Davina’s POV
“Young master! You’re awake! Gosh, you were so naughty last night!”
Cleo latched onto Humphrey’s arm like her life depended on it, rubbing her chest against him like a cat in heat. He didn’t say a word–just watched her with that half–smile of his, equal parts amused and cold.
Then, with a dramatic tug, she pulled her collar open to show off the red marks scattered along her neck. Bold move.
I had already dressed after pushing Daxon off me. Now, I stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching Cleo throw herself at Humphrey like an octopus.
There was no question in my mind–she was the mastermind behind all this setup!
She must have felt me glaring holes through her, but she only clung tighter, rubbing herself against him.
“Humphrey, I-“I started to speak, but he raised a hand, silencing me.
“Well, it looks like our guests had a restful night,” he said smoothly, his tone calm but carrying a weight that made it clear this was not up for discussion. “Though you’re here as Davina’s guests, this is private Ashbournes property. It’s not appropriate for you to stay any longer. I’ll have someone arrange your transport home shortly.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but the message couldn’t have been louder.
Cleo’s face flickered with disbelief. Clearly, this wasn’t how she thought things would play
out.
I couldn’t help it–I laughed. The look she shot me could have set hair on fire, but Humphrey just looked at me, the steel in his expression melting into something soft and protective.
We stood side by side by the window, watching Cleo and Daxon slink away. Their silhouettes grew smaller with every step, and I finally turned to Humphrey.
“How did you know this was all her doing?”
-He gave me a small, knowing smile. “This is my home, Princess Davina. Cleo paid off a
maid to spike our drinks. But the drug she used just knocked us out. So don’t worry–your knight still has his armor intact.
I felt my cheeks flush, heat blooming instantly.
“But I know Cleo,” I said, voice low with concern. “She’s not going to back off that easily.”
“Let her try. I’m here,” he said, his words steady and reassuring. Somehow, they calmed my heart too.
Humphrey recovered quickly. We didn’t waste time. The wedding date was set for two weeks later.
The preparations were in full swing–dress fittings, media rehearsals, castle decorations-
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everything was proceeding in a tight schedule.
But no one expected that the trouble would come from the one place it never should’ve.
The day before the wedding, my foster parents walked into the Ashbournes’s sitting room, unannounced.
They were dressed up, smiling like they’d come to give blessings. Grandpa, ever the gentleman, greeted them out of politeness.
But it didn’t take long for their real agenda to show.
My foster father opened his mouth, and just like that, he dropped a bombshell. “Davina, this wedding isn’t happening.”
I blinked, stunned. “Excuse me?”
“You may have royal blood now,” my foster mother jumped in, her tone smug and self–righteous, “but don’t forget–we’re the ones who raised you. From the time you were eight, we clothed you, fed you, gave you a roof. You owe us.”
“Which means,” my foster father continued, “we have a say in who you marry.”
I looked at them without saying a word.
But they just kept going, their demands becoming more outrageous.
“Yes, the Ashbournes’s wealthy, but Humphrey’s disabled,” my foster father said. He slapped the table and added firmly, “It’s not a fair match. Not for you. That’s why we arranged something better.”
My heart sank. “With who?”
My foster mother lit up like she’d won the lottery. “A West African chieftain. Sure, he’s older, but he’s rich! He’s already promised to give us half of one of his diamond mines if you marry him!”
I stared at them like they’d lost their minds. “Are you serious right now?” I finally snapped. “Davina, we’re doing this for your own good!” she snapped. “You’re someone now! You can’t just throw that away on a man with baggage. At least in Africa, you’d have status and money, and no one would care about your past scandals-”
Η
“Enough.” I cut her off. “I appreciate that you took care of me. But my marriage? My future? It’s not a bargaining chip for you to trade.”
“Davina!” My foster father was on his feet now, furious. “We raised you! Now that you’ve grown wings, you’re turning your back on us?!”
“I’m not marrying that chieftain,” I said, cold and certain. “And this decision? It’s not yours to make.”
They finally noticed Humphrey standing next to me, his expression dark and unreadable. That was enough to make my foster mother go quiet–at least for now.
Still, she mumbled under her breath, “We just want what’s best for you… What kind of parents wouldn’t?”
That night, I tried to be the bigger person. Despite everything, I remembered the good. I
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figured we could talk it out, settle things like civilized people.
But as I reached their door, I froze.
I heard her voice–sharp, cold, and calculated.
“Just like Cleo said… She refused. That means we move to Plan B.”
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Davina’s POV
