Chapter 39: A Quiet Respite

The first rays of dawn filtered through the drawn curtains of Dale's private room, casting soft light over his resting figure. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor punctuated the serene quiet of the room. Gray sat in a chair beside the bed, her posture relaxed but alert. She had hardly left his side, only stepping out briefly for rounds or necessary tasks. Even now, with Dale still unconscious, she kept a careful watch, her hand resting lightly on the edge of his blanket.

A soft groan broke the stillness, and Gray's gaze shot to Dale's face. His eyelids fluttered open, his expression dazed as he took in his surroundings. His movements were sluggish, his head turning toward her as if drawn by her presence. 

"Gray?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible. 

Her heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained calm. She leaned forward slightly, her voice steady. "You're awake. That's good. Don't try to move too much; you're still recovering." 

Dale's brows furrowed, confusion clouding his gaze as he tried to piece together what had happened. "The mission... the diplomat?" 

"Safe," Gray assured him. "We completed the extraction, but you were injured during the retreat. You've been out for almost two days." 

His gaze softened, and for a moment, there was an unspoken gratitude in his eyes. "You?" 

"I'm fine," she replied, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. "You're the one we were all worried about." 

It wasn't long before the door to Dale's room swung open, and his family entered. Queen Amara was first, her expression a mixture of relief and maternal concern as she moved to her son's bedside. Mireille followed close behind, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 

"Dale!" Mireille exclaimed, her voice trembling as she hurried to him. "You scared us half to death!" 

Queen Amara placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her gaze searching his face. "How are you feeling, my son?" 

"Weak as hell," Dale admitted, his voice still weak. He glanced between them, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. "But I'm alive. Thanks to Gray." 

Amara turned to Gray, her expression warm. "Dear, I can't thank you enough. You've saved him." 

Gray dipped her head modestly, stepping back to give the family space. "I only did what I had to." 

Soon after, the rest of Dale's close friends and Phantom members trickled in. Rhys, Lira, Blake, Zane, and Gavin filled the room with a mix of teasing and genuine concern. 

"Captain, you've got to stop hogging all the injuries," Rhys joked, a grin spreading across his face. "At this rate, you'll give the rest of us a complex." 

"Or an inferiority complex," Zane added, smirking. "We can't all have our doctor wives save us in the nick of time." 

Gavin chuckled. "Seriously, though, Captain, you're lucky to have someone like Gray watching your back. Not to mention saving it." 

The lighthearted teasing brought a faint flush to Dale's cheeks, though he tried to mask it with a gruff response. "Enough already. Focus on your own missions instead of my injuries." 

But despite his words, a flicker of warmth passed through his eyes as he glanced at Gray who was already exiting his room.

After the King and Prince Lucian paid a brief visit, sharing their relief before leaving for yet another political conference, Queen Amara and Mireille stayed behind. Once Dale had dozed off again, they turned their attention to Gray who came back after visiting Louise in the next room. 

"You've been running yourself ragged," Amara said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "It's time for you to rest, Dear. You've done more than enough here." 

"Mama, I still have rounds to finish," Gray protested lightly, though she was touched by their concern. 

Mireille chimed in, a playful smile on her lips. "You can do that later. After you come home with us. You have to spend time with me now that I'm home. You know I rarely get home now" 

Gray hesitated, glancing back at Dale's sleeping form. 

"He'll be fine," Amara assured her. "You've already ensured that. And besides, we'd like to spend some time with you. Just us girls." 

Gray relented with a small sigh. "All right. But only after I check on one of my patients." 

Together, the three women made their way to Noah's room. The little boy's face lit up when he saw Gray, his spirits visibly lifting as she spoke to him and his parents. Mireille and Amara watched the interaction with soft smiles, their admiration for Gray growing with each passing moment. 

When they arrived at the royal residence, Gray was greeted with a warmth that took her slightly by surprise. Amara led her into the spacious kitchen, her eyes twinkling. "How about we do something simple tonight? Cooking always helps me unwind." 

Mireille grinned. "You're in for it now, Gray. Mommy loves to rope people into her cooking sessions." 

Gray raised an eyebrow, rolling up her sleeves. "I don't mind. What are we making?" 

As they began preparing a variety of dishes, Gray's efficiency and skill in the kitchen quickly became apparent. She moved with precision, chopping vegetables and mixing ingredients with practiced ease. 

Amara paused, watching her with an amused smile. "You're full of surprises, Dear. Where did you learn to cook like that?" 

Gray shrugged lightly. "Here and there. I like being self-sufficient, and cooking is a useful skill." 

Mireille clapped her hands together, clearly impressed. "Well, consider me amazed. You're not just a doctor and a sniper—you're a chef, too!" 

Gray chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I wouldn't go that far." 

As they set the table and began plating the food, Amara casually mentioned, "You know, Dale has a weakness for pastries. Always has, ever since he was a child." 

Gray froze for a moment, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly masked her surprise. "I didn't know that." 

Mireille laughed. "Oh, it's true. Anything sweet, really. But pastries are his favorite. You should see him when there's a fresh batch around—he lights up like a kid in a candy shop. He can't resist them. Especially anything with cream or chocolate." 

Gray's lips pressed into a thin line, her mind racing. She hadn't known this about him, and it was such a small, simple thing, but it struck her in a way she hadn't expected. She had spent so much time focusing on their differences, on the tension between them, that she had forgotten to notice the little things. 

"I'll keep that in mind," she said quietly, her voice steady but tinged with something softer. 

The Queen and Mireille exchanged a glance, both of them smiling. 

That night, as Gray retired to her guest room, the thought of pastries lingered in her mind. It wasn't much, but it was a start—a small, sweet glimpse into the man she had married, and the love she still held for him, despite everything. 

As the evening wound down, the three women shared a peaceful meal together, their laughter filling the space. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Gray allowed herself to relax, to enjoy the company of the people who had become her family. 

In the back of her mind, she thought of Dale, resting in his hospital bed. She would return to him soon, ready to face whatever came next. 

But for now, she allowed herself this moment of calm—a reminder that even in the midst of chaos, there was still room for warmth and connection.