CHAPTER 28: TELLING THE QUEEN ABOUT CAMILLA’S IDENTITY

"I don’t deal in hypotheticals," Luna remained poised and composed, her voice steady.

"Let’s wait for the results before jumping to conclusions."

Harvey choked back his words, falling silent.

Camilla calmly lifted her coffee cup, taking a slow sip.

Her lowered lashes veiled the icy glint in her eyes.

*Some people just refuse to face reality until it’s staring them in the face.*

"I’ve heard that not only is Ms. Rodriguez exceptionally skilled in medicine, but she also shares a rather... *harmonious* relationship with her husband," Luna suddenly turned her gaze to Camilla, a faint smile playing on her lips, her tone deceptively gentle.

"To achieve both career success and marital bliss at such a young age—truly, you could call yourself a winner in life."

To anyone else, the remark might have sounded innocuous.

But Camilla caught it—the subtle emphasis Luna placed on the word *"husband."*

*Is she hinting that Sinclair might be in Aiston’s hands?*

Setting down her coffee cup, Camilla met Luna’s inscrutable gaze head-on, her own lips curving into a cool smile.

"Winner in life?

I wouldn’t go that far.

But my medical skills and my husband *are* my greatest points of pride."

Luna stared fixedly at Camilla, unable to determine whether the woman had truly grasped the underlying meaning of her words.

Kiara’s eyes flashed with jealousy.

She wanted to mock Camilla but found no opening, so she could only sulkily sip her coffee.

Queen Elizabeth, however, seemed genuinely interested in Camilla. Her expression softened as she regarded the young woman.

"Besides your husband, do you have any other family?"

Though the chances were slim, she still wanted to learn more about this girl.

Luna averted her gaze, lowering her eyes to the tea set before her.

Her expression remained unreadable, but the veins on her hand, gripping the teacup, stood out starkly. Come to think of it...

It had been years since she’d felt this cornered and tense.

A single oversight—that was all it took.

"I have a grandfather.

As for my parents..."

Camilla smiled and spoke candidly about her family situation, weaving in the details her grandfather had shared with her.

Her grandfather wasn’t her biological relative. Her parents had died in a car accident.

And she had come to Country E in search of her roots.

The resemblance was uncanny.

Queen Elizabeth listened intently, her posture gradually straightening as the conversation unfolded.

*How could this be such a coincidence?*

Without hesitation, she pressed further, questioning Camilla about her age and family background.

Camilla held nothing back.

Harvey, clearly sensing the queen’s train of thought, studied Camilla with a mix of astonishment and scrutiny.

The longer he looked, the more he noticed—her delicate features bore a faint but undeniable resemblance to the queen’s.

Yet, where the queen’s beauty was distinctly Western, Mrs. Luther carried an air of Eastern elegance.

Luna’s hands grew cold.

She knew. Her mother, sharp as ever, was already questioning Camilla’s origins.

*That little wretch is doing this on purpose!*

By the time Queen Elizabeth had gathered all the information she sought, her emotions were visibly heightened.

"Tell me," she asked, her voice trembling slightly, "do you know anything about your father’s family?

Their status?"

Camilla shook her head.

"Grandfather said Father never spoke much about his past," she replied softly.

"Perhaps his memories hadn’t fully returned."

A direct admission would only backfire and arouse suspicion.

Queen Elizabeth gripped the armrests of her chair, her frail hands trembling with tension, veins bulging beneath her paper-thin skin.

"Tell me," she demanded, her voice betraying a barely perceptible quiver, "did your father ever mention the name he went by in Country E?"

Kiara frowned. Why was her grandmother so fixated on this woman?

Luna’s sharp gaze locked onto Camilla, her fingers tightening around her glass until her knuckles turned white.

She knew—if Camilla uttered that name, it would be tantamount to revealing her true identity.

What now?

Even someone as quick-witted as her found herself at a loss, her thoughts tangled in frantic knots.

The air grew thick, the tension almost suffocating.

Under the weight of everyone’s stares, Camilla finally spoke.

"No," Camilla shook her head.

"Or perhaps Grandfather never told me."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Queen Elizabeth’s eyes.

Luna, however, let out a quiet sigh of relief and set her cup down.

She had celebrated too soon.

Camilla caught every subtle shift in Luna’s expression, the corners of her lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"But I do have a photo of them," She reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph, her dark, piercing eyes lifting to meet the queen’s gaze from the head of the table.

"I came to the palace today hoping to take this opportunity to ask for Your Majesty’s help."

It was the only family portrait she had with her parents—a painful memory she had long avoided facing.

*Crack!*

Before Camilla could finish speaking, the sharp sound of shattering porcelain cut through the air.

In an instant, all eyes turned toward the source of the noise.

Camilla’s eyes gleamed with hidden meaning, her lips curling in a knowing half-smile.

Couldn’t even hold her composure, could she?

"My hand slipped," Luna forced a strained smile, struggling to maintain her facade.

"My hand slipped.

Someone clean this up."

Kiara’s brows knitted slightly.

Something felt off about her mother today.

Was it just the excitement over Grandmother waking up?

"Right away," the maid standing behind them stepped forward promptly, efficiently sweeping up the shattered porcelain from the floor.

Queen Elizabeth frowned, studying Luna with a pensive gaze.

If this child truly was Allen’s daughter, the truth about what happened back then might finally come to light.

Harvey, ever perceptive, also narrowed his eyes in quiet contemplation.

"Sonia, pass this to Her Majesty," Camilla handed a photo to the girl beside her—a family portrait of three, frozen in time.

As Sonia handed the photo to the queen, she stole a quick glance.

The man had striking features—sharp brows, deep-set eyes, and a chiseled face that exuded an air of nobility.

His dark brown eyes held a faint hint of mixed heritage, though his overall appearance leaned more toward classic country E features.

The woman beside him was gentle and radiant, her sweet smile instantly captivating.

In her arms, she cradled a toddler no older than two or three.

The queen took the photo, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

Her eyes glistened, reddening in an instant.

"Allen... It’s my Allen," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Her fingers traced the man’s face in the photograph, her expression raw with longing.

"I’ve finally found you... after all these years."

In that moment, Queen Elizabeth shed the regal composure that usually surrounded her like an invisible mantle.

She was no longer the untouchable monarch—just a mother, heart laid bare. Despite his suspicions, Harvey couldn’t hide his shock. Allen?

The late crown prince, his uncle who had died too young?

How on earth were Camilla’s parents connected to him?

Meanwhile, Kiara froze at the name, her mind spinning with countless questions.

A storm of confusion raged inside her, leaving her thoughts in disarray.

This moment had arrived, after all.

Luna sat rigidly upright before suddenly slumping back into her chair, her face drained of color.

Her eyes turned fathomless and vacant, like bottomless pools of darkness.

Queen Elizabeth’s gaze devoured the photograph with near desperation, as though trying to brand the now-matured face—so different from her memories—into her very soul.

Uncontrollable tears traced paths down her pale, care worn cheeks.

Though Camilla felt little familial connection to this blood-related grandmother, the raw emotion of the scene still tugged at her heartstrings.

Her own eyes grew misty.

If Father could see this from beyond the grave, he’d surely be moved.

The throne room’s atmosphere had shifted from formal austerity to profound melancholy.

Just then, Lucky hurried in with urgent footsteps.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "the test results are ready."