My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 293: Straying Care

Chapter 293: Straying Care

"A bit early, don’t you think, Your Majesty," Desmond observed in a mocking tone as he entered one of the sitting rooms in the estate they were staying in for the time being.

Stephano sat beside a fireplace, staring into flames that matched his eyes. He had a heavy bottom glass full of something strong. It probably tasted like poison, in Desmond’s opinion, but Stephano could look past it depending on his mood. The King was sleep-deprived and hoped it helped knock him out early before he had to make serious decisions.

"Are you here to comfort me or piss me off?" Stephano asked.

Desmond didn’t know what specifically had put the monarch in such a sour mood, but he was willing to talk him through it. He was there to search for information anyway.

"Whatever you need, I’ll be that," Desmond said.

Stephano motioned for the other man to sit in the chair next to him.

As Desmond took a seat, he angled the chair away from the roaring fire. It was too warm for him and it made him uncomfortable to sit close to it anyway.

"What will happen to Burien if the count never wakes up?" Desmond asked after a long silence.

"There are family members who ought to be considered for the line of succession, but all they have done is leech off of Burien’s wealth without lifting a finger of their own," Stephano explained. "Everyone assumed that the situation of an heir was solved when the count had two children. I would hate to give the seat to someone unqualified considering the importance of having someone strong in a border county. Even though Mikael is an asshole, he knows what he’s doing."

Desmond let out an even sigh. He didn’t want to admit that Stephano was right. Even though Desmond hated the count with his entire being, the man had never shown weakness until recent times when he seemed unstable. The involvement of black magic in the situation made a lot of sense.

"All Leonor’s life, do you think he knew?" Desmond asked, practically whispering. "Was Leonor always a symbol of something he could never have with his wife? Leonor had already told me before that her mother admitted to loving another. It was Leonor’s biggest fear to be married off in such a way... For a long time, she thought that was the case."

Guilt that he had conveniently pushed deep down into his consciousness welled up and the duke stood up quickly and reached for the glass in the King’s hands, not caring how improper it was.

"I see a second glass," he uttered and drank down the dark liquid quickly.

It burned all the way down his throat. Why someone would want to put themselves through the feeling of swallowing fire was beyond him.

Stephano smirked and simply topped off the other cup considering the bottle of the alcohol was on the table next to him. He requested a maid leave it. He hoped someone would join him but he didn’t put all of his hope into that.

However, Desmond’s presence seemed to come at a price. The man was clearly seeking information for his wife who had been wronged and it was more than understandable.

The duke settled down in the chair and pulled off his hood. The fire was making him more warm than he wanted to be at that moment. Since he traveled light, his only cloak was thick. Even though he didn’t want to appear in front of others with his pathetic patches of hair showing, it was necessary if he didn’t want to overheat.

Stephano’s golden eyes drifted over his trusted friend.

"The things you’re doing for a kingdom that doesn’t deserve your service..." Stephano uttered. "I remember watching you stare at yourself in the mirror and viciously shave your barely healed skin because the sight of your patchy hair disgusted you so much."

"These pathetic strands of hair will be gone the moment I no longer have to deal with Eirenguard," Desmond insisted. "I am simply at a place in my life where I don’t feel my wife will leave me if I present her with a hopelessly ugly appearance. She won’t run in the opposite direction."

"You both disgust me no matter what you look like," Stephano taunted and downed more of his drink.

As much as the King hated to admit it, thinking about his friends brought him thoughts he had been having about Quinn. From the moment he saw Desmond, he had tried to resist them but there was nothing else but to face them.

He wondered how he could ask about the mage without alerting Desmond that there was something more below the surface.

Despite his agonizing over how to ask it, it still came out wrong.

"You left Quinn with that Eirenguardian?" Stephano asked.

Desmond’s laugh was taunting and Stephano felt heat rise in his head.

"Technically speaking, you left him with two Eirenguardians," Desmond corrected him. "I think he will survive. He seems to have taken a liking to Sir Cian and there are people there more curious than they are mistrustful about him. He is the only reason I was able to leave. The two of them assured me they would figure out a way to excuse my absence when their commander returned."

Worry rose in Stephano’s heart despite it only having been a couple of days since he last heard from the silver-haired mage. They could send familiars to one another easily but it didn’t take away the fact that they had done something that would irreversibly change the course of their relationship for the rest of their lives, only for Quinn to leave a day after that.

Stephano didn’t know how to handle a feeling such as that. He had been reading to occupy his mind and discovered a bit about yearning. Perhaps that’s what he was feeling, he decided.

"When will you return?" Stephano wondered, trying to sift through his thoughts and say something that wouldn’t give him away.

The King realized he should be asking more about the front lines rather than about Quinn or Leonor. He justified his actions because he often received detailed updates from Desmond through the help of Quinn’s familiar, he needed to behave as the King rather than what he was doing.

"I have to know Leonor is well enough to receive a stern warning from me that she shouldn’t have left the palace at all, just as I requested," Desmond uttered. "I seem to not be able to control my wife."

"You would be bored if you had a wife who was easy to control," Stephano shot back with a smirk.

"You’re unfortunately right about that," Desmond smiled faintly. "Except this sort of woman keeps getting herself hurt and I’m not sure how much more I can take before I decide to imprison her in Montclair."

"If she heard you say that she would be irritated," Stephano warned.

"Perhaps if you were in love with someone as infuriatingly hard to control as my wife, you would understand," Desmond uttered and finished off his drink.

Stephano’s smile became wry. He did the same.

Before more could be said, a servant came into the room.

"The count has woken up," she said.