My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 304: One of Us

Chapter 304: One of Us

Desmond was quick to his memories the moment he regained consciousness and found himself on a shabby rug lying in front of a man who was using a regular wooden chair like a throne.

He glared up at him with his single ruby-colored eye. He already knew who the man was without needing to be told. The knights he had come across before then were afraid of the man they referred to as commander.

For some reason, seeing a man so war-torn and miserable reminded him of a few brief memories he had from his childhood. Not every Eirenguardian looked the same. Some were rougher around the edges like him. Before Castille invaded, there were wars in the far south but the involvement of knights was entirely voluntary. No one was forced to battle, but Eirenguardians had a sense of pride in their sword fighting abilities.

"You really were an Eirenguardian," the man observed Desmond’s red eye. "Until you let Castille use and abuse you."

Desmond wished he could face the man but getting up while his legs were chained was not feasible. Instead, he used his words as a weapon. It was all he had at that moment since the sword he normally carried was nowhere to be found. It was certain someone had taken it.

"Bhí i gcónaí, tá i gcónaí," Desmond responded.

"How dare you speak the ancient language of a place you turned your back to?" Commander Aidan spat. "You don’t have the right. You should be ashamed of yourself."

The words Desmond uttered were "always were, always is" which were words once used by Eirenguardians who were captured in war. They uttered these words in comfort that, no matter where they ended up, they would always draw from their homeland.

For someone who didn’t know Desmond’s background, it was a complete mockery.

However, it was only a term he got from the expansive libraries in the palace. Surprisingly, there were a few books brought from the southern kingdom during the war and he recognized the phrase.

"I have the right just as any of Eirenguard’s children do," he said. "You are turning away from your own values because of a need for revenge when I know for certain Castille is willing to extend aid and make it possible the kingdom can fall on more comfortable times. From my understanding, the King is not set on conquering like his father was which is why he was the one who took his father off the throne in the first place.

"While you were living guilt-free in Castille, your brothers and sisters suffered," the man continued. "Every scar on your body is justified."

It was hard for Desmond to keep looking up at the man defiantly. He had to rest his head on the ground even though his eye was still gazing at the man.

"I was an orphan when I arrived in Castille," he said. "I was there against my will, unable to stand on my own two feet or even understand I was in a different country. I didn’t receive formal education until I was much older."

He was a well-educated child, then he tried his best in the orphanage. It wasn’t until Stephano and Gideon were molding him into a duke that he was further educated.

"You had plenty of time to return to us but you would rather have an easy life than stand behind your morals."

"So I can be as well-received as I am now?" Desmond asked in disbelief. "Biases will not help move this battle in the direction you want. I have seen Castille’s forces. You need better magicians. I should be thanked for bringing someone as adept as Quinn into the country. From what I saw of Sir Cian, you are horribly behind. Sword fighting alone won’t win this battle. I would like to help you."

"Bringing us the mage was your only valuable action," the man said. "Take him to where Cian is being held. You will be there for quite a while while we wait to see just how adept your mage is."

The Commander’s tone suggested something more but he wasn’t able to dwell on it as he was roughly dragged to his feet by two men and dragged out of the Commander’s tent.

Desmond’s legs were loosened once he was in the guarded tent. There he finally saw Cian lying in a cot inside. The man immediately perked up but then scowled when he saw Desmond being handcuffed to one of the tent posts next to the other cot in the room.

"How is everything?" Cian asked vaguely enough that any of the guards standing on the corners of the tent wouldn’t understand what he meant.

"Solved, for now," he responded. "Debating on revealing myself and how problematic it may be to have someone like me as a prisoner."

His words were purposefully used to spur the curiosity of anyone who could hear. His voice was confident and clear.

"Forgive us," Cian responded. "They seem to not know what to do with either of us. Quinn, however, found a place to go."

"Will he be alright?" Desmond asked.

"With other mages deeper in the heart of the kingdom where he can finally educate them," Cian responded. "It will be enough for now. We have to sit and wait."

For weeks, they were separated from Quinn and lived an unbelievably mundane existence in a cold tent where only Cian could rouse the fire and make a burst of warmth fill the place at night. They never uncuffed Desmond. If he felt restless, he might start doing various stretches to at least keep his body feeling limber.

A trunk full of reading material sat against the back wall of the tent and Cian occasionally delivered Desmond something to read. It was a surprise every time. If he wasn’t reading he was deep in thought, daydreaming about his wife or trying to sleep.

Nearly a month after being there, it was late at night that the guarding knights began yelling.

Fire coming from the north. Fire in the mountains separating Eirenguard from Castille.

A dragon?