My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 300: Scared of Comfort

Chapter 300: Scared of Comfort

Send a letter Leonor did.

Feeling a bit cruel to be sending a letter in the middle of the night, Leonor paid a messenger extra to go to Count Braulio’s home in the capital. She hoped she wasn’t bothering him, but, after talking to Stephano, she decided it was time to live her life as she wanted to.

Uncovering the mysteries of her life was what she wanted to do. She felt that she wouldn’t be happy until she knew everything there was to know and she finally had the permission to do just that.

What Leonor wasn’t expecting, however, was to wake up mid-morning and find a response from Count Braulio de Marro on a silver tray as she ate breakfast. The maid placed the tray down and she hesitated with a trembling hand outstretched above the envelope.

He went so far as to send it in an envelope.

Her finger met the edge of the off-white paper and she realized it was good quality. There was a wax seal that likely showed the coat of arms for de Marro. She wondered how long before the wax had been melted considering how fast the man responded.

What she was most shocked about was the amount of care that went into a response.

Her inquiries only needed a few words, but the count did so much more than that. Each detail felt unbelievably intentional.

Her heart ached at the thought of tearing apart her life as she knew it.

That was how she wound up in one of the intricately decorated sitting rooms in the Queen’s Palace with preparations for tea being made in front of her.

She had arrived early due to nerves and the maids seemed to fuss even worse than normal with her attention on them. It wasn’t what she meant to do but she felt too restless to stay in her room for longer.

"Would you like tea, Your Grace?" Beth asked.

Leonor shook her head and tried to offer a smile that seemed calmer than the storm in her heart.

"No, thank you," she responded. "I will wait for my guest."

Even then, Leonor didn’t sit for long and she wandered to a window that overlooked the trees off of the back of the Queen’s Palace. They were so densely packed in the space that one might think they were looking into a deep forest while they were, in fact, at the center of the largest city in Castille.

The urge to run towards the trees and disappear to escape the adult decisions she was making despite having what felt like an immature heart. She wasn’t tough enough to face someone who was going to thrash her feelings she didn’t know how to protect.

She had hardened herself to the man she thought was her father so he couldn’t affect her. However, finding out that someone else may in fact truly be her father took all of her defenses down and she was entirely unsure of how she might respond.

"Your Grace."

Her heart began racing at a voice she wasn’t so familiar with.

She tried to display the practiced poise a duchess was supposed to have but she could feel her hands shaking as she clasped them behind her dress, hidden behind the skirts that covered her lower half.

The dress she chose that day was modest and warm. It wasn’t overly extravagant but it showed that she wasn’t insignificant. She wore it like armor, hoping it would help her–not knowing how it actually could.

"My lord," Leonor greeted and she bowed her head. "Thank you for responding so quickly to my letter. I hope I wasn’t overstepping by assuming your willingness to visit the Queen’s Palace while I’m a guest here was your acceptance to drink tea with me."

Leonor walked to the two chairs and table where the spread had been set up. She sat down and gestured for the count to do the same.

"Without hesitation," the count responded. "I have spent much of winter waiting around for the next steps on King Stephano’s order."

There was a known undertone to everyone’s words. The possible war was looming just as possible peace. The kingdom could be hurt while they could also be the ones who did the hurting.

The kingdom was stuck in an unknown state just as Leonor was at that moment.

Beth returned after the man had sat down and she began filling the teacups up without a sound. The finely crafted porcelain teapot didn’t even allow for a drop of tea to be wasted.

"Anything else, Your Grace?" she asked politely.

"Nothing at the moment."

Beth made herself scarce knowing Leonor requested them be left alone prior to the man’s arrival.

"This tea is aromatic," Leonor explained. "It’s dark with almost a licorice flavor. It’s quite common in–"

"Dacoria," the count interrupted, but it was so gentle Leonor didn’t find it rude. "I remember the aroma. The moment it was poured, I was momentarily taken back to that kingdom. I spent quite a few years there."

Leonor couldn’t keep eye contact and her blue eyes dropped to the cup in front of her where the deep liquid sat, emanating a scent that reminded her of her mother. Lilacs weren’t the only thing that did that for her.

Growing up was being able to separate the good from the bad memories so her mother could live on somehow.

"Where you and my mother were... married?" she finally asked.

"You have been speaking to His Majesty," the count responded and took a light sip of his tea.

He confirmed it without needing to verbalize it.

"He was the reason I wanted to talk to you today, my lord," Leonor admitted. "He told me that you’re intent on bringing the situation to light. Why is that?"

She gained the courage to lift her eyes, only to be met with ones that matched hers so well. It was almost undeniable truth, but her feelings were still raw.

"Until I crossed paths with you in the main palace, I didn’t know I had a daughter," he admitted. "My eyes and Jara’s face–I couldn’t believe it. In my opinion, there’s no denying it. I know Count Mikael and he is shrewd in business and politics but likely a fine father. However, I want you to know that I am insistent that any wrongs be righted. That my only excuse is not knowing of your existence. Now that the late King is no longer, I feel emboldened to extend my hand to you and at least be someone distantly supportive. If you would allow me that–"

However, what Braulio wasn’t expecting was the duchess’ hands to go to her face in embarrassment as tears escaped her eyes all on their own. She knew she wouldn’t have enough composure to face the conversation they were having.

Braulio wasn’t just a man, but he was a father beyond Leonor and had a heart to prove it.

Seeing the duchess cry for reasons he didn’t understand, he couldn’t merely sit back. He went to her side and placed a hand on the back of her shoulder. He wouldn’t overstep more than that even though he wanted to hug her.

For the first time, Leonor had a man who claimed to be her father not turning away in disgust when she showed such weakness and the tears didn’t want to stop. She didn’t know the man enough to be making such extreme claims