The Unveiling of Secret Queen

”Why did you suddenly bring this up?” Stanley Zachmann sat back down.

Nathalie Quinlan lowered her lashes, speaking with a casual tone, ”I just wanted to ask, if it’s inconvenient for you to talk about it, then forget it.”

Stanley Zachmann thought of his wife who had passed away many years ago, and his mood grew heavier.

He was silent for a moment, looking at his daughter who resembled his wife, feeling a mix of emotions: ”Her? She was like the wind... To be honest, I don’t really know much about your mom. If I had tried to understand her more back then and spent more time with her, maybe things wouldn’t have ended in tragedy.”

Nathalie raised her eyelids, looking at the man with a sad expression, and pursed her lips, speaking softly after a long pause: ”I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

Stanley Zachmann’s eyes reddened, shaking his head, looking at her again, always a bit worried for Nathalie: ”Nathalie, is there something going on with you?”

”No.” Nathalie hadn’t sorted out her own thoughts yet, and definitely couldn’t tell him. She didn’t meet his eyes, denying it without thinking: ”Dad, you’re overthinking it.”

Stanley Zachmann could tell she was hiding something from him but didn’t want to press her. He spoke with Nathalie for a few more moments, and seeing that it was getting late, urged her to rest early and ended the phone call.

...

Nathalie waited for Stanley Zachmann to hang up before walking back, placing the phone on the table to charge, and got a change of clothes from the wardrobe, heading into the bathroom.

The sound of water splashing filled the bathroom, and mist quickly gathered on the glass, making the figure inside faintly visible from outside.

Amadeus Yancey received a call from Nicholas Fuller downstairs, then went upstairs to knock on the door, only to find Nathalie seemed to have forgotten to close it.

He raised an eyebrow and pushed the door open to enter.

Nathalie’s room wasn’t large, equipped with a private bath.

Aside from a bed and desk, there was also a small single sofa and tea table by the window.

The room wasn’t big, but it was warmly decorated.

Amadeus walked in and saw the girl’s belongings casually scattered on the desk and beside the bed. He walked over and took her changed clothes, hanging them on the back of a nearby chair.

Nathalie didn’t have many things, rummaging around revealed only an old laptop and a perpetually unchanged black backpack.

Aside from these, there were some miscellaneous items and a few pieces of changeable clothes...

Amadeus had prepared plenty of new brand-name clothes for girls in the wardrobe, but unfortunately, he rarely saw her wear them.

Nathalie usually went out in a sweater; in summer, she wore a short T-shirt—whatever was comfortable. Her style was generally cool and casual, often just wearing a cap when she went out.

And so Amadeus found a black duckbill cap that she often used on her desk. The cap was plain and utterly simple, nothing more than a basic duckbill cap.

The sound of water continued to splash in the room.

Amadeus stood in her room for a while, then thought of something. He pulled out a clean white towel from the drawer, and placed it by the door for the girl to conveniently see when she comes out after the shower.

Nathalie’s right shoulder was injured and couldn’t get wet, so she just quickly wiped her body and washed her hair.

Very soon, she turned off the water, opened the bathroom door, and stepped out.

Nathalie hadn’t noticed the extra person in her room yet, her clothes loosely worn on her body. Fine droplets of water slid from the tips of her damp hair down her slender, fair neck, rolling into her neckline and disappearing out of sight.