The Duke and Duchess de Montclair were on the floor as they embraced one another. Desmond crouched with Leonor falling into him, but soon he lifted her bridal style against his chest so she wouldn’t have to use any energy to stay standing up.
"I heard them saying my father woke up" was the first thing out of Leonor’s lips the mont she was in her husband’s arms.
The Duchess felt like they hadn’t even scratched the surface of how much she had missed him in the weeks they were apart. To make up for it, she slid her arms around his shoulders and tucked her face against his neck. She breathed him in for a while.
He really was there.
Since she had felt faint the first few tis she was awake, it still didn’t feel real.
"They didn’t think I was awake," she continued, uttering her words into his neck and trusting him with herself entirely, "but I was."
Desmond felt Leonor try to express herself and what she was feeling even though her voice was quiet, likely due to how weak she still was. She didn’t make it very far, but he was so relieved to see her walking by herself. All he had done since the mont Eve crumbled into dust in his hands was worry. It only got worse when he saw the love of his life chained to a wall in a musty cellar.
The thought of what she had been through in his absence was enough to easily access his anger, but he would save it until she wasn’t there. She needed tenderness not his complicated feelings about her awful family.
"He did wake up, but it isn’t wise for you to see him right now considering the fragile state of your mana," he responded, gently stroking her back as he held her. "Those are Stephano’s words, not mine. Even he felt awful simply being in the sa room as your father."
"You talked to him?" Leonor asked. "What did he say?"
It broke Desmond’s heart that she still evidently cared despite what the Buriens had done to her and the fact that they might not be her family at all. Even though she was clearly hurting, she still had a sense of duty to a place that rejected her for her entire life.
The duke sighed, deciding he should answer her once they were sowhere she could be comfortable and he knew they had privacy. There were too many curious maids in the area. At least they knew to leave the couple alone if they were in their room.
Desmond stood up with Leonor in his arms and he started stalking forward out the door and down the hallway to the bedroom they shared that Leonor had already gotten so well-acquainted with. It was interesting that the first ti she was in that room, she was terrified on the night of their wedding that he was going to do sothing to her.
Things had certainly changed.
When Leonor was in her bed once again, she looked up at her husband expectantly. She wanted to know everything. There was a desperation that she was in the dark after being in the light for so long.
"For the first ti, I don’t believe the count is telling lies," Desmond admitted.
"What did he say?"
"He woke up genuinely believing that you and I had only gotten married six months before," Desmond explained as calmly and quietly as he could. "He had a mont of clarity when he was found wandering Burien’s township and knocking on doors requesting help. After that is when he went to sleep. He rembers nothing else of the past years. Based on his confusion, I’m beginning to believe it wasn’t anything to do with him but your sister. We’ve already had n going through the manor. They’ve only found the evidence of black magic practice in Lady Anna’s room and nowhere else."
Leonor’s eyebrows lowered as she looked up at her husband. She felt lucky that there was already a pillow holding her up because she felt faint enough to fall over.
To Desmond’s surprise, Leonor’s eyes started watering and she put her hands over her face.
"Why is it that, after all he’s done to , I still feel terrible for him?" she questioned, her voice muffled by her hands. "I feel protective over him and angry at my sister... Although, she isn’t my sister, is she?"
"I’m not sure, Leonor," Desmond admitted, despite all the signs pointing to that de Marro man being her father.
Desmond vowed that one of the first things he would do is et Count Braulio de Marro himself. He wanted to see if he saw his wife in that man. Knowing everything there was to know about Leonor, he felt that he would be the best judge of that.
Beyond the information shared, their conversation wasn’t any more fruitful than that because of how easily tired Leonor was.
The duke settled into the bed with his wife and, the mont he was in comfortable clothing and covered in blankets, Leonor glued herself to his side.
When he looked down at her, surprised at her sudden movent, she was quick to et his lips with hers. She gave him a kiss that she had been waiting to give him for such a long ti, never having a good opportunity to since each mont they had reunited was heavy with everything happening at that mont.
Feeling her intimate touch for the first ti in a long ti, Desmond imdiately was carried away and he found his bare hand gripping the side of her nightgown at her waist. When he realized his endearing wife was out of breath, he pulled away, feeling horrible in his lapse of judgnt. He shouldn’t have pressured her with his desires.
Her lips seed to linger near his but eventually she gave in and decided it was best to go to sleep. She didn’t have energy for much of anything even though she was slowly but surely feeling better.
It was frustrating how much longer it was taking her to rebuild herself. Even when she healed Desmond against his will, it didn’t take her such a long ti to regain normalcy.
After Leonor went to sleep, Desmond lay there for a while, pretending that he could handle not touching her. He stared at the ceiling of a room still lit up by the outside sun since it had only just started to set and they were slowly going into dusk.
It wasn’t until the room was cast mostly in darkness that Desmond got up quickly and shut himself in the bathroom.
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