Chapter 80: First Dinner

There was no reason Leonor invited Desmond to dinner. She simply felt like testing the bounds of their relationship. He had made her evenings so much more bearable, perhaps having him around would make dinnertime a bit more exciting as well.

She had eaten with him a few times while they were traveling to Montclair, but she hardly remembered anything outside of her nervous rambling. Now that she was more comfortable around him, she hoped that it would be an entirely different story.

However, after he helped her to her spot and he settled at the table across from her, she felt somewhat nervous once again. It seemed that the intimate setting where they only had each other to focus on was a lot for her to handle even still.

Normally the garden was her buffer and she could turn her attention to a flower or statue when she felt nervous. While facing one another there was no such distraction to be had.

Despite her nerves, she wanted to make sure he knew it wasn’t because she was scared of him any longer. Any nerves she experienced were her fault and her fault alone.

"Did you finish everything you needed to do today?" she asked vaguely, knowing he tended to work through dinner and up until their walks.

There was a time he confessed to working after he brought her to her room. She told him he should value his sleep more and he never told her he worked late again. Whether or not he corrected that habit wasn’t to be known.

"I did," he said. "The summer is an easy time to manage a duchy."

She appreciated him giving her a bit more to go off of.

"What’s the hardest?" she wondered.

"Autumn," he said resolutely. "Transitional seasons. Harvesting, taxes, and winterization."

"I’m surprised winter wouldn’t be due to all I’ve heard of the snow," she mused.

Desmond gauged her expression for what she thought of the impending seasons but she didn’t seem to be full of dread.

"It’s slow," he said. "If you correctly winterize your duchy, there’s little reason to go outdoors."

Last winter he simply sat indoors reading and eating. He had to force himself to wield a sword again even though it didn’t make his skin feel good, it was the only way he wouldn’t gain weight from having such a stagnant season.

This season would certainly test his limits.

"That makes a lot of sense," Leonor echoed reflectively. "I didn’t grow up around snow. Only a few times in my childhood did I see snowflakes. When I went to Magia was where I first truly experienced a white winter. I’m not all that adept at starting a fire but I got a lot better. Eve kept me warm many nights."

He already knew about Burien’s winters being mild or her only seeing snowflakes a few times, but Desmond was happy to hear her describe her life to him. He simply liked hearing her talk.

However, she often asked him something that would cause him to have to make up something about his life. He had done it a few times. While most of the time he wouldn’t blatantly lie, he would conceal a truth or exaggerate one to make him seem like someone less familiar to her.

"Did you grow up around snow?" she asked, thinking nothing of her question.

"I did," he said, recalling the very beginning of his life, however, it became twisted with his past five years. "I’m used to harsh winters."

In Letum, the winters were so cold that, even though the snow in the valley had melted because of constant battles and the filth that lined the lowest point, the wet ground would freeze solid. It was impossible to get a footing sometimes.

However, it also meant that the monsters’ paths forward slowed down. They were reptile-like in the way that they slowed during cold weather and did better on days when there was sun and humid warmth.

It was strange to look forward to nearly freezing to death each night and having to wear an entire suit of clothing and armor just so he would be able to survive the night. A few soldiers had burnt down their tents while they slept simply because they wanted to sleep close to a fire but made the mistake of rolling in their sleep.

Even when they weren’t being attacked by monsters, there was always something to worry about.

"Then you will have to show me what there is to do when you can’t go outdoors," Leonor perked up at his response, having no idea about the underlying darkness of his statement. "I’m excited seeing snow here but I will be sad when there are no more flowers. I guess that’s the sacrifice of every year and gives us something else to look forward to."

Just like the duke, Leonor had her own double meaning to her words. She had the strange knowledge that flowers didn’t have to die. After all, she kept one so dear to her in her locket.

Before they could get into another conversation, food was brought out for them. There were thick fish steaks on a bed of wild rice with a white herbed sauce over the top. A mix of carrots and a fresh salad were also brought to them. Rolls were placed on the table as well.

"Have you eaten freshwater fish before?" the duke asked. "I hope you enjoy it."

He could have seafood imported from the coast, but the chef specialized in Montclarian food and the trout steak was one of his best. With a citrus herbed sauce over the top, he could fool himself into believing he was on the Burien coast with the best seafood he had ever eaten. He hoped his wife thought it was delicious as well.

"I never have, but it looks delicious," Leonor admitted.

She seemed nervous and tucked her hair behind her ear on one side before lifting the chalice of wine next to the glass of water on the table. "To our first dinner together in Montclair. Another measure of getting used to one another."

He raised his chalice with a gloved hand.

Even though he seemed to be in agreement, the duke knew that he would never get used to Leonor. There was no way for him to adjust to her presence when her very presence ignited so many things within him that he would never be able to address.

As long as she could get used to him, it was enough.

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