“it frightens me to hear such words slip past your lips,” her brows furrowed in annoyance not in direct result of his words specifically, but rather with the truth that uprooted such a statement, “…for what point are we housing these people and promoting peace if so much as a single word could see to the success of it crashing down?” men && power, an overwhelming disease. it only inflamed the thoughts that adelaide kept hidden: men were not bred for ruling women were. thoughts best kept between a queen and her king. she kept their pace even, shifting towards the more secluded portion of the grounds the vineyard. it wasn’t until she felt a good distance between the potential eyes && ears of the castle that she allowed her posture and presentation to loosen; arm still looped through her husband’s. it was in this moment that she finally took note of his pause. physical affection was nothing more than foreign concept for the blonde queen, though it felt necessary within the moment, for her husband ( not her king ) looked somewhat troubled. “oui, rien ñ'est jamais simple.” her words were followed by an attempt to provide comfort; a hand placed kindly upon his chest as she ceased their walk for a brief moment an understanding look pooled in her blue hues. “mais nous pouvons essayer.”
his reaffirmation for her latter statement was music to her ears a comment she never thought she needed to hear until now. his comment that followed about a crick in his neck brought forth a smile && a genuine laughter from adelaide. “you needn’t fret about a simple crick, mon amour. though, more so on whether your features enact a permanent scowl.” she’d been somewhat familiar with the late king, not on any personal ground, but more within the borders of basic reputation he was stoic whereas his children were less of the sort. it was a brief moment, but the relaxed demeanor of their conversation soon shifted back upon the going-ons of the other nations. she would scoff, but refrained from presenting any form of distaste for how the men would react if a woman ( a queen with a surviving king no less ) should be allowed to contribute to the negotiations. “their feelings are of no consequence to me.” nor did their opinions. “let them continue to bicker && jest, so long as they present those of real potential with the opportunity to thrive and heal the counties.” she waved her hand, signaling that this was the last that she’d like to hear of the foolish antics in the council room, at least for their remaining moment of solitude; adelaide had other matters to discuss with him pivotal to their reign alone.
“your request shall be granted,” the previous smile from before had returned, “though, i might have a solution for the unending path that you fear.” adelaide felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach, signaling the nerves she felt when the thought first entered her mind. “a companion,” she took his hand into her own, “un enfant.”
“but you and i know very well those words are the truth,” léonard said, “and i am not about to hide that truth from you, not when it could have consequences.” he rolled his eyes upwards, studying the ceiling, his thoughts consuming him. how long would it be before harm was done within the walls of his château? it was her touch, not her words, that snapped him out of his reverie. léonard held her gaze, taking his hand to briefly cover hers. “oui nous pouvons,” he murmured, a smile ghosting over his lips. for what little passion and genuine love existed in their marriage, léonard would never doubt that he cared for her. she grounded him well, and she was a great match — a smart match. “je ne pourrais pas le faire sans toi.” though he had a faint idea that she was already well aware of that, aware of her own intelligence and cunning, léonard merely wanted her to know that he respected it as well.
“my father was quite the champion of his scowl, of that you are correct.” as a boy, the elder toussaint had frightened him so. whenever léonard conspired mischief, or attempted to step just one toe out of line, the nanny would always impose his father upon him as a threat. it was only in death that léonard’s lingering fear of the man who had raised him dissipated. “well, if i begin to scowl too often, you would do well to remind me of how it shall make me look when i am an elder.” it was of no surprise to him that his words elicited a fierceness within her, for he knew how much she loathed being considered lesser simply for her gender. “i can only hope we reach an accord. regardless of the bickering, of the heresay — i long for these meetings to come to a swift end. the longer the royals are in the city the more i feel as though a cloud hovers over it, imposing and dreadful.” it had begun to give him nightmares of late, thoughts such as these. he would toss and turn in his chambers, then flee to his study where he would sit and waste away the hours until dawn broke.
léonard was about to suggest they continue their walk when she caught his attention with her words. he stood, firmly rooted in place, trying to mask the sheer terror he felt at her words. “un enfant,” he echoed, the word alone a mouthful. “je vois.” it was with reluctance that he thought of it, of a boy toddling after him, begging him to teach him how to become a man. “oui, peut-être qu'un jour nous aurons un enfant,” léonard said, avoiding the specifics as he was known to do when broached with such a subject. he cleared his throat, the pause after his words uncomfortable.
