My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 259: A Walk Turns Into...

Chapter 259: A Walk Turns Into...

Suddenly, the issue of her father and sister coming to the capital felt less important. The issue of two people dear to her was distracting her enough to forget the anxiety momentarily.

Considering the carefulness of the two mages, Leonor had a hard time believing that the wounds from their spar were the normal outcome.

As she quietly sipped the dark wine served with their dinner of steak and vegetables, she couldn’t help her eyes drifting between the two men across from her and Desmond. She would politely tap her lips on a napkin afterward and look away.

Considering each time a mana ball would get close to her face and Quinn would direct it away, the scratches on the King’s face didn’t make any sense. What could have happened to make both of them so intense with their attacking?

She had to keep herself from tapping the table with her finger or foot on the polished wood underneath the table or she could be seen as improper. However, her restlessness would be assuaged by thinking of things and not asking.

Then there was Quinn who had a large bruise on his jaw that seemed to be perfectly the side of a fist.

She wondered who was on offense and who was on defense. Not necessarily in a mana category sense but their methods of fighting led with emotions. They were both frustrated at each other for various reasons.

Despite Stephano asking them to eat with him, there was uncomfortable silence and it only made Leonor’s worries grow.

Their plates were taken and dessert was set on the table. It was a small helping of some sort of peach cobbler and Leonor’s fork poked through the baked fruits. She could only eat half before her curiosity got the best of her.

"Your Majesty, would you like to go on a walk with me through the palace since it’s a bit too cold to go outside?" she asked.

Stephano’s eyes drifted to Desmond who was side-eyeing his wife. A smirk appeared on the confident King’s scratched-up face.

"Your Grace, would that be alright with you?" he asked, his tone taking on a mocking edge. "I promise it’s her idea and not mine."

Leonor put her hand over Desmond’s.

"Perhaps you and Quinn can go enjoy the library for a little while," Leonor gently suggested, hoping Desmond would realize she was plotting something by asking the King to step away with her.

Desmond pointedly lifted Leonor’s hand and brought it to his lips.

"I would like to see the mage’s quarter," Desmond admitted. "Perhaps Quinn can tell me stories of my wife from her younger years."

"I would be the one best equipped for that," Quinn admitted. "My study has a library of its own that even those uninterested in magic may find interesting enough."

Quinn seemed pleased enough with the arrangement and Leonor had to hold back a nasty comment. She didn’t particularly want her husband around someone who saw her at her worst multiple times.

"I’m sure this won’t come back to bite me," Leonor uttered weakly, knowing she had no other choice but to relent and hope her conversation with Stephano didn’t last for long enough for Quinn to make her seem more flawed for Desmond.

Regardless, the lady stood up, trying to ignore the soreness in her thighs, and Stephano was quick to follow her lead. When he made it to the head of the table, he offered his hand for her to take and he placed it on his arm.

Desmond had long since realized that Stephano was some sort of desire-less being. He had little interest in others especially when it came to romance or carnal pleasures. Perhaps it was a good quality of a king to lack desire or greed, but it made for a seemingly lonely person with no softness around him.

Desmond realized he was far different. He needed all the passion injected into his life by the love he and Leonor shared.

He wondered miserably if Stephano simply needed to find the right person to unlock that within him as well. Perhaps there was a heartbreak he kept hidden from everyone. He was so closed off about that aspect of himself, that Desmond could only wonder.

If Leonor could do anything, it would be to melt someone down until they came clean with her about their heart. Instincts told Desmond that what was within Stephano’s heart wasn’t Leonor so he trusted them to talk to one another as they always had.

Leonor’s heart was in his pocket, after all. He had to remind himself often of this fact and give her the respect of someone who had given herself fully to him. She chased away his pessimistic nature.

Stephano and Leonor left the dining hall and started wandering towards a part of the palace that was closed off to visitors and only open for chosen guests and the Royal Family.

"We don’t have to go this way," Leonor resisted. "I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality."

"On the chance that there are still nobles wandering about the public palace, I would prefer to walk around these halls," Stephano admitted. "It would be much less scandalous that way, don’t you think?"

Leonor looked up at his scratched face and had to sigh lightly.

"You really know how to make a lasting impression," she said. "The only way I got away from rumors that you and I were lovers was getting married to Desmond. However, with the secrets of nobles floating just under the surface, I imagine some out there would still consider our relationship to be uncouth. Please lead the way, Sire."

Stephano groaned particularly dramatically at Leonor’s usage of "sire".

"You know what?" he asked. "I’m going to make you my drinking partner this evening because of that. Say Stephano."

Leonor cringed at him, resistant to the thought of sharing a drink with the King and calling him by his name. Knowing how much more he could drink than her, she would become a problem for Desmond later.

At least if they were in the private halls, no one would have to hear her call the King by name as if she were somebody important enough for that.

"Stephano," she relented, though her voice had a warning edge to it.

He took her hand off of his arm but didn’t let it go and he ran forward relentlessly.

Normally she might find it funny but her burning thighs and arm as she lifted her dress so she wouldn’t trip were screaming at her to stop.

Despite her low pain tolerance, she bit her lip and allowed him to lead her wherever.

A maid seemed shocked as the two rounded a corner.

"I need alcohol in the tower," Stephano said. "Hurry."

Soon they got to the end of the long hallway and she realized they were at a conjecture that boasted a large bastion that pointed to the sky. When the kingdom was forming and the war was more prevalent, such a structure was necessary to shoot down invaders, but it seemed that it had been turned into something else.

With each burning step as her leg resisted, they made it up a winding staircase and into a tower. Stephano let go of her hand when she knew which direction they were headed and she was able to hold her skirts with two burning arms.

When they finally reached the top, she was struck by how cold it was.

Stephano was quick to start a fire.

The fireplace was in the center of the room and underneath a large metal tube that went to the ceiling to release the smoke into the sky. Around the fire were a few comfortable chairs and lining the wall were shelves filled with books or various other artifacts. Each shelf was built around the tall, thin windows that lined the walls.

Leonor could see bits of the last of the sunset and purple dusk as it set in.

"The King lighting a fire for me..." she uttered in disbelief, holding her arms so she would stay warm.

"I’m not the King," he insisted. "I’m your idiot friend from the Academy and nothing more than that."

Once the fire was started and the small room started warming up, Leonor took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs. A maid soon arrived with a dark green bottle full of red wine and two glasses.

She excused herself quickly, making sure to keep her expression in check despite how curious she was over His Majesty and the duchess spending time in a private setting. Yet she was paid enough that this secret would never leave her lips. Her loyalty to Stephano’s family was common in the maids he allowed to serve them in the private areas of the palace.

Stephano poured them alcohol and Leonor waved her hands at him, insisting he was filling it up far too much.

At the depth of his pour, she decided to nurse the drink. Only one would be enough. She couldn’t refuse him and took the glass.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Leonor?" he asked.

"I’ll only tell you if you first tell me what happened between you and Quinn to make your appearances so... peculiar," she said, picking her words carefully.