Auntie Naomi shook her head with a smile and walked out. Ramsey: " His expression darkened as he quickened his pace.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen.
"I already told you I’d handle this," Camilla said with a light laugh, taking the ingredients back from Sinclair’s hands.
"Just stand here and keep me company—no helping," she added, resuming her work on the half-prepared ingredients.
"This is a nourishing soup I just learned from Sonia.
It’s supposed to help replenish your energy."
"Nourishing?"
Sinclair stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Camilla’s waist from behind and resting his chin lightly on her shoulder.
His voice was deep and husky, laced with playful suggestions.
"What, Camilla, do you think I’m not in good enough shape?"
At his words, Camilla suddenly recalled certain past moments, and her fair cheeks instantly flushed with warmth.
"Sweetheart!"
Sinclair smirked but said nothing more.
After dinner, the couple didn’t immediately return to their room.
Camilla nestled in Sinclair’s arms, her eyes lightly closed as she spoke in a gentle voice.
"Sweetheart, what did Nolan Junior tell you?"
She had sensed his emotional turmoil the moment he returned earlier.
Only to avoid disrupting his meal had she waited until now to ask.
Sinclair’s hand, which had been softly stroking her back, paused briefly before resuming its soothing motion.
"Sweetheart," Camilla murmured against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, her crimson lips curving slightly.
"No matter what it is, tell me, okay?"
"Alright," Sinclair replied, continuing to gently caress her back, though his dark eyes churned with unfathomable depths.
Slowly, he began recounting everything he had learned from Nolan.
This concerned Camilla’s origins—she had every right to know.
As Sinclair spoke, Camilla remained still, but her long, thick lashes trembled faintly as she struggled to process the revelation.
Could she truly be the granddaughter of the Queen of E—the daughter of the former crown prince?
How could this be?
Her mind reeled in shock as she struggled to think rationally through the chaos.
If everything was true... what role had her grandfather played in all this?
"Camilla." Sinclair gently enveloped Camilla’s tightly clenched hand in his own palms.
His deep, magnetic voice softened to its most tender tone.
"No matter what, you’re still yourself—my wife, Sinclair’s wife."
His thumb traced comforting circles on her knuckles.
"You decide what you want to do or not do.
No one can force you."
No one.
Absolutely no one.
You will always be your own person.
Forever my wife, Sinclair’s wife.
No one can force you to do anything—whether you want to or not.
Sinclair’s calm, steady voice gradually soothed Camilla’s restless heart.
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She would always be herself.
This life was one she had fought hard to reclaim, and she would live it exactly as she pleased.
"Sweetheart, thank you."
Camilla buried her face against the crook of his neck for a long moment before finally lifting her gaze to meet his.
"I know what to do now."
Without hesitation, she reached up and plucked several strands of hair from her own head.
Her clear, bright eyes held no trace of hesitation—only quiet resolve.
"Everything else can wait.
Right now, this is what matters."
Sinclair’s brow furrowed instinctively as he watched her pull the strands free by their roots.
"There are other ways."
Slender, pale fingers gently tousled her hair.
Ramsey had worked through the night, sending Camilla’s and Princess Kiara’s hair samples for DNA testing.
Though they weren’t biological sisters, their genes shared a certain degree of overlap.
This alone was enough to confirm Camilla’s identity.
The night stretched long, and many found themselves sleepless as unexpected turmoil swept through Country E.
When Sinclair and Camilla descended the stairs, they spotted Ramsey waiting below.
"Mr. Luther, Madam—"
The dark circles under his eyes betrayed his sleepless night.
"You’ve worked hard," Camilla said softly, offering him a warm smile.
"I’ll have Sonia prepare some nourishing meals for you too—you could use it to gain energy."
At the mention of Sonia, Ramsey’s expression twisted into helpless resignation.
"Thank you, Madam, but that won’t be necessary."
His own father had already called to interrogate him.
If Sonia started cooking for him, who knew what rumors would spread next?
Sinclair took Camilla’s hand and led her to the dining table, where they settled in.
The dining table was set with breakfast specially prepared by Sonia—similar to their usual fare, but with a few extra fresh and appetizing vegetable dishes.
Sinclair handed her a cup of warm milk before meticulously arranging the food in front of her with deliberate care.
Camilla obediently played along, quietly eating the breakfast before her.
Even if she had no appetite, she had to think of the baby growing inside her.
Ramsey, observing the calm demeanor of the two, gradually settled his own nerves and stood silently to the side, waiting.
Only after breakfast did Camilla finally turn her gaze to Ramsey.
"The results are out?"
Sinclair also glanced over with an indifferent expression.
Ramsey understood—the CEO must have already told his wife everything.
Ramsey nodded directly.
"Yes, they’re out."
After a brief glance at Camilla, his expression instantly turned solemn.
"Madam, you and Princess Allen... are indeed blood-related."
Sinclair’s dark, fathomless eyes remained as still as a deep pool, showing not the slightest ripple.
Camilla pressed her lips together.
A fleeting trace of complexity crossed her coldly beautiful face before she composed herself once more.
"I see."
"Got it?
" Ramsey looked at Camilla’s composed demeanor, a flicker of astonishment crossing his face.
Even as an outsider hearing this news, he couldn’t remain so unruffled.
The lady and President Luther truly are two peas in a pod—when he sings, she follows.
Amid the heavy silence, Sinclair spoke in his usual detached tone.
"Has Nolan been informed?" Ramsey nodded.
"Following your instructions, we notified Mr. Nolan immediately after the results came out."
Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly.
"In that case, it’s time to set the rest of the plan in motion."
Understanding his boss’s implication, Ramsey nodded again.
"Understood. I’ll handle it right away."
Ramsey turned to leave but hesitated, then stopped in his tracks.
Steeling himself, he added, "President Luther, Madam... given the magnitude of this matter, I’m afraid keeping it from grandpa Luther won’t be possible."
After all, Grandpa Luther called him daily for updates on Madam’s condition, pressuring him to urge the couple’s return to San Francisco.
Sinclair cast a cool glance at Ramsey.
"Who told you I was planning to keep this from him?"
No need to hide it?
Perfect!
Ramsey visibly relaxed at those words.
"Understood!"
Ramsey strode out briskly.
"Sinclair, what exactly is this arrangement you mentioned?"