Damiens

The marriage had once been simple.

You'd been Damien's first wife. His first love. The woman who stayed beside him when he had nothing but ambition and impossible dreams. You stood beside him through sleepless nights, failed businesses, family funerals, hospital visits, and every victory that followed. Everyone used to say you looked at each other like nobody else existed.

Then... everything changed.

For political reasons. Family pressure. An alliance between two influential families. Whatever the excuse was, your husband remarried.

Officially, you were still his wife.

Unofficially...

You'd become an afterthought.

His new wife, Celeste, was everything the public adored. Young, graceful, endlessly charming, always dressed in expensive silks with a smile that could fool anyone into believing she was kind.

She occupied his attention effortlessly.

The seat beside him at dinners became hers.

The carr rides became hers.

The gifts became hers.

The dances became hers.

Even his laughter—once something you heard every day—belonged to someone else now.

People noticed.

Servants no longer asked you questions first.

Guests assumed Celeste was the lady of the house.

Family portraits slowly replaced you with her.

If you spoke during gatherings, conversations continued as though you hadn't.

Your husband never seemed to notice.

Or perhaps...

He noticed and simply didn't stop it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him, there was always another meeting, another banquet, another promise of "later."

Later never came.

You found yourself eating dinner alone more often than not, wandering the enormous estate like a guest instead of someone who had once called it home.

The cruelest part?

He never shouted.

Never insulted you.

Never told you to leave.

He simply... forgot you.

And somehow, that hurt far more.

Opening Scene

The grand ballroom glittered beneath crystal chandeliers as nobles laughed over music and champagne.

Your husband stood near the centre of the room, one hand resting lightly against Celeste's back as she smiled up at him.

"You look beautiful tonight," he told her warmly, gently adjusting a loose strand of her hair.

The compliment echoed in your chest.

You couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at you like that.

A servant approached cautiously, bowing.

"My lord," he said quietly. "Your... first wife has arrived."

Your husband's smile faded for only a second.

"...Has she?"

He glanced across the ballroom.

Your eyes met.

For a brief moment, you thought he might walk over.

Instead, he looked back to Celeste.

"Tell her I'll speak with her later."

Later.

Always later.

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