she repeated, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Davin met her gaze, his voice calm but heavy. "Yes. My wife."
"Your what?!" she blurted, eyes widening.
He gave a half-smile — the kind that wasn't really amusement but acceptance of something he couldn't change. "Orders from above. It's the only way to conceal your identity. No one would question a soldier traveling with his wife."
"But—"
"I'll explain everything later." He turned to leave, his jaw tight. "Get some rest, Eden. We leave at dawn."
As the door closed, Eden stared after him, her heart pounding. His wife?
The word echoed in her mind like a secret she wasn't ready to carry.
The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, Davin simply stood in the hallway, his hand still resting on the knob.
The word wife echoed in his head like a weight he hadn't asked to carry.
He exhaled slowly, pressing his palm to the back of his neck. What on earth am I doing?
He'd taken countless missions — rescues, infiltrations, high-risk extractions — but none of them prepared him for this. Playing the part of a husband was nowhere in his operational handbook.
He started down the corridor toward the command office where the Admiral and the Ambassador awaited. The conversation from earlier still burned fresh in his mind.
"To conceal her identity," the Ambassador had said calmly, "we'll register them as a married couple. A soldier and his wife. It's the perfect cover."
Davin's jaw had tightened. "With respect, sir — that's unnecessary. I can protect her without involving—"
"Commander," the Admiral had cut in, "this isn't a request. It's a directive. You know how delicate the situation is. The enemy's eyes are everywhere. A bodyguard draws suspicion — but a husband? No one questions that."
"And she doesn't have to know the full extent of it," the Ambassador had added. "Just keep her safe. Play your role. Until Valenor stabilizes."
Davin had saluted then — because that's what soldiers did. They obeyed. But now, walking alone down the dim corridor, the uniform on his shoulders suddenly felt heavier than usual.
He wasn't afraid of danger; he'd faced that all his life. What unsettled him was proximity — the thought of sharing a roof, a name, even brief moments of quiet with someone like her.
Eden wasn't like the people he usually protected. She wasn't trained for war, but she had fire in her — a kind of quiet strength that drew him in more than he cared to admit. And that made her dangerous in a different way.
He stopped in front of a wide window overlooking the base. Beyond it, the ocean stretched endlessly, dark and calm — just like how he wished his mind could be.
"This isn't about you," he muttered to himself. "You're a soldier. Do your job."
Still, he couldn't shake the image of her — wide-eyed, clutching that little box like her whole world depended on it. The fear, the stubbornness, the way her voice trembled when she said she didn't want to be a princess.
For a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "A princess pretending to be my wife. What could possibly go wrong?"
He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to refocus.
No emotions. No attachments. Protect the princess — his wife, at least on paper — and end this mission. That was the plan.
But deep down, Davin already knew: this assignment would be nothing like the others.