​"No, Master! Please, listen to me!" Master Caleb pleaded, his voice breaking along with his heart. "We couldn't protect you openly, but we never truly abandoned you! You must understand the dark forces hunting your lineage. If we had shown ourselves in this mortal world with our true signatures, our enemies' trackers would have zeroed in on you instantly, putting you in danger. We had to pretend you had forgotten everything, watching over you from the shadows all these years!"​The old man lowered his head to hid the tears in his eyes. "We thought you were simply hiding your true nature to protect yourself, we didn't realize you had genuinely lost your memories of who you are, otherwise we would have intervened much sooner! Had we known the seal on your mind was absolute, we would never have let you suffer in silence for so long!"​Elijah listened to the old man's hurried explanation, his chest rising and falling heavily. He was the one who had been fooled brutally by his wife all

​Master Caleb raised his hands in a placating gesture, quickly stepping forward to ease the sudden panic flaring in the young man's eyes.It was natural that after suffering so many hardships during his early years, the young heir was quite distrustful and easily suspected anyone. But it still caught Master Caleb off guard, and he was trying his best to sound soothing— meanwhile, this effort was amusing Mia quite a lot. ​"No, Master! Please, listen to me. You just need to disappear from the world's sight for a few days without leaving a body behind. I am asking you to act, not actually die! We would never even think of bringing harm to our own royal lineage. It is merely a performance to mislead those who are watching from beyond."​Elijah stared at the old man, his breathing still rapid and uneven. The wild bull in his chest, that was bucking in the name of suspicion, began to settle slightly as he saw the look of sincerity on both their faces. These two were quite dramatic and ove

​Inside the grand study of the private island mansion, two figures were engrossed in deep conversation. Master Caleb stood near a heavy wooden desk. ​He looked across the room at Elijah, his gray eyes full of quiet deference and deep emotion. ​"Master, tonight I'm hosting a gala," Master Caleb began, his voice carrying a mix of pride and lingering sorrow. "And I know that in reality... well, I wanted to throw a huge, magnificent party if things had been as they were before. If our world hadn't fallen to ruins, we would have celebrated for one month straight that our true heir has finally returned to us! The heavens themselves would have sung your name!" ​The old man sighed, lowering his head slightly. "But unfortunately... the conditions are not like that right now. We must keep your identity guarded from the prying eyes of our enemies." ​Sitting on a plush velvet armchair, Elijah couldn't help but feel a sudden wave of irritation washing over him. He was dressed in a comfortable

​The grand evening gala on the private island was scheduled to begin at eight o'clock sharp, but Elijah had absolutely no desire to wear any of the expensive bespoke suits the private tailors had laid out for him.​He had completely ignored the racks of luxury clothing imported from Milan, the shiny gold cufflinks, and the silk ties. Instead, Elijah was dressed in just completely normal, plain clothes. He wore a simple, dark cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves, an ordinary pair of dark trousers, and casual shoes. His dark hair was combed back simply, still showing a faint scratch near his temple from the alleyway beating, and his jaw still carried a dull, fading purple bruise.​Master Caleb had specifically instructed him earlier that he didn't need to stand on any stage or be under the spotlight. He was told to just linger in the crowd quietly like an ordinary attendee so that nobody would suspect his true royal identity.​About half an hour before the heavy iron gates of the estate

The night air out in the gardens was cool, and the heavy bass from the ballroom's live orchestra drifted faintly across the manicured lawns. Elijah stayed close to the shadowed perimeter of the high hedges, keeping his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trousers as he watched the patio just ahead.​The situation was plain to see. The girl was standing in the center of the flagstone area, completely cornered against one of the square marble pillars. Two young men in formal suits had gripped her by her forearms, holding her in place so she couldn't step back or turn away toward the lawn.​She was noticeably tall, with a slender, slightly thin frame that made her look even more delicate under the garden lights. Everything about her posture—the nervous way she carried herself, her hesitant movements, the deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes—gave the impression of a very sheltered, naïve young lady. She looked like someone who had lived her entire life inside quiet, protected room