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The heavy oak doors of the study clicked shut. Robert stood by the window, his back to Charles, staring out at the manicured royal gardens. The silence between them stretched thin, like a wire about to snap.
"Can you tell me already? I'm too old for this suspense," Prince Robert said, his voice weary.
"Now I understand why you never remarried after she left..." Doctor Charles started, but Robert's eyes flashed with a cold, sudden fire.
"Is this why you've come? To dig up the past?" Robert's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and longing. "I thought I made it clear—no one speaks her name. I am old, Charles. I just want to rest. You are being cruel."
"I am not a cruel man, Robert. I am a doctor," Charles replied, stepping closer and placing a clinical folder on the desk. "And as a doctor, I don't believe in ghosts. But I do believe in genetics."
Robert turned, his eyes narrowing. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I saw a girl today. Nineteen years old. She's staying in the villa Rubby's boss bought," Charles said, his voice dropping to a low, urgent tone. "At first, it was the way she carried herself—that same regal stubbornness your wife had. But then she smiled, Robert. She has the same dimples. The exact same way her eyes crinkle at the corners."
"Resemblance is a trick of the mind," Robert snapped, though his hand gripped the windowsill until his knuckles turned white. "You see what you want to see because you know I'm a broken man."
He turned toward the stairs, but his mind drifted back twenty years. He could still hear Addah's voice, soft and urgent. If he had wanted to end his life, Robert could have done so many years ago, but he had kept the sacred promise he made to her.
"Darling, promise me that you will always be happy, and you will always protect us," Addah had said that final night.
"Wifey, you are the best wife in the whole world. I will always protect you and our future unborn babies," he had replied. This ruthless second prince was always gentle and soft with his wife—a tone that would be unimaginable to the outside world.
"Okay, darling, remember your promises. If you break them, even if I die, I will never forgive you. Remember to stay happy and strong, and protect my place in your heart and mind. That's all I ask of you."
He didn't know that would be the last time they would ever be together as husband and wife. Why hadn't anyone warned him? Why hadn't he realized the strange, heavy awkwardness in her tone that night? Why had she been so heartless? She must have known she was going to die, yet she didn't tell him. Why did she leave him behind? He vividly recalled when the news broke that his wife had been in an accident and died on the spot. He couldn't believe it then, and it remained a cruel reality that was still difficult to accept.
"Old friend... are you sure you don't want to know about your baby girl?" Doctor Charles asked quietly.
Prince Robert stopped dead in his tracks. His left foot, which was about to step onto the stairs, was left hanging in the air. His back stiffened. He turned around with a tight, hollow smile—a smile that held no joy, only years of bitter disbelief.
"Haha, Doctor Charles, my old friend," Robert mocked softly. "Don't forget that I am a doctor too. Do you need me to help you with your mental check-ups?"
"Robert Qin, do I look like I'm joking with you?!" Doctor Charles was thoroughly pissed off. "You gave birth to a daughter! And she is currently pregnant with your two grandchildren!"
"I know I am old, and I don't need you playing these sick games," Robert rasped.
"It's more than a feeling, Robert," Charles countered, slamming the folder open to reveal a photo of Jessy. "Look at her eyes. Look at the limbal ring, the specific shade of violet-gray. That is the legendary Qin Genetic Marker. It hasn't appeared in this family for two generations. Not since your mother, the Empress."
Robert's breath hitched. He walked toward the desk as if the photo were a dangerous, wild animal. He stared at Jessy's face—the high cheekbones, the fierce but profoundly lonely look in her eyes. It was like looking into a mirror of his own soul, beautifully blended with the woman he had lost.
The outsiders didn't know about this, but the royal household did. Their Empress, Robert's mother, had a rare, genetic eye trait. Because no one in Robert's generation or the younger generation had inherited those violet-gray eyes, they believed the trait had been lost forever. Who would have thought that he—a man who believed he was childless—had a daughter carrying his mother's exact eyes?
"She's nineteen?" Robert whispered, his hands trembling violently. "But Addah disappeared twenty years ago. The timeline doesn't fit the accident report..."
"It fits the truth we were never told," Charles finished for him. "She survived longer than they said. Or someone hid her. Robert, this girl—Jessy Williams—is a massive business tycoon, but she told me herself that she is an orphan. She believes she was born out of a tragedy. She has absolutely no idea who she really is."
Robert's knees finally gave out, and he sank heavily into his leather chair. "A daughter... I have a daughter?"
"And grandchildren," Charles added gently. "She's carrying identical twins. If you want to know for sure, I already have a hair sample. But look at that photo and tell me your heart doesn't already know the answer."
"Where is she?" Robert asked, his voice weak and breaking. When did I have a daughter? Does this mean Addah didn't die twenty years ago? Is she still alive somewhere? Did she lose her memories? Yes... that must be it. She must have suffered from amnesia, which is why she never came back to find me. He could only comfort his aching heart by clinging to this possibility.
"Easy, Robert," Charles cautioned. "You'll scare her if you charge in there like a madman. Verify it with a DNA test first. Then go find her. She's staying in a mansion she prepared for herself. And as it turns out, she is actually the big boss to your niece and nephew, Rubby and Ethan. It was Ethan who called me to conduct her check-up today."
"I understand..." Robert breathed.
"Okay, I will be waiting for your good news, brother. I'm going to pay a brief visit to the King," Charles said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping out.
Left alone, Prince Robert was utterly lost in his thoughts. He didn't dare to be happy, and he didn't dare to be sad; he was terrified of what the final results might show. Restless, he called for his trusted butler and gave him immediate instructions.
"Master Robert, please stay positive. I truly believe that things are going to be fine this time," the butler said softly.
"I hope so, Zhino," Robert whispered.
In the hallways, the estate's maids were silently praying for him. They desperately wanted to share in his happiness. Over the years, they had witnessed him break down completely; they had seen him pass through the agonizing pain of false hope. The love he held for his late wife was something none of them had ever witnessed before. Many ladies from royal houses and wealthy families had come from all around the world wishing to be his new wife, but he had coldly pushed them all away. No visiting woman could ever stand a single night in his palace, and whatever he did to repel them, none of them ever dared to speak a word of it afterward. He was a good man, but a ruthlessly fiercely loyal one.
"I hope and pray that our master finally finds his daughter," one of the maids whispered.
"I can barely believe it," another replied. "Master has never been with any woman apart from his wife, and none of us ever knew what she looked like except for him. His wife was Queen Sarah's best friend, but even the Queen didn't know her real appearance. Master's wife was a perfect woman with an honest heart, loved and cherished by everyone. Court matters were beautifully handled by the Empress and the Queen all because of her—she was an absolute genius."
"Is this the reason why Master decided to live like a recluse all his life?"
"I know that's the reason. His love for her was completely real. They say that even to this day, the legal books she wrote are still being used in the royal courts."
"I just want Master to be happy," a third maid added. "I hope he finds his daughter, and I pray the young miss turns out to be a good person."
Meanwhile, Jessy had no idea about the storm brewing across town. She was sleeping deeply in her new home, exhausted by the flight and the new environment. Her maids didn't dare disturb her rest, so they waited silently outside her doors for her to wake up.
Inside her dream, the nightmare returned.
"Mother... Mother! Don't go!"
She was just a young girl again, trying to sketch a landscape, when suddenly a woman covered in blood appeared before her. The woman was weeping bitterly, begging her to grow up well and become strong. Jessy couldn't see the woman's face through the haze, but the voice belonged unmistakably to her mother.
The bloody image began to disappear bit by bit. The faster Jessy tried to run toward her, the further the image drifted away, leaving Jessy chasing a ghost in the dark.
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