My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 51: Desmond Carthach

Chapter 51: Desmond Carthach

"Desmond Carthach," a hoarse voice whispered, hinting at the irreversible damage to his vocal cords. His wounds weren’t only external.

Those were the first words uttered by the hero as he lay on a cot with one of his arms outstretched. The healers in charge of the upkeep of his bandages insisted he remain that way or his skin would heal his armpit shut and he wouldn’t have correct movement of his arm.

An arm that wielded a sword ultimately putting a stop to the war.

King Stephano asked the hero what his name was after confirming weeks before that the one ruby eye left was that of Valerio’s. Yet he insisted his name was Desmond Carthach.

Desmond looked at the King with a complete lack of recognition. He tried to bow his head in respect knowing the man in front of him was a monarch, but Stephano insisted he remain lying down. It was he who should be bowing to a war hero.

However, they quickly found that Desmond lacked his memories. He didn’t know that he saved an entire kingdom and that’s why he was in unimaginable pain.

More importantly, to Stephano, the man didn’t remember the years before the war when he was carefree and in love. He didn’t remember teaching him swordsmanship and he didn’t remember ever being an orphan.

The man in front of him thought he was from the Eirenguardian kingdom.

Knowing that the hero was likely Valerio, King Stephano went to the battlefield to pass him the noble title of Duke. He was expecting Duke Valerio de Montclair, yet he was met with someone named Desmond.

At that moment, Stephano made it his mission to erase Valerio and make way for the new Duke. It wasn’t difficult considering the number of men inside the healing tent that were burnt to a crisp because of the fire that struck in the middle of the night. Many were far too burnt to identify.

Valerio’s passing would be much better with Count Mikael von Burien loitering around the capital as he tried to gain favor with the new king. He would certainly take credit for sending a hero to war who represented Burien County if it was ever uncovered that the Duke was Valerio.

Taking it a step further, he even changed his eye color so the man would be unrecognizable to anyone in Valerio’s past. He would have to continue receiving magic to keep up the charade.

However, each time Stephano took in the sight of the disfigured Duke, he knew the man was unrecognizable. Everything beautiful about Valerio went up in flames. What was left of his skin was marred and thin compared to anyone who had seen him before.

That was how Duke Desmond de Montclair emerged from the fire of a dragon and returned to Coeurvalle after several more months of healing in Letum.

He was the shell of a man and had to stay close to King Stephano so that he could occasionally receive enchanting magic. No amount of healing could take away his insufferable pain, but the mana could at least soothe him. Forgetting that something hurt was far better than having to live in pain.

His cold personality and lack of response even when directly addressed was due to the fog he was living in. It was the only way for him to remain upright and not reeling in pain. His new skin underneath the bandages had been rubbed raw from long travel.

It was time to let the hero rest once again. Except he would finally receive the utmost care in the palace. The best healers, including those related to the Royal Family, would pitch in to help the hero of Castille.

After the homecoming parade where Duke Desmond de Montclair was officially put in front of the public, he remained in the palace for months.

When he was awake he was educating himself on how to be the best leader for Montclair. Otherwise, there were long stretches of sleep.

Prince Stephano placed him in a room not far from his, hoping that he would be able to keep a closer eye on his progression even if he never regained his memories.

However, late one night while the king pored over documents related to national affairs, there was a loud, uneven knock at the door to his chambers.

He opened the door with a horrified expression on his face.

Duke Desmond leaned heavily against the doorframe. All he wore was sleeping pants and a robe in disarray. He hadn’t been wearing bandages since he had been there. The soft, new scarred flesh needed to dry out.

"I-I remember," he said breathlessly, though his voice remained hoarse. It likely would take a long time to heal if it ever did. "I remember everything."

Tears were falling out of his one remaining eye. They stung his sensitive skin and he grimaced.

Stephano held out his hands to steady the other man and he wore a miserable expression on his face.

All he knew to do was walk backward into his chamber and allow the hero to sit in one of his comfortable chairs. He would inject his soothing mana into the man if he asked. If Desmond needed to use him until he was depleted, he would do it for him.

Unbecoming of a king, Stephano sat on the footstool next to the chair Desmond occupied. He wanted to hear what he was thinking and feeling now that he remembered his life up to that point. There were so many pieces missing.

Stephano realized he also couldn’t think of the man as Valerio any longer with that appearance. For the past few months, he had been referring to him as "your grace" or "Duke Desmond" only.

"Why did you say your name was Desmond from the moment you woke up?" Stephano asked, hoping to finally assuage the questions that had been eating him for so long.

"When I lived in Eirenguard before I was an orphan, I was the son of an officer," he explained quietly, taking care not to strain his throat. "Desmond was my name before I was taken to Castille."

"Are you in pain?" the King asked.

Despite the grimace on Desmond’s face, he shook his head.

Pain felt like a constant. It was something he was starting to get used to.

However, he had new thoughts filling his head that reached his heart. He had someone he needed to see, but the moment he saw himself in the mirror and remembered who he was, he was horrified.

"She can’t see me like this," he said. "I have to get her out of that damned Count’s house but she can’t see me like this."

He cast a look of desperation that struck King Stephano to his heart. He would pave the way for him to get to Leonor.

"You’re a Duke now," Stephano reminded him. "The world is yours for the taking."

Desmond contemplated his words, but he felt that wasn’t a suitable phrase for him. Even if he was a Duke with power, he wasn’t heartless.

His reasoning for Leonor to stay with her family was that she had worked so hard to make herself a worthy heir for her father. How could he come in between that and contradict himself?