My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 237: An Attempt at Casual Conversation

Chapter 237: An Attempt at Casual Conversation

The moment Leonor and Quinn were out of the throne room and elsewhere, Stephano’s face hardened when it was only him, the duke, and a few guards left. His mood to joke was fleeting.

"Shall we go into my study?" King Stephano asked although he wasn’t really asking. His tone and expression communicated as much. "I would feel more at ease in a smaller space."

Desmond nodded.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Desmond said.

As they went down a long hallway boasting fine art and pristinely taken care of space, crystal windows, lit-up chandeliers, and intricate rugs, it would seem that King Stephano was flexing the wealth of the Royal Family.

However, Desmond knew that wasn’t the case. After living in the palace for months, he knew that every inch of the space was well taken care of. There was staff for every task that needed to be done and help was constantly around the corner.

Such a place didn’t allow for much privacy and he didn’t know how Stephano handled such an environment when he was a man with a few of his own secrets and desire to escape others–as proven by his escape to Montclair.

They made it to the study and Stephano asked his guards to fall back, relieving them of their posts. Their hesitance was noticed, but they couldn’t go against their ruler.

Stephano approached his finely carved desk and ran his hand over the polished wood on the top before he sat down in the cushioned chair on the other side of it.

His golden eyes observed Desmond shut the door and press his hand against the solid wood for a few moments before he turned around to approach the King. It was clear the duke knew that the topics they would be covering would be heavy.

Desmond wasn’t the only one dreading the talks they would have as they tried to figure out how to go forward. King Stephano didn’t know how to be objective for his kingdom while keeping the war hero’s best interests at heart.

The duke removed his hood and unclasped his cloak, tossing it onto the couch he passed by before making it to Stephano’s desk and taking a seat on the chair across from him.

"There must be a good reason you made me come all this way, Your Majesty," Desmond said as he sat up straighter and gave the young monarch his full attention.

"Ah..."

It seemed Stephano wasn’t quite finished playing with Desmond because he opened a drawer in his desk and rummaged around for a moment. There was an evident clanking of glass and, before Desmond could question the King’s actions, two tumblers and a decanter of something dark brown were on the table between them.

Stephano opened the bottle and poured them both a bit of the liquid.

"I need you to stop talking to me not as your King but as your friend," Stephano said with his voice quiet but sharp.

He slid one of the glasses to Desmond and settled back into the comfortable chair, bringing his own glass to his lips and his eyes boring into Desmond as he spun around the liquid in his glass, causing a strong biting scent to hit his nose.

"What are you giving me?" Desmond asked.

"Something strong from overseas," Stephano admitted. "Something that put my father halfway into his grave before I could finish the job."

Desmond grimaced slightly as he brought his glass towards his face. Whether it be from the scent wafting to his nose or Stephano’s comment was undetermined.

"Since you’re the host, you speak first Stephano," Desmond said, emphasizing the fact that he was using his name rather than his title.

Before more could be said, Stephano was the first to drink the liquid and he bore his teeth. It was no wonder his father cherished that stuff so much. You could practically get drunk from the smell alone.

Desmond followed suit, not wanting to be rude by letting the drink go to waste. He might as well loosen up if the conversation would go awry.

He realized quickly that Stephano’s grimace wasn’t without warrant. The drink was strong. He would only be having one glass of the stuff.

"I don’t know how to preserve Eirenguardian lives when Castillian lives are at stake," Stephano admitted abruptly, wearing an expression that showed just how burdened he was by this. "I’ve seen the reports of what my father’s soldiers did to your people and I am determined for history not to repeat itself. With the way the aged soldiers in this army have been trained, they will brutalize the opposing side with a smile. Considering Eirenguard’s likely weakened state, there’s not a chance they won’t be in ruin afterwards."

Stephano purposefully put it all on the table.

There wasn’t anything he wanted to hide from Desmond regarding that matter. He called him so urgently because he needed advice on how to proceed. The highest officers in all of the army were nearby and awaiting instruction while their lower officers and foot soldiers headed towards various borders if the dukes or counts in those regions weren’t putting their own armies forth.

"The Eirenguardian people are beyond the point of diplomacy," Desmond explained, knowing he was pointing out the obvious. "Unless you’re planning on throwing unbelievable amounts of money at them or making reparations based on the treaties broken by the unwarranted invasion, I don’t believe they will second guess plans that are already in the works."

Stephano sighed and shook his head.

"I understand that very well," he admitted. "I don’t believe emptying the kingdom’s treasury on this problem will solve anything when lives were lost. That’s why I need your advice. You have the most relevant connection to that place."

Desmond took a sip of the liquid once more, finding it easier to palate since his mouth was primed to it.

"That place is no longer my home," he admitted. "I haven’t been there in nearly two decades. Being only a child there, I didn’t understand the workings of the kingdom. I knew of a cushioned life until it was ripped cruelly out of my hands and I watched my family get murdered and thrown on a campfire as if they were kindling and not humans."

Stephano nodded slowly.

"I understand that," he said. "That is why I’m seeking the help of someone with such raw emotions regarding the matter. I want to be persuaded by your emotions that are still very obviously connected to that place. That will be my compass when I am feeling I’m off track."

"Fair enough," Desmond admitted a bit shortly, hating to realize he was responding emotionally.

There was a short lull as they both pulled themselves together and the duke waited for what the king wanted to say

"I understand this identity that we built together is important to you, but you are powerful enough that it no longer matters," Stephano said, revealing more of his cards. "I don’t want you to face combat, but I feel you will be valuable as a diplomat in this fight."