UNKNOWN POV;
The shadows twisted across the dimly lit hall, dancing as if they, too, sensed the magnitude of what was to come. For a decade, I had waited, each passing day sharpening my resolve, my patience a weapon honed against time itself. In the endless silence, I could feel her presence as vividly as if she were standing before me, though I had yet to touch her. She was mine, destined, her existence woven into my every plan. Soon, she would stand at my side, her power amplifying my own, and together, we would rule.
The echo of footsteps broke through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. I didn't need to look up to know who it was—my second in command, Drake, a man fiercely loyal yet prone to that dangerous curiosity. Today, I could sense that his questions would not be the usual ones, and that piqued my interest. He was trying to hide his hesitation, but I knew him too well.
"My lord…" His voice held the barest trace of uncertainty, an almost imperceptible tremor.
I let him continue, my gaze fixed on the shadows that moved along the walls as if in anticipation. His question hung between us, daring yet cautious. "Are we just going to let him have her?"
I almost laughed, though the sound would have been too cold, too filled with derision to be mistaken for amusement. Let him have her? Zale, who thought he could simply claim her, as if she were his to take? He had no idea. He hadn't spent years searching for the lost goddess, hadn't felt the pull of her existence across distance and time. He did not know that she was bound to me by something far more powerful than fate.
"Do you know the most valuable trait a man can possess, Drake?" I asked, letting the words flow out in a low, even tone. I wanted to see if he could grasp the weight of what I was about to say.
He hesitated, choosing his answer carefully, though he must have known I expected only one response. "Patience?"
"Correct." The word slipped from my mouth, calm and composed, though the intensity within it made Drake shift uneasily. "Let them waste the time I have given them, Drake. Soon, she will be mine. She will stand beside me, my queen, the power that will elevate us above every realm."
I could see his discomfort growing. He knew I had waited for years, calculated each move, and yet he still hesitated, as though he questioned the truth I had laid out before him. "My lord…" he began, his voice thin, wary, but I allowed him this moment to speak freely, curious about what he would dare ask. "Can I… may I ask you something?"
I gave him a slight nod. "Go ahead, Drake."
He shifted, his gaze lingering on the floor before he finally looked up, though he avoided my eyes. "It's just… she looks like the goddess, yes, but… could it be only a resemblance? After all, she's just… human."
The room turned colder, an icy stillness descending upon us. My eyes met his, and I could see the fear in his gaze, a fear he tried desperately to suppress. Just human? The audacity. The sheer ignorance. Did he truly think I would waste years, chase shadows, and endure silence on a mere resemblance?
"Drake," I said softly, though each word carried the weight of a thousand storms. "Do you think me a fool?"
He paled, words caught in his throat as he sank to his knees. "I—I'm sorry, my lord," he stammered, bowing so low he nearly touched the cold stone floor.
"Rise," I commanded, my voice cutting through the heavy silence. He obeyed, his head bowed, too terrified to meet my gaze. A subtle smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth; it amused me to see him tremble. After a decade of devotion, he should have known better than to question my certainty.
Drake's discomfort grew as he struggled with his next question. His words were cautious, each syllable carefully chosen. "What about… the Mistress, my lord?"
Ah, the Mistress. Her presence was still fresh in my mind, her loyalty unwavering. But the girl—the goddess—was beyond her. If she truly was the one I sought, if she held that lost power within her, there would be no need for the Mistress. Yet… it was interesting to let Drake try and navigate this minefield of questions, to see how he would approach the matter that was clearly troubling him.
"Oh, Drake…" I replied, my voice dropping into a tone that bordered on mockery. "If the Mistress wishes to remain by my side, she may. If she does not, she can leave, and perhaps then you can have her. She is no goddess. She does not matter to me."
Drake paled further, his face a mask of horror as he quickly sank to his knees again. "I would never dare, my lord," he whispered, voice shaking with fear.
"Look at me." The command was calm, but the steel beneath it made him shudder. Slowly, he lifted his head, his gaze reluctant.
"If she remains, she will be my second. If not, she will be nothing to me. Her choice," I said, the words smooth and without hesitation. "But know this, Drake: the goddess is mine. Nothing—no one—will take her from me."
"Yes, my lord," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. The look of relief in his eyes was almost comical as he realized I would not punish him further.
"Good," I said, allowing the darkness to settle back into place. "Now, send someone to watch Zale's every move. I will be visiting him soon enough."
Drake nodded, stumbling slightly as he retreated, grateful to leave my presence. His footsteps faded, swallowed by the shadows that had witnessed so much in this hall, and I found myself once again alone, my thoughts fixed on her. The lost goddess, the chosen queen. Ten years I had waited, endured the hollow ache of that absence, each day fueling the anticipation that now felt ready to burst.
A quiet laugh escaped my lips, filling the silence—a sound both triumphant and sinister, reverberating through the empty hall. Ten long years of strategy, of patience, and now she was so close. Soon, she would be beside me, bound to me as I claimed what was mine.
The shadows whispered in agreement as I spoke to the empty air, feeling her presence, her destiny calling to me across the distance. "Wait for me, my love. I am coming for you soon."