Davina’s POV
Chapter 9
The butler barely spared Cleo a glance when she gasped aloud, his eyes flicking toward her with thinly veiled contempt at her dramatics. Then he turned to me with quiet respect.
“My lady,” he said evenly, “we ask that you undergo a royal DNA test to verify your identity.”
While we waited for the results, I found myself drifting through memories–again and again, combing through the fragments of my past.
I couldn’t recall a single moment with my parents from when I was young. As far back as my memory reached, I had lived in the orphanage, raised under Grandpa’s watchful care. Then, out of nowhere, when I turned eight, my parents showed up and took me home. But even then… I never looked much like them.
When the test results were finally revealed, Cleo looked like she wanted to burn a hole. through me with her stare.
Daxon, on the other hand, looked like someone had taken the light out of his eyes.
He hesitated, as if about to reach for me, but thought better of it and let his hand fall back
to his side.
“Davina, I have to get back to training,” he murmured. “I… I wish you happiness.”
I watched him walk away, puzzled by the ache in his voice. His eyes had that raw, devastated look–like someone deeply, hopelessly in love.
But Cleo didn’t follow after him.
“Daxon,” she said sweetly, “I still think she loves you. I’ll wait here. Once she comes around, I’ll take her home.”
I looked at her without saying a word. Her intentions were written all over her face.
That evening, Grandpa hosted a lavish party at the castle to celebrate the confirmation of my identity.
I wore the former queen’s jewelry, paired with a custom Chanel gown from the latest.
season.
When I stepped out before the crowd, I could feel the shift in the room–the stunned gazes, the hush of awe. Especially from Humphrey.
He stood across the hall, tall and striking, a glass of champagne in hand, watching me descend the grand spiral staircase.
The butler’s eyes welled up when he saw me.
“Your Royal Highness, you look just like the Queen,” he whispered, his voice thick with
emotion.
I smiled gently. “Thank you. On my mother’s behalf.”
Across the room, I saw Daxon throwing back glass after glass of whiskey. ‘Isn’t he a professional athlete? Since when did he drink like that?‘
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Cleo drank too, but her expression stayed eerily composed. She sat off to the side, watching me talk to Humphrey, her gaze unreadable, dark. Like she was waiting. Calculating.
Toward the end of the night, she approached me with a smile that was just a little too bright and a glass of champagne in hand.
“Princess Davina, cheers! Tonight’s your big moment, after all.”
I glanced at the glass and smiled politely. “You have it. I’m not drinking.”
“Oh, come on–it’s just a sip. Just for the gesture.”
She downed it herself without hesitation, then casually handed me a glass of orange juice.
“Here then–at least drink this. You’re not gonna turn down orange juice, are you?”
I took it, gave it a cautious sniff. No strange smell. Cleo kept smiling that wide, dazzling. smile.
In the end, I drank it.
What happened after felt like slipping into a fog.
My head spun. Heat rushed through my body. The world warped and blurred–hallways. stretched, lights flickered, doors opened into shadows. I tried to call out, but my voice was barely a whisper.
Someone caught me. Helped me lie down. I felt a breath against my cheek, warm and
familiar.
“Davina…
It was Daxon’s voice.
But I couldn’t tell if it was really him–or just a memory from years ago, surfacing in a haze.
Later, morning sunlight filtered through the curtains.
I woke with a pounding head, pushed myself up–and froze. The sheets beneath me were cold and damp.
Lying beside me… was a man. Naked. Asleep.
I turned to look.
And when I saw his face, my blood ran cold.
It was–Daxon!
Before I could even process it, the door slammed open.
Cleo strode in, wearing one of Humphrey’s dress shirts from the night before. Her hair was tousled, but her face was radiant with smug satisfaction.
She gasped, covering her mouth in faux surprise.
“Davina! I knew you still had feelings for Daxon! This is wonderful!”
“Davina, is this real?” Daxon murmured groggily, waking up to her voice. “It’s not a dream, is it? You’re really back?”
I sat there, head still reeling, shoving him off of me as I tried to clear the fog from my mind.
11:10 Tue, 20 May
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him–Humphrey–standing at the doorway, his face a mask of stone, his expression colder than I’d ever seen.
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