The Ashcroft carriage rolled steadily along the familiar path leading to the estate. Acacia sat quietly, her mind swirling with thoughts. Should I tell them? Should I reveal that my memories have returned that I now know exactly who I am? The question lingered, like a weight pressing against her chest.
She didn't want to hide it. The Ashcrofts had taken her in, trusted her, made her one of their own. Now that her memories had resurfaced, she felt she owed them the truth.
As the carriage doors swung open, the household staff greeted them with polite bows. Once inside, the Duchess paused, approaching her with a gentle smile.
"My dear, have you had breakfast?" she asked, her tone warm and attentive.
"Yes, I have," Acacia replied softly.
The Duchess's eyes lingered on her. "Good. Then you should rest for a while," she said, placing a tender hand on Acacia's shoulder before stepping back.
Acacia hesitated. Her fingers brushed the folds of her dress, her body almost moving toward the staircase out of habit. Almost. Her steps faltered.
"Mother…" The word slipped out, softer than a whisper, yet it stilled the air.
The Duchess turned, her expression shifting to concern. Dominic and Astor had just entered, their presence weighing at Acacia's back. For a moment, she thought of swallowing the words, of waiting for another day.
"Yes?" Mirena asked gently. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"
Acacia shook her head. "No, I'm not hurt. But… there is something I must tell you. All of you."
The Duke's brows furrowed. "What is it, child?"
Acacia drew in a steadying breath. "Could we go to the living room? I… I'd rather tell you there."
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and made her way toward the grand doors of the living room. The Duke and Duchess exchanged a glance before following.
Her brothers lingered, exchanging a look of unspoken worry. Then, silently, they too followed.
They gathered in the living room. The Duke and Duchess exchanged quiet glances, while Dominic stepped forward, concern etched deep across his face."What is it, Acacia? You're worrying me."
"Please," she said softly, gesturing toward the seats. "Sit first."
Once they had settled, Acacia's hands clenched in her lap. She lifted her gaze and said, steady but low, "My memories… they've returned. I remember who I am."
The room stilled.
The Duke's brows furrowed in worry. The Duchess's breath caught, eyes widening with both fear and hope. Dominic leaned forward sharply, disbelief and excitement flashing across his face. Astor froze, then half-rose from his chair, eyes darting over her as though to confirm nothing had changed.
"That's..." Astor burst out, unable to contain himself, "that's amazing! But, wait, how? When? How and when did you get them back? And… who are you?"
"Astor," Dominic cut in, his voice taut but steadier. His eyes stayed locked on Acacia. "Is this true? You truly… remember?"
The silence that followed was thick, every breath in the room held. The Duke's hand gripped the armrest, the Duchess's lips parted as if to speak, yet no words came. Dominic and Astor both leaned toward her, waiting.. dreading.. hoping.
Finally, Acacia drew in a slow breath. Her voice, quiet but unshaking, broke the air."…Yes. I remember almost everything."
She let the silence hang for a beat longer, then lifted her chin."I am Chrysanthia Grey… daughter of Emperor Auren Grey of Valeriath."
The words dropped like stones into still water.
The Duke's face paled before the faintest, bittersweet smile curved his lips. Relief flickered in his eyes, yet behind it lay the heavy shadow of consequence. "So it is true," he murmured, half to himself. "Our Acacia… no, Chrysanthia Grey." Happiness touched his expression, but worry weighed just as heavily, he already saw the storm such truth could summon.
The Duchess pressed trembling fingers to her lips, tears pooling in her eyes. "Thank the heavens…" Her voice cracked with emotion, radiant joy softening her features. "You have found yourself at last, my dear girl."
Astor blinked rapidly, the weight of the name not fully sinking in at first. Then his jaw dropped, words tumbling out in a rush. "Wait, what?! The Emperor's daughter? The Valeriath Empire's princess? That makes you… you're..." He stumbled over his own excitement, awe and disbelief sparking together.
Dominic's jaw tightened, his arms crossing as he leaned back in his chair. "You say that as if we should simply accept it. But you have no proof."
Acacia flinched, her throat tightening. "I don't… have proof," she admitted, forcing herself not to look away.
"Then explain," Dominic pressed, his eyes like sharpened steel. "How did you end up in that forest? What exactly happened to you?"
Acacia's eyes widened. For a moment, her lips trembled, but then she lifted her chin, her voice wavering but firm. "I don't remember what exactly happened. I don't know how I ended up there… But what I do know is that I am Chrysanthia."
Dominic's gaze hardened. "And how convenient, these memories return now of all times? How?"
"Last night," Acacia said, her hands curling in her lap, "when the carriage was attacked. My memories returned then."
Dominic's disbelief was plain, a bitter scoff escaping him.
Her voice sharpened. "How do you think I survived yesterday, Dominic? You weren't there. None of you were. Irene and I were surrounded by more than fifteen attackers. If my memories hadn't returned, if I hadn't remembered how to wield a sword, we both would have died."
She paused, her words hanging heavy in the room. Her gaze softened as it flicked to her stepmother's worried face. "…Or been gravely injured."
The room stilled.
Astor shifted first, leaning forward, his brows drawn yet steady. "I believe her," he said without hesitation, the words almost instinctive. There was no logic or proof in his tone, only a quiet certainty that needed no explanation. His gaze lingered on Acacia, as if the truth had always been there for him to see.
Acacia's breath trembled as her eyes flicked to him, a faint disbelief breaking across her face. Relief softened the tight line of her mouth, and for the first time since she spoke her name aloud, her shoulders eased ever so slightly. Someone believed her without condition, without proof.
But the warmth of that moment did not touch everyone. Dominic's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as if Astor's instinctive acceptance only deepened his suspicion. His doubt hung heavier now, pressing hard into the room.
Across from them, the Duchess sat in silence, her hands curled together in her lap. Worry traced her features, concern not only for Acacia, but for the fragile balance splintering within her family.
The room had split, quietly and irrevocably, around Acacia's truth.
Dominic's voice cut in again, laced with doubt though not as sharp as before. "Look, I want to believe you, but how do we know you're not imposing as Chrysanthia Grey? That day, we did speak of crests and sigils, you could have pieced this together. Do you know what that means?"
Acacia's breath caught, her eyes widening in disbelief and hurt. She looked at him with hope flickering, hope that he'd see her sincerity only to feel his doubt pressing heavier against her chest.
Before she could answer, the Duke's firm voice broke through, commanding the room. "Enough, Dominic. That will do."
His gaze swept over both sons, cold and unyielding. "She has spoken. Whether you believe her or not is a matter you will keep to yourselves. What I will not allow is this… interrogation. Not under my roof."
The tension crackled, thick and unresolved. Acacia lowered her eyes, caught between relief and the sting of not being fully trusted.