A Bride for the Desert King | Crocodile

Chapter 4: Chessboard

The villa's dining room was bathed in a soft glow, the silver cutlery the only sound punctuating the silence. Crocodile and Sineka sat across from each other, the tension in the air palpable. The vintage clock on the wall ticked away, marking the passage of time in a space where words hung heavy.Sineka, her honey-coloured gown symbolised resilience, maintained a composed exterior. Her eyes, however, held a hint of curiosity as she observed Crocodile, a man of mystery and calculated moves.

Crocodile raised an eyebrow, "You don't drink or speak much. What do you want, Sineka?"

Calmly lowering her silvers onto the plate, she replied, "An understanding."

Crocodile leaned back, his mind a complex tapestry of thoughts. The Marineford battle replayed in his mind – the cunning manoeuvres, the calculated risks, the alliances and the betrayals. He recounted how he managed to protect his assets by transferring them to cleverly crafted fakes, safeguarding his power even as the world believed he had fallen.

As he navigated the corridors of his memories, a realization struck him. Sineka, with her calm exterior and enigmatic essence, was more than a mere pawn in the game. She wasn't just a marriage of convenience; she represented a calculated move, a strategic choice.

I might have lost everything at Marineford. If I hadn't been smart enough to play my cards right, I'd be nothing.

His eyes flickered with a keen awareness, and a revelation dawned upon him. Sineka, sitting across from him, was not just a choice; she was perhaps his safest bet if he aimed to reclaim the stature he once held.

Sineka interrupted his thoughts, "You seem lost in your world, Crocodile."

Crocodile's gaze met hers, a flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes. He smirked. "Just contemplating the pieces on the chessboard, Miss Duskblade."

Sineka arched an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "I didn't agree to be a piece in your game, Mr. 0."

He leaned back, clearly relaxed in his knowledge. "Nor did I expect you to. But you're here, nonetheless."

The room settled into a silence once again, the air thick with unspoken truths. The silver cutlery continued its dance, each movement echoing the uncharted territory they found themselves in.

Inside Crocodile's mind, the pieces of the puzzle aligned. The Marineford battle was a turning point, and Sineka, with her quiet strength, was an unexpected ally. If he wanted to rebuild, to rise again, perhaps she was not just a pawn but a key player in the game he was yet to unfold.

The silence of the dining room was interrupted as a servant entered, catching both Crocodile and Sineka's attention. The servant hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two before speaking.

"Begging your pardon, Sir Crocodile, Miss Duskblade," the maid greeted, "It seems to be snowing heavily outside, and the roads may not be safe for Miss Duskblade to travel. I thought it would be wise to inform you."

A pause ensued as Crocodile contemplated the information. Sineka's gaze shifted from the servant to Crocodile, a flicker of irritation in her eyes. "I can manage," she declared, "I'll leave now."

Crocodile, however, leaned back in his chair, his expression unchanged. He looked at the servant and nodded. "Prepare a room for Miss Duskblade. Make sure she has everything she might need for the night."

Sineka's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "I appreciate the concern, but I can't stay."

Crocodile would not have that. "It's not a suggestion, Miss Duskblade," he commented calmly. "I won't risk your safety." Sineka opened her mouth to protest, but Crocodile was smooth cut in. He chose to address the servant next. "Ensure the room is well-heated, and provide Miss Duskblade with whatever essentials she requires for the night."

The servant nodded and left the room to fulfill the instructions. Sineka turned her gaze back to Crocodile, her irritation evident. "I can't be held here against my will."

The man smirked. "You're not being held against your will. I'm merely concerned for your safety."

Sineka crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. "I'll take my chances."

Crocodile leaned forward, his words smooth like a balm, "Humor me, Miss Duskblade. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you under my watch."

Reluctantly, Sineka sighed, realizing that arguing further might be futile. She nodded, giving in to the circumstances. "Fine, but only for the night."

"Agreed," he smirked.

The vintage clock continued its steady tick, marking the passage of time as Crocodile and Sineka, bound by circumstance and strategy, navigated the complexities of the dinner table – a microcosm of the intricate dance that awaited them in the uncertain future.