CHAPTER 4: Shadows of the Past

~Dale

The palace grounds were crowded today, throngs of citizens gathered in the square to pay their respects. It was the tenth anniversary of Elara's death—a solemn commemoration that always managed to stir up the kingdom's grief and unresolved anger. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the low hum of prayers that reverberated through the stone walls of Vaeloris' grand cathedral.

I stood at the forefront, my father and mother beside me, our family bearing the weight of the kingdom's collective mourning. My eyes scanned the crowd, lingering momentarily on Gray who stood a few paces behind us, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. A part of me resented her presence here, among the people who still cried for justice for my sister. How dare she stand there, representing the bloodline that had a hand in covering up Elara's death?

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to breathe through the simmering rage that threatened to consume me. Today was not the day for confrontation. Today was for Elara.

As the priest concluded his prayers, my father, King Gregor, stepped forward to address the crowd. "Today, we remember Princess Elara," his voice boomed, steady and commanding. "We honor her light, her kindness, and the legacy she left behind. Though she was taken from us far too soon, we must not let her spirit fade."

The people responded with fervent applause, their eyes glistening with unshed tears. My mother, Queen Amara, dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, her grief as raw as it had been a decade ago.

And then, the announcement came.

"As part of my daughter's enduring legacy, I am pleased to announce that the Elara Memorial Hospital will be fully operational within three months," my father continued. "We are proud to appoint Princess Gail Raven, one of the most distinguished doctors in the state, as the head of the OR department."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, some gasps of approval, others tinged with curiosity and excitement. My jaw tightened. I hadn't seen that coming, and from the look on Gray's face, neither had she.

Gray stood frozen for a moment, her eyes widening just slightly—a rare crack in her usually stoic demeanor. But she quickly regained her composure, offering a polite nod to acknowledge the king's words.

Of course, the whispers among the crowd grew louder. I could hear them, the excitement, the relief. The multi-awarded surgeon? Leading a hospital named after our beloved princess? They couldn't hide their excitement, absolutely seeing her very competent.

I turned to catch her eye, expecting to see defiance or irritation. Instead, there was something else there—something like resignation, as if this appointment was nothing more than another burden she had to bear.

---

Later that night, in our chambers…

I slammed the door shut behind me, the echo reverberating through the room. "Were you aware of this?" I snapped, unable to hold back the anger that had been simmering all day.

Gray, who was in the process of removing the elaborate pins from her hair, paused to look at me. "No, I wasn't," she replied evenly, her tone calm, almost detached. "I was just as surprised as you were."

"Surprised? Or are you simply pretending to be?" I stepped closer, narrowing my eyes at her. "How convenient that you've been handed a position of power in a hospital that bears my sister's name."

Her gaze hardened slightly, but she kept her composure. "If you think I had anything to do with this decision, you're mistaken. I was never consulted."

I let out a bitter laugh. "How am I supposed to believe that? Your family is known for its manipulation and deceit. You'll do anything to claw your way into positions of influence."

She set the hairpins down carefully on the vanity, turning to face me fully. "I am not my family, Dale. And I have no interest in using this appointment for anything other than what it was intended for—saving lives."

"Do you even realize how inappropriate it is?" I shot back, my voice rising. "You, a Montclair, heading the very institution meant to honor my sister's memory?"

Her eyes flashed with a rare spark of anger, but she remained maddeningly composed. "I understand your reservations. But if your father has entrusted me with this role, I will not refuse. I will do my job to the best of my ability. Or you could do the honor of convincing your father to retract his statement"

"You don't belong there," I hissed, the words dripping with venom. "And you don't belong here, in this palace, in my life."

Her expression softened for a brief moment, something like hurt flashing in her eyes, but it was gone before I could register it. "You're entitled to your hatred, Dale. But don't let it blind you to the truth."

I scoffed, turning away from her. "I'm done with this conversation."

Without another word, she gathered her things and walked out, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. The slam of the guest room door a few minutes later was the only indication that she had finally allowed herself to react.

---

~Gray

I am four years old again, the corridors of the palace towering around me like the walls of a labyrinth. I can hear my mother's laughter in the distance, a sound that once brought me comfort. I follow it, my tiny feet padding silently across the cold marble floor, but I can never reach her.

The laughter turns into a scream, a blood-curdling cry that chills me to the bone. I run faster, my heart pounding in my chest, but all I find is emptiness.

"Mommy!" I call out, but my voice echoes back at me, hollow and mocking. The corridors stretch endlessly, twisting and turning, leading me nowhere. And then, I see it—a door, slightly ajar, a shadow creeping from the other side.

I push it open with trembling hands, expecting to see her smiling face. Instead, there is nothing but darkness, an abyss that swallows me whole.

"Where are you, Mommy?" I whisper, my voice shaking. But there is no answer, only the sound of my own sobs as I fall to my knees. The darkness closes in, suffocating me, and I wake up with a gasp.

---

I sat up, my heart racing, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to me. It was always the same—the haunting echoes of my mother's laughter, her sudden disappearance, the darkness that had taken her away. They had told me she was dead, but there had never been a body, never any closure. Just another mystery, another shadow in a life filled with unanswered questions.

But there was something else, something I had to remember. I closed my eyes, willing the images to come back. The nightmare had been so vivid, every detail crystal clear, as if it were happening right in front of me.

But the answers remained elusive, hidden behind the fog of memory and time. I let out a shaky breath, knowing that sleep would not come again tonight.

There were too many questions, too many secrets buried in the past. And I would find them, even if it meant uncovering truths I wasn't ready to face.

---

~Dale

The guest room door remained shut the next morning, a silent testament to the rift that had only deepened between us.

But I couldn't dwell on it, not when the shadows of the past were closing in from every side. The commemoration had stirred more than just old memories—it had set into motion a series of events that neither of us could control.

And as I stood before the portrait of my sister, I made a silent vow.

Justice would be served, one way or another. And if Gail Raven Yrenea Montclair was part of the solution—or the problem—only time would tell.