"Eden!" Cynthia exclaimed the moment she entered the room at the Navy Headquarters where Davin had left her daughter.
Eden froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Her heart leaped, and in an instant, she was on her feet, turning toward the door. There, standing with a rush of warmth and relief, did her godmother, Paula, accompany her mother—Cynthia—. Behind them stood Davin.
"Mom!" Eden gasped, disbelief and joy spilling into her voice.
"Eden," Cynthia whispered as she rushed forward, wrapping her daughter tightly in her arms. "If Commander hadn't come to find us, I wouldn't have known you were here. How are you, sweetheart? Are you all right?"
"I'll give you some time," Davin said quietly from behind them. "You have fifteen minutes."
"Thank you, Commander," Paula replied warmly. Davin gave a small nod, then closed the door, leaving the three women in the privacy of the room.
For a long moment, Cynthia just held her daughter, as if she were afraid to let go. When she finally stepped back, her eyes searched Eden's face anxiously.
"What really happened, Eden? Where's your grandmother? And Commander said you'll be leaving soon—are you going to Valenor?"
Eden hesitated. She could tell that Davin hadn't told them everything—and maybe that was for the best. If her mother knew about the attack on the island, she would only worry more.
"I have a few things to prepare before I go," Eden said softly. "Grandmother went back to Valenor ahead of me. She'll return to fetch me when everything's ready."
Cynthia's brows knitted in concern. "Do you really have to do this? Eden, you don't have to go through with it just because you feel pressured. You can still walk away."
"You can renounce your claim to the throne," Paula added. "This should be your time to live freely, not carry the weight of a crown."
"I'm not even sure I understand everything yet," Eden admitted, lowering her gaze.
Paula sighed. "Being a ruler isn't just a title, Eden. It's a lifetime of responsibility—and not everyone will stand by you. You'll lose your freedom, your privacy, maybe even your happiness."
Eden gave a faint, brave smile. "I'll think about it carefully, I promise. I still have time to decide. Please don't worry."
Paula shook her head affectionately. "There you go again, acting so strong." She smiled and reached out to touch Eden's arm. "But if that's your decision… then what can we do? We'll support you."
The three of them turned at the sound of a knock. A moment later, the door opened—and there stood Davin. He was no longer in his navy uniform but dressed in a simple white shirt and dark pants.
Even in plain clothes, his presence carried the same quiet authority. There was something about him—an unspoken confidence, a calm strength—that filled the room.
"Is our time up already, Commander?" Cynthia asked gently.
"I'm afraid so, Ms. Anderson," Davin replied.
"You don't need to apologize," Cynthia said with a faint smile. "Thank you for giving me this moment with my daughter."
She turned back to Eden, holding her hands tightly. "Be careful, okay? If you need me—no matter where you are—call me. I'll come for you, no matter what." Her voice trembled, and tears welled in her eyes as she reached up to cup her daughter's cheek.
Eden smiled, though her heart ached. She didn't trust herself to speak—because if she did, she might not stop crying. Cynthia pulled her into another embrace, joined by Paula.
For so long, Eden had been used to being alone—hiding her true identity, living far away from her mother. She had learned to live with it. But now, with her mother's arms around her again, the thought of parting once more made her chest tighten painfully.
When they finally let go, Cynthia turned to Davin, her eyes steady though still glistening with tears.
"Lieutenant Commander," she said firmly, "I'm entrusting my daughter to you. Please… take care of her."
Davin gave a respectful nod, his expression calm but resolute. "I will, ma'am. You have my word."
When Cynthia and Paula finally left the room, Davin turned toward the young woman who remained behind.
Eden sat still, her hands clenched on her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor. He could tell she was holding back her tears—fighting them the same way she had fought everything else that night.
"Are you okay?" Davin asked gently.
"I'm not," she whispered, sinking back into her chair.
The moment she sat down, the tears she'd been holding in finally broke free. She didn't want her mother to see her cry—she never had. Ever since she was a child, she had learned to hide her tears to spare her mother's heart from worry. Not when she left the country. Not when she lived alone. But now… she couldn't stop. Her chest tightened painfully as she let the sobs escape.
"Here."
Davin stepped closer and handed her a neatly folded handkerchief, placing it softly in her trembling hand. Eden looked up at him, a little startled, then down at the handkerchief—as if silently understanding what he was telling her: Wipe your tears.
"I'll be outside," he said quietly. "Call me when you're ready to leave."
Then he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Outside, Davin stopped by the door and stood still for a while, his back resting against the wall. Through the thin barrier, he could hear her crying. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling an unfamiliar ache in his chest.
She had grown up apart from her mother—living quietly, hiding her true self. And now, once again, she was being forced to leave the only family she had, stepping into a life of uncertainty and danger.
For almost half an hour, Davin stayed there, silent and unmoving, ignoring the curious glances from passing naval officers who wondered why their commander was standing alone in the corridor.
Finally, the sound of a soft knock broke the stillness. Davin straightened, took a breath, and turned to open the door.
Eden stood there, composed but fragile. She was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses—an attempt to hide her swollen, tear-stained eyes.
"Are you ready to leave?" Davin asked quietly.
Eden nodded. Her voice was steady when she finally answered, but the pain still lingered behind her calm.
"Are you ready to leave?" Davin asked quietly.
Eden simply nodded. Her voice refused to come out, so she gave him a faint, almost invisible smile instead.
"Let's go then."
He led the way down the corridor. The echo of their footsteps filled the silence between them. Every few steps, Davin would glance sideways—checking if she was keeping up. She walked a little slower than usual, her posture straight but her shoulders slightly trembling.
Outside, the sun had just begun to rise. The sky was streaked with pale gold, and the wind from the harbor carried the scent of salt and metal. A black military SUV was already waiting for them at the tarmac, parked beside a small transport helicopter.
"This way," Davin said as he opened the car door for her.
Eden paused before stepping in, taking one last glance at the vast navy compound—the ships lined up by the docks, the rows of soldiers starting their day, the building where she'd last seen her mother. Everything about this place felt heavy and unfamiliar, yet she knew it would be harder to look back if she hesitated any longer.
She took a quiet breath and got inside. Davin followed, settling into the driver's seat. The vehicle started to move, and the base slowly faded behind them.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke. The hum of the engine filled the silence. Davin focused on the road, but his peripheral vision caught every slight movement from her—the way her hands tightened over the handkerchief he'd given her, the way she turned her face toward the window, hiding what remained of her sadness.
"Are you comfortable?" he finally asked.
"I'll be fine," she replied softly. "Just… trying to process everything."
He gave a small nod. "You don't have to rush it."
She looked at him then, and for the first time since that night, she saw him not as a soldier or rescuer—but as someone who quietly understood what it meant to lose everything familiar.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"For what?" he asked without looking at her.
"For… staying."
Davin didn't answer. He just tightened his grip on the steering wheel, eyes fixed ahead. But the corner of his mouth twitched—just slightly.
When they reached the edge of the base, a navy officer opened the gate and saluted. Davin nodded back, then drove past. Beyond the gate, the open road stretched before them—long, quiet, and uncertain.
For Eden, it was the road to a new life she hadn't chosen.
For Davin, it was the beginning of a promise he never thought he'd have to keep.