Dahlia’s gaze softened, but her voice carried an unshakable certainty. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Maya’s hand, a quiet warmth flickering in her eyes despite the weight of her words. “You are truly Malia’s daughter. Your heart… it is both your greatest strength and your deepest vulnerability.”
A pause hung in the air, heavy with emotion, before Dahlia continued, her tone steady yet edged with inevitability. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Bloodlines are more than names… more than titles. No matter what name you carry, you are still the eldest daughter of the princess—of their queen, the rightful heir. The crown… passes to you.”
Maya’s chest tightened, and she shook her head, her voice trembling. “I… I don’t want any of it.”
Damien stepped closer,
