Chapter 167 - 166: The Comfort

Caelestis was on his way back to room to change into his tour outfit in the outskirts of the capital. He found Eleanore curled on the floor beside their bed, shoulders shaking, the letter lying open beside her where it had fallen.

"Eleanore—" He was at her side before he’d fully processed moving, dropping to his knees without a second thought. "Eleanore, what happened?"

She didn’t answer, couldn’t, the words caught somewhere behind the tightness in her throat. He hesitated only a moment before reaching for the letter, glancing at her first for some sign of permission, and when she didn’t stop him, he picked it up and read it through quickly, the color slowly draining from his expression as he reached the third paragraph.

"Is this Lady Flora’s letter?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, the motion small and fractured.

"She believes it?" His voice had gone low, something sharp and protective threading through it now, though it was carefully aimed away from her. "After everything, she just—"

"She’s known me for years, Caelestis." The words finally broke free, rough and uneven. "She’s known me since before any of this. And she just — she believed it. That easily. Like it never even occurred to her to ask me first."

He set the letter aside gently and, after a brief moment of hesitation, pulled her carefully against him, one arm wrapping around her shoulders. She didn’t resist it, too worn down to hold up the usual walls, and let herself lean into him as the last of it worked its way out of her chest.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly, into the quiet space between them. "For all of it. The article existing in the first place. Taking Adena’s side at lunch when I should have backed you. Making you feel like you had to carry all of this alone." He exhaled slowly, resting his chin lightly against the top of her head. "I’ve been so focused on trying to prove I’m changing that I keep making the exact mistakes I’m supposed to be fixing."

Eleanore didn’t respond immediately, still catching her breath, but she didn’t pull away either.

"I don’t need you to be perfect," she said finally, voice hoarse but steadier. "I just need you to actually be there. Not performing it. Just — there."

"I can do that." His hold tightened slightly, careful and certain. "I’m here now."

And for the first time since she’d broken the seal on that letter, the tight, hollow ache in her chest eased, just slightly, not gone, not fixed, but no longer something she was carrying entirely by herself.

They stayed like that for a long while. Eleanore’s breathing slowly evening out against his shoulder, Caelestis’ hand moving in slow, steady circles against her back, neither of them in any hurry to break the quiet that had settled over the room. It was, strangely, the most peace either of them had felt in weeks.

"I mean it," Caelestis said eventually, pulling back just enough to look at her properly, his hands still resting lightly at her shoulders. "Whatever happens, articles, rumors, Adena’s next disaster, anything. I won’t put the blame on you again. Not like that. Not ever."

"You can’t promise that," Eleanore said, though there was no real challenge in it, just a tired kind of honesty. "Things go wrong. People make mistakes."

"Then I promise I won’t let you carry it alone when they do." His thumb brushed gently against her cheek, wiping away the last traces of the tears still drying there. "That’s a promise I can actually keep."

She looked up at him, really looked, past the practiced charm and the sharp edges he usually wore like a second skin and found something steadier there than she’d expected, something that had been quietly building for weeks beneath all the flowers and small gestures and clumsy attempts at change.

Neither of them said anything else after that. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn’t, the distance between them finally closed. The kiss was soft, careful, nothing like the sharp, practiced confidence he usually carried into everything else, like he was asking a question instead of making a claim, and only relaxed into it fully when she kissed him back.

When they finally broke apart, her forehead resting lightly against his, she let out a small, shaky breath that was almost a laugh. "This is a terrible idea."

"Probably," he agreed.

"We’re both a mess."

"Undeniably."

"I still don’t think the pillow wall is going anywhere tonight."

"I wasn’t expecting a miracle," he said, and the smile that spread across his face was different from his usual smirk, softer, more real. "One step at a time."

"One step at a time," she echoed, and for the first time in longer than she could remember, the idea of trying again with him didn’t feel like a burden she was dreading. It felt, cautiously, like something worth actually giving a real chance.

They were still lost in each other, when Victor came knocking briskly before letting himself into Caelestis’s room without waiting for an answer, an old habit neither of them had ever managed to break him of. His expression was serious enough that Eleanore and Caelestis got up immediately, the easy warmth from the day before receding into something more alert.

"We have a problem," Victor said, closing the door behind him. "There’ve been sightings in the mansion. Tall, unusually pale, moves like he doesn’t want to be noticed but somehow always is."

"Sightings of what, exactly?" Caelestis asked, setting down the papers he’d been reviewing.

"That’s the strange part. Nothing concrete. No theft, no violence, nothing anyone can pin to him directly. Just the servants and maids finding him unsettling. Every single report used almost the same words. Something is wrong about him. Something that made their skin crawl." Victor crossed his arms, frowning. "I’ve had people looking into it for days and no one can find a name, an origin, anything solid."

Eleanore had gone very quiet, something cold settling low in her stomach as the description sank in. "Tall. Pale. Moves like he doesn’t want to be seen."

Victor glanced at her. "You’ve heard something?"

"I’ve seen him," she said slowly. "Months ago. In the green garden, before any of this — before the wedding, even. He didn’t say much. Just watched me for a moment too long before disappearing, and I never told anyone because at the time it felt like nothing. Just an odd stranger."

Caelestis’s expression sharpened immediately. "Why didn’t you mention this before?"