"Child, shouldn't you be happy to see your grandpa?
Why the tears?"
Grandpa Rodriguez gently patted Camilla's back, forcing a lighthearted tone, yet his own tears flowed uncontrollably.
Uncle Carlos, witnessing the scene, couldn't help but feel deeply moved.
He had learned most of the details about the young madam from Grandpa Rodriguez.
The old man had endured so long in prison, all for her sake.
Though they weren't bound by blood, their bond ran deeper than many true familial ties.
Camilla, usually the picture of composure, now wept without restraint.
Sinclair had never seen his wife shed so many tears before, and a dull ache spread through his chest.
He offered a helpless smile.
Had he known, he should have told her directly.
If she'd had time to process it along the way, perhaps her emotions wouldn't have overflowed like this.
"Camilla, don't cry," he murmured, his voice tender and patient, laced with unmistakable gentleness.
If she kept crying like this, his heart would shatter—not just metaphorically, but quite literally.
Due to the Heart-Linking poison, his heart was now unilaterally controlled by Camilla.
Yet Camilla remained completely oblivious to Sinclair's words, her face still buried against Grandpa Rodriguez as she continued to sob.
This was the first time Sinclair had ever been so thoroughly ignored by his own wife.
He pressed his lips together.
But remembering that the one holding her attention was grandpa Rodriguez, a trace of resignation flickered in his eyes as he suppressed all his emotions.
The expression on his face carried an inexplicable hint of grievance.
Uncle Carlos observed Sinclair's reaction with quiet amusement, unable to suppress a knowing smile.
Only when it came to Mrs. Camilla did Mr. Sinclair never reveals even a sliver of genuine emotion.
"Camilla, Grandpa is back safe and sound," grandpa Rodriguez steadied his own emotions first, his voice warm yet firm as he patted her back affectionately.
"Don't cry now, be good."
"Mhm, mhm..."
Camilla nodded obediently, her sobs softening—though the occasional hiccup still escaped, just like the day she had learned of her grandfather's disappearance.
Sinclair "Alright, he wasn't jealous.
"Grandpa told you before—emotional ups and downs directly affect your health," grandpa Rodriguez said, patting the back of his granddaughter's hand reassuringly when he saw she was listening.
"You have to think not just about yourself, but also the little one inside you."
The baby.
Camilla finally snapped out of her tearful joy, wiping her eyes before placing a hand over her belly in a tender, almost theatrical gesture.
Her voice was muffled with emotion as she murmured, "I'm sorry, baby.
Mommy got so excited seeing Grandpa that she forgot about you for a second.
Don't be mad at me."
Forgotten, indeed—and not just the baby.
A wry smile tugged at Sinclair's lips.
Now he knows exactly where he stood in Camilla's eyes—below the old man, above the unborn child.
For now, at least. Grandpa Rodriguez turned his gaze toward Sinclair, his eyes warm with affectionate amusement.
"Sinclair, come take your wife to sit down before she drowns us all in tears.
If she keeps this up, my old bones might just catch rheumatism."
"My fault," Sinclair replied, his smile deepening into one of gentle humility.
Now that's a rare expression.
Camilla hadn't expected her grandfather to tease her at a time like this.
She feigned annoyance, knitting her brows together.
"Grandpa!"
"Sir, you're still weak.
Let's sit down and have some tea first before we continue talking."
Uncle Carlos stepped forward at just the right moment, supporting grandpa Rodriguez as he settled back into his seat.
Sinclair walked over to Camilla, wrapping an arm around her waist before guiding her to sit beside him on the sofa next to her grandfather.
"You heard grandpa.
Sit down and talk properly."
Camilla had already calmed down.
She nodded, giving Sinclair's hand a tight squeeze.
In an instant, she understood everything—why Sinclair hadn't arrived at the hotel at their agreed time while gathering intel, and why he had returned injured.
Turns out, he had completely altered the plan and rescued her grandfather himself.
But that was the royal palace's side hall.
The risks involved went without saying.
The reason he hadn't told her was undoubtedly to spare her the worry.
All her emotions swirled together, then shattered into countless fragments, flooding through her veins.
"Sweetheart.. thank you."
Sinclair's expression remained calm and tender, his tone light and effortless.
"Grandpa Rodriguez is family to me as well."
A single sentence that spoke volumes.
Camilla understood Sinclair's meaning perfectly, her fingers tightening around in silent gratitude.
From his seat where he sipped tea, grandpa Rodriguez observed their exchange with keen eyes, the deep wrinkles around his weathered face softening with unmistakable approval.
The Luther Family represented the strongest sanctuary he could secure for Camilla.
Initially, he'd thought that even without affection between them, Grandpa Luther's presence alone would guarantee his granddaughter a stable future.
But reality had surpassed his expectations.
Perhaps fate was just after all.
As Camilla's emotions settled, her gaze lingered on her grandfather's gaunt frame and pallid complexion, a shadow of concern darkening her eyes.
"By the way, Grandpa," she tilted her head playfully, forcing a lighthearted tone, "it's been so long since I've seen you.
Let me check your pulse—see if my diagnostic skills have improved, okay?"
The carefully crafted request left no room for refusal.
For the briefest moment, Mr. Rodriguez's lowered eyelids stilled before he raised them again, warmth flooding his expression.
"You're my granddaughter.
No one knows your pulse-reading skills better than I do," he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand.
"No need for tests—"
With that, he turned his gaze to Sinclair and chuckled.
"You reckless boy, you've got some nerve—sending people to break into the side palace of E Kingdom's royal court just to rescue me?"
When he first saw the newcomers, he had almost suspected it was one of Luna's schemes.
Sinclair and Camilla were both sharp enough to recognize that the old man was deliberately changing the subject.
Camilla's eyes flickered slightly, a sudden pang of unease tightening in her chest.
Could something be wrong with Grandpa's health?*
"They'll soon uncover Camilla's identity, and once they do, your safety will be compromised," Sinclair said, sensing her worry.
He gave her hand a reassuring pat before answering grandpa Rodriguez with his usual composure.
"Better to strike first while they're still unprepared."
Of course, his boldness wasn't without reason.
Luna had kept grandpa Rodriguez's imprisonment under wraps—she, more than anyone, feared the truth getting out.
So whether it was Sinclair's rescue mission or any retaliation afterward, she wouldn't dare escalate the situation.
"Just like your old man—brave and cunning," grandpa Rodriguez nodded, admiration gleaming in his eyes.
"Camilla is lucky to have a husband like you."
Sinclair's fingers brushed lightly over her belly as he murmured tenderly, "No, the luck is all mine."
Something flickered briefly in Camilla's gaze.
Just as Grandpa Rodriguez was about to speak, Camilla suddenly winced, her brows knitting together as she sucked in a sharp breath.