"I always thought I failed her as a father," James admitted, a faint, wry smile touching his lips. "That I took her childhood from her because I didn't know how to handle things… didn't know how to handle her."
His hand came up unconsciously, brushing at the corner of his eye before he let it fall again.
"She was always so serious… so understanding. Never threw tantrums. Never demanded anything. Never complained." His voice grew quieter with each word. "She just… took on responsibilities. Without being asked."
Maximilian listened in silence, his chest tightening in a way he didn't show.
He knew why.
He knew exactly why Catherine had changed so abruptly, why she had shed her childhood like something unnecessary. Those memories… that past life… it had reshaped her in ways no one around her could ever fully understand.
And James… James had carried the weight of that misunderstanding all these years.
"It's not your fault, sir," Maximilian said gently.
