บท 3: CHAPTER 3: The Waiting Game
~Dale
I never wanted this marriage. It was nothing but a chain around my neck, a sentence disguised as a union. Every day since that cursed wedding, I had waited—waited for her to slip, to make the one mistake that would be the ruin of her wretched family. It was the least she could do, I thought, considering the blood on their hands, the blood of my sister that would never wash away.
But as the months dragged on, my patience wore thin.
Gail Raven Yrenea Montclair—my wife, in name only—was impossible to decipher. I watched her from a distance, like a hawk circling its prey, waiting for her to show her true colors. The Montclairs were snakes, every one of them, and she was no different. Or so I had believed.
Each morning, she rose before the sun, disappearing into the winding corridors of the palace or into the city beyond. The Aldeburgh Main Hospital was her refuge, a place where she hid behind the sterile walls of her profession. I had expected to find corruption, evidence of backdoor deals, malpractice, something—anything—I could use to condemn her. But there was nothing. Not even a whisper of wrongdoing.
My sources reported her movements with irritating precision: from the operating room to the children's ward, then to the trauma center where she performed surgeries most wouldn't dare attempt. They spoke of her brilliance, her cold efficiency, the way she worked without pause or complaint. It was maddening. How could someone raised by a family of vipers be so... untouchable?
Yet, here she was. Perfect Gray, the prodigy of Valyshire, living a life so spotless it made my teeth grind. I had waited for scandal, for a moment of weakness, but it never came. It wasn't that she was cautious. No, it was far worse—she was genuine. I loathed her for it.
Every night, I returned to our empty chambers, the space between us a silent battlefield neither of us acknowledged. She never asked where I went, never questioned the late nights or the missions that pulled me away from the palace. It was as if we were strangers, bound by a vow neither of us wanted. But I knew she had secrets, just as I did. Secrets that could bring her entire family crumbling down if I could only find them.
But the truth was, I had nothing.
The realization gnawed at me like a sickness. I wanted to see her break, to see her facade crumble under the weight of my hatred. But all I saw was a woman who was as relentless as she was infuriatingly serene. A woman who, despite everything, had somehow managed to find purpose amidst the chaos of our forced union.
The weeks turned into months, each one as uneventful as the last. I spent my days training, overseeing the preparations for our next missions with my team, the Phantoms. But even the thrill of a rescue operation couldn't drown out the frustration that festered within me.
Next month would mark the anniversary of my sister Elara's death—a day that haunted my family, a wound that had never healed. The palace was already abuzz with preparations for the commemoration. It was a cruel reminder of what I had lost, of the reason I had agreed to this farce of a marriage in the first place.
Elara. The name alone was enough to harden my resolve. She had been the light of our family, my confidante, my closest friend. Her death had been a message, a warning, and it was the Montclairs who had silenced the truth. I had sworn on her grave that I would find justice, that I would make them pay. And now, as the anniversary of her death loomed over us, the wounds felt as fresh as the day I had found her lifeless body.
The palace was a flurry of activity, servants and staff bustling to prepare for the memorial. My mother, Queen Amara, had thrown herself into the planning, determined to honor her daughter's memory with grandeur. But I could see the cracks in her façade, the way her hands trembled when she thought no one was watching. For her, this was more than a commemoration—it was a reminder of the justice we had been denied.
Gray had been assigned to oversee some of the preparations, much to my dismay. It was another one of my father's attempts to force a semblance of unity between our fractured families. But I knew better than to trust her with something so personal.
I watched her now, across the grand hall where the portraits of Vaeloris' royal line hung, her figure framed by the stained-glass windows that cast a spectrum of colors around her. She was speaking to one of the palace stewards, her tone calm and measured as always, a stark contrast to the chaos around her.
There was a part of me that wondered, not for the first time, what went on behind those guarded eyes of hers. What secrets did she carry? What truths did she hide beneath that carefully composed exterior? I had tried to break her, to find a crack in her armor, but she had only ever given me calm indifference in return.
I turned away, the weight of the coming days pressing heavily on my shoulders. Elara's commemoration would be our next battlefield, a place where old wounds would be laid bare for all to see.
And as the day drew closer, I could feel the storm building—a tension that simmered beneath the surface, a silent promise of the reckoning that was yet to come.
For now, I would wait. I would watch. And I would find the leverage I needed to destroy the Montclairs, even if it meant turning my own marriage into a weapon against them.
The waiting game had only just begun.
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