Chapter 515: Chapter 515

In the dream, he was imprisoned in some sealed-off place.

She couldn’t tell where it was, nor could she hear any sounds, but she saw with terrifying clarity a group of faceless figures brutally interrogating him.

Her grandfather clenched his teeth, refusing to speak.

Terrified, she threw herself in front of him, trying to shield him—but it was futile.

She could only watch helplessly as those figures raised their whips and lashed at his frail body.

The sheer despair jolted her awake.

The dream felt too real—could it have actually happened?

If so, who were those people?

And what has become of her grandfather now?

Camilla didn’t dare dwell on it any longer.

Her slender frame trembled faintly.

Sinclair took one look at her and knew the dream about grandpa Rodriguez couldn’t have been anything good.

"Camilla, your grandfather will be fine," he said softly, pressing his lips together.

Sinclair settled behind her, wrapping his arms around her completely, letting his warmth seep into her.

"Otherwise, those people wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hide him away."

His handsome face appeared somber and brooding in the dim lamplight, those pitch-black eyes swirling with indescribable emotions.

"With all this commotion we’re stirring up, those people won’t be able to sit still for long.

They’ll show their hand soon enough."

The man’s deep, steady voice carried a reassuring calm.

Camilla pressed her lips together and gave a slight nod.

*Grandfather, wherever you are, please hold on.

*Soon—very soon—I’ll find you.*

Her clear, determined eyes darkened with the same intensity as Sinclair’s.

*And as for those who hurt you...*

No matter who they are, no matter what it takes, I won’t let them get away with it.* ——

Meanwhile, in the sitting room of the royal palace’s side chamber...

"That damned old fox is too cunning—he didn’t give anything away," grumbled Easton, his expression sour as he recalled the events in the basement.

"We couldn’t even confirm whether this woman is the one we’re looking for.

A complete waste of our time."

His gaze shifted pointedly toward Luna.

"Your Highness, what should we do now?"

"First, we need to obtain that woman’s blood sample to confirm her identity," Luna replied coldly, her piercing eyes dark and unfathomable.

"If she is the one, then make her disappear—permanently.

And we can move the rest of our plans forward."

She took a sip of tea, suppressing the ambition burning in her gaze.

"If not, we keep searching. But time is running out."

"If she were just an ordinary woman, we could easily take her," Aiston hesitated before voicing his concerns, his eyes fixed on Luna.

"But this woman is Sinclair’s wife.

Whether it’s the Luther Family or Sinclair himself, neither will be easy to deal with."

A century-old aristocratic dynasty. Wealth rivaling nations.

Ruthless beyond measure.

Any one of those labels alone was enough to give pause.

Especially when acting behind *his* back.

"In two days, it will be Kiara’s birthday," Luna murmured, her lips curling slightly, though her eyes remained cold and devoid of warmth.

"This will be her last birthday with the royal family before her marriage.

Naturally, I should make it a grand celebration."

Her voice was calm and measured, as if discussing the most mundane of matters.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, being the primary sponsors of this charity gala, are esteemed guests of our kingdom.

Of course, they must be invited."

So, they planned to strike during Kiara’s birthday banquet?

Easton grasped Luna’s implication instantly, the furrow in his brow smoothing away.

"An excellent idea indeed."

Before they could continue, a sudden knock echoed at the door.

The voice of the side palace’s steward called from outside.

Easton’s gaze sharpened as he turned toward the door.

Luna frowned. Yet she knew—no one would dare disturb them without an urgent cause.

Before the words had fully left her lips, the door swung open from the outside.

A man in a butler’s uniform stepped inside, bowing slightly to Luna.

"Your Highness, Mr. Nolan has sent Princess Kiara back.

She’s waiting outside."

A look of satisfaction crossed Easton’s face.

*That Nolan boy knows his place.*

Clearly, he hadn’t noticed the fleeting complexity in the butler’s expression as he spoke.

Luna glanced at the time.

"Earl and I still have matters to discuss.

Tell her to go rest."

"But, Your Highness..."

The butler hesitated, his face troubled.

"Princess Kiara isn’t feeling well.

Should we summon the royal physician?"

Luna’s gaze turned icy in an instant.

"How did a simple dinner with that Nolan boy leave her unwell?"

Easton frowned, his voice laced with displeasure.

"Don’t tell me that brat has upset our Kiara again?"

Luna didn’t respond to Easton. Instead, she turned to the side hall steward.

"Yes," the steward nodded and hurried out.

Soon, a tall, stern-faced young man with a broken eyebrow entered, supporting an unsteady woman between them.

At the sight, both Luna and Aiston’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Nolan... I knew you wouldn’t leave me..."

Her eyes glazed over as she leaned toward the young man with the broken eyebrow, murmuring incoherently.

"I knew you loved me."

"I want you... Nolan."

Though her tearful whispers were soft, they rang painfully clear in the silent hall.

"Your Highness, I am not Mr. Nolan.

The young man with the broken eyebrow immediately took two steps back, releasing his hold on Kiara and handing her over completely to the deputy hall bodyguard.

"Don’t go... please don’t leave..."

Kiara paid no heed to the man’s words.

She felt as though her body was being consumed by flames—only the scent of that man could bring her any relief.

After the broken-browed youth retreated, Kiara clutched at the assistant bodyguard beside her, ready to lean into him.

Luna and Aiston took one look at Kiara’s state and instantly understood the true nature of her "discomfort."

Their expressions darkened to the extreme.

The bodyguard paled in horror as Kiara moved to press herself against him.

But with him being the only one supporting her, letting go would surely send her tumbling to the ground.

Just as he hesitated, Luna—without anyone noticing—had already risen from her seat and stepped in front of Kiara.

Luna strode over to the disoriented Kiara and struck her across the face without hesitation.

The usual grace and composure on her face had vanished, replaced by a storm of dark fury.

Easton was stunned, too late to intervene.

Kiara, already unsteady on her feet, crumpled to the ground from the force of the slap.

Her delicate cheek swelled visibly, the skin flushing an angry red.

The sharp pain jolted her into a fleeting moment of clarity.

Clutching her throbbing face, she blinked up at Luna’s livid expression, dazed.

Luna’s lips pressed into a thin line, her silence more chilling than any rebuke.

Her gaze, dark and unreadable, lingered on Kiara before she abruptly turned to the bodyguard.

"What the hell happened?"

The suppressed rage in her voice sent a shiver down the spine. The young man with the scarred brow tensed, bowing his head.

"Princess Kiara was deceived and unknowingly slipped something... into Mr. Nolan’s drink."

Judging by Kiara’s current state, it wasn’t hard to guess what that "something" was.

Luna pressed her lips tightly together, her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging so deep into her palms they nearly drew blood.

"How is Nolan?" she asked, her voice steady.

The young man with the broken eyebrow chose his words carefully.

"Mr. Nolan drank more than a few glasses. His condition is far worse than the princess’s.

His’s currently undergoing treatment."

Luna’s tone remained composed, but a closer look would reveal the storm brewing in her eyes.

"Go back and take care of Nolan first."

The young man bowed respectfully to Luna and Aiston before turning to leave.