Alaric's head hurts. Not that it's a new development, but it's certainly an exhausting pain that refuses to go away. Well, it's a problem he brought upon himself by deciding to add extra work to his schedule in order to figure out what's causing the curse to weaken. Since it's a matter that impacts the future of his people, it's not something he can ignore.
He does, however, wish that it happened at a more convenient time. The Tower is willing to send mages, but Barrowmere's teleportation circle stopped functioning long ago without a branch of the Tower in the area to maintain it after the curse took effect. It was a source of interest and study at first, until the mages realized that the curse impacted their magic.
It seems that when nature is angry, it lashes out at anybody it can.
And so, fewer mages came to Barrowmere, and those both within the duchy left. It only took a few decades to leave the duchy without the presence of mages. If the curse can be fully broken, the situation will change. The problem right now is the broken teleportation circle and the instructions for repairing it that Alaric can't understand.
"I don't suppose we have any contacts in the duchy who can understand instructions that involve magic," Alaric says.
Corwin sits on the other side of his desk with his own abundance of files, sifting through them to find the information Alaric needs as he requests it. It's not an easy job to be the head butler, but maintaining records with the help of the librarian was one of the first tasks Alaric gave him when he was promoted. "No, my lord. Aside from residents who moved to study at the Tower, the only other mage with a connection to Barrowmere would be Lenore's sister, Vella."
In truth, Alaric forgot that Lenore was related to a mage. However, this could be a good opportunity for both of them. Lenore wants to see her family, and Alaric wants to speak with a mage who can help him with the teleportation circle. "I'll speak with Lenore about her later, then."
"As you wish."
"Leave the records here for now. I can look through them in detail once I finish handling requests for supplies from the towns."
Corwin stands up and places the files on the seat he was using, unable to find an open spot for them on Alaric's desk. "Is there anything else you need, my lord?"
Alaric shakes his head. "You're dismissed."
With a bow, Corwin leaves the study, closing the door behind him.
Now alone, Alaric leans back in his chair and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to will away the tired dryness in them. A portion of the files that Corwin left behind should include the information regarding the lineage of both the imperial concubine who gave birth to Elyria and Lenore. It would take time and a lot of reading, but Alaric hopes that they have enough records to show if there's a relation or not.
The problem is that there are so many generations he has to go through for this task due to how far into the past he has to look. It's not uncommon for records to get lost over such a long timeline, and it would be impossible to recover them at this point. No, this isn't a task that he'll enjoy, but it's one that he has to at least try completing.
A knock at his door breaks him away from his thoughts. It's too soft to be his personal servants or knights. Even the kitchen servants are comfortable enough to knock with confidence when they bring him refreshments. Which means that this must be Lenore or one of her more timid maids.
"Come in."
As he guessed, it's Lenore who steps inside. She's uncertain, fidgeting with the item in her hands and moving closer to his desk slowly, giving him enough time with each step to tell her to stop before she takes the next one. It's endearing in a way, but he finds it upsetting to know that this habit likely developed from her fear of upsetting Claude Rowanhart.
"You can sit if you want; just move the files to the table behind you." Alaric watches her start moving the files in sections, not risking the chance that they'll be scattered if she takes too many at once. That's when he notices that her dress is new, likely from the wardrobe that has just recently arrived. He knows that he made the servants rush to move and organize it all, but they seemed happy enough to follow his orders. "That dress looks good on you. Is it from Nella?"
Lenore's face is flushed pink when she sits down, quietly flustered and pulling at the ribbon of what he thinks is a bundle of cloth. "Yes, the dressing room has just been finished. Thank you, by the way. It's more than... I expected."
Her pause leaves Alaric suspecting that she intended to say something else, but he doesn't want to pry right now. She seems particularly fragile in this moment, as if she's testing how worthy she is of her new clothes.
"You don't need to thank me. It's simply what you should have as a duchess."
Lenore nods, pauses, and then hands him the item she's holding. It's a cloth pouch tied with a dark ribbon.
"What's this?"
"A sachet. I dried as many flowers as I could so that you and the people who work and live on the estate could have a few petals to remind you of nature during winter."
"It's for me?" Alaric can't remember the last time one of his wives gave him a gift without expecting something in return.
Lenore nods. "You don't have to keep it."
Alaric opens it and takes out one of the petals. The faint scent of roses clings to the inside of the pouch. "I like it. Thank you."
With those simple words, Lenore's posture shifts, opening up as her anxiety visibly melts away. A bright smile appears on her face. "Thank goodness."
In that moment, Alaric realizes that he may have made a mistake with the marriage contract this time, as her smile brings a warmth to his chest that feels foreign after so long. He said that love wouldn't be part of this marriage.
However, the fondness he feels for Lenore and her pure, kind nature is starting to tip dangerously close to something more.