Chapter 187: It Couldn’t Be Him
Lorraine’s voice was steady, almost dismissive, but carried the weight of quiet resolve. "It was a simple feat," she said, shrugging as though speaking of nothing more complicated than the weather. "When I realized he wanted you dead, he became a dead man walking. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist seeing it with his own eyes... your..." She cleared her throat, the word "death" too heavy to speak, even in the dim safety of their private room.
Her hand reached out, gentle and deliberate, tracing the curve of his jawline, moving down to his lips. If she hadn’t stayed awake, piecing together scattered reports and whispered rumors, she might not be here now. She might already be dressed in mourning black, trapped in grief.
Leroy met her gaze, soft and unwavering, sensing the flicker of tears welling in her eyes. Without hesitation, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "You protected me... again," he murmured. "I knew you would do something to protect me that day." The trust in his voice was absolute, unshaken by doubt.
Lorraine tightened her grip on the braid that draped over his shoulder, her voice trembling just enough to betray the fear she didn’t want to admit. "You should be more involved. What if I falter one day?" It was her deepest worry, the silent terror that if she ever slept without vigilance, some irreparable harm would come to him.
Her voice cracked as she confessed, "I won’t be able to live without you..." Her throat tightened, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Leroy smiled softly, his thumb brushing away a tear from her cheek before his lips found hers in a gentle kiss. "I’ll be more careful. So you can rest more. Do you hear me?" His eyes drifted from her face to her belly, concern etched into every line of his expression. "You need to rest... be less stressed. I feel useless, seeing you work yourself to the bone."
Lorraine placed her hand firmly over his mouth, silencing his guilt. "You’re not useless," she said, her tone resolute. "I’m just doing what I know to do best, and I want to give it my all. If the situation arises, you will do what you do best for me. I know it. No one is useless. Not you... not me."
She would not let that word come between them again.
Leroy nodded, pressing a kiss to her palm before resting it against his cheek. "You’ll tell me when it gets overwhelming, won’t you?" he asked, holding her hand close as if anchoring her to him.
She looked at him, a small, vulnerable smile forming. "Will you take me somewhere?" she asked.
"Where do you want to go?" Leroy inquired, suspecting she had never left the capital, not once.
"Anywhere..." Lorraine began, but a vivid memory of the mountains she had seen in her visions swept back into her mind. The image was powerful, undeniable.
Her hand instinctively went to her belly, as if shielding the fragile life growing within her. "I’m fine here," she said softly.
Leroy smiled softly, not questioning it further. He simply held her closer, as if their shared silence was enough as an unspoken reassurance neither needed to elaborate on.
"You poisoned Gaston in the crowd?" he asked, his voice steady but curious.
"Yes. And he didn’t even know it," Lorraine replied, her tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing the weather.
Leroy hesitated for a moment, his next words hanging unfinished in the air. "By any chance, can you..."
"I could kill the emperor if I wanted to," Lorraine whispered, her voice low but unwavering.
He cleared his throat. "I was going to ask about the dowager."
Lorraine blinked, the question catching her off guard. "I’ve tried," she said simply. "That woman is slippery, like a snake."
Leroy raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. He never imagined anyone could outmaneuver his wife, but the dowager was no ordinary adversary. She had been mastering court intrigues for years. Of course, she was smarter.
"Leroy," Lorraine murmured, her eyes settling on his face. Her fingertip traced the faint outline of his birthmark. "It really does look like a flame, doesn’t it?" she asked softly.
"It does?" he replied, surprised by the observation.
Lorraine hummed in agreement, letting her hand linger over the mark. The dowager had insisted Leroy hide it, a fact that always seemed curious to her.
An intriguing thought began to take shape in Lorraine’s mind, unlikely as it seemed, yet persistent. She rarely misread the signs. She was almost certain... though proof eluded her.
"What is it?" Leroy asked, noticing her sudden stillness as her hand rested on his cheek. He wondered what tangled thought consumed her.
"Nothing," she replied, but then her gaze locked onto his. "Why are you so sure you aren’t the heir to the Dragon lineage, Leroy?" Her voice was calm but probing. "I just learned today that I’m related, albeit distantly, to the Swan Oracle from my mother’s side. I believe it... even without proof. Why won’t you believe it?"
"You figured it out by yourself?" Leroy asked, a note of surprise in his voice. Her boldness when confronting Hadrian had already hinted at something remarkable.
Lorraine’s eyes dropped as she revisited the moment in her mind. "I see things, Leroy. I get dreams, and I think those are visions," she confessed softly. "Maybe I truly am a Divina." Her words trembled, lacking the confidence she so desperately wanted to claim. She couldn’t fully explain it, nor could she fully grasp it herself.
Leroy exhaled deeply. "And that changes nothing for me," he said, needing her to hear it, needing to give her that reassurance.
"I know," she said. She wouldn’t doubt him again. "What’s your disbelief, though?"
"I am the son of Bear, Lorraine," he answered. His voice grew heavy with history. "My forefather killed the last king of the Dragon dynasty. No heir was left... That we are sure of. And..."
He held her cheek and looked into her eyes. "This idea of the Dragon King returning... is not novel to us. I’ve heard it. In our studies, all we’ve ever read about the Dragon King’s return described a terror, a force of vengeance and genocide. A ruler who would spill blood without mercy..."
He paused, his eyes searching hers.
"Do you really think I could be that?" he asked.
Lorraine understood the pain in his voice. He wouldn’t want to be a blood-thirsty tyrant.
"But if they knew they eliminated everyone from House Aurelthar, why did they still talk about Vaerakar’s return?" she asked.
Leroy’s eyes widened, not expecting her question.