Alaric is uncertain, as he finds himself to be more often than not since Lenore's arrival in Barrowmere. He was surprised to learn that she fell ill once the weather turned worse, and since it's a common event in this land, he's concerned that he might end up needing to send her to a villa purely for her health—as opposed to not wanting to deal with her presence, which has been the case with his previous wives.
It's the first time he's wanted to keep his wife nearby. At least among the wives sent to him through marriage orders over the decades. He maintains his distance, but he can't deny that part of him wants to seek Lenore out. To see her as she grows into the role of a duchess, which, he's been told, is her main goal for now.
He doesn't fool himself into believing that her goal is for his sake. No, he's simply allowed her to exist in a space where she doesn't need to be afraid of the people around her. The person she grows into in this new, improved environment is for her own sake.
It's nice to have her light presence in the manor. After long years of quiet routine, she's a breath of fresh air. A touch of life in his haunted halls.
Alaric looks at the portrait covered by thick velvet curtains in his study. Elyria would've loved Lenore. Not as his wife, but she would've found a precious friend in Lenore. At times, Lenore reminds him so much of Elyria, it brings fresh pain to his heart.
It's been a while, so he pulls the rope next to the portrait, opening the curtains so he can see her face again. Her soft features remain untouched by the harsh world around her. Deep green eyes that reminded him of the forests that were once lush and vibrant in Barrowmere. Hair that shone like it embodied the sun, with a warm laugh that matched.
His first wife and only love, lost too early.
Alaric runs his fingertips over the golden frame that holds her image. The greatest cruelty of Barrowmere's curse isn't the way the land rejects life. It's the fact that Elyria is gone and Alaric has no choice but to stay. Death is a kindness he doesn't deserve. A punishment for his greatest failure.
There's a soft knock at his door, and Alaric finds Lenore standing there hesitantly on the other side. "Is there something you need?"
It's unusual for Lenore to seek him out. She moves like a ghost around him outside of their shared meals. She doesn't seem outwardly uncomfortable in his presence, but she moves with the uncertainty of somebody who can't tell if they belong. Well, that's rather common among his political partners. He knows that they're told about his cursed existence in hushed whispers for years before being sent here, not imagining that they'd ever need to see the cursed Duke with their own eyes.
After all, it's human nature to be afraid of things that are cursed. He understands that. He accepts that he deserves the fear and distrust in their eyes. He considers himself fortunate that his employees don't fear him. Instead, they're loyal and grateful for his efforts to care for the people of his territory.
Those are the stories that the world isn't told.
Lenore fidgets with the items in her hands, then thrusts them towards him, leaving Alaric with no option but to grab them.
"What's this?" he asks.
Lenore looks down, letting her pale hair cover her face so he can't see her eyes. It seems like she didn't expect to encounter him and give these items in person. "I wanted to thank you."
"For what?" Alaric finds himself at a loss, which seems to be the case rather often when Lenore is involved. He can't imagine what she's thanking him for—not remembering doing anything out of the ordinary.
"Everything, but recently making it possible for me to receive proper care while I was sick."
"It's a given to care for the sick," Alaric says. "Political arrangement or not, I'd be a sad excuse for a husband if I didn't send at least a physician to my ailing wife."
Lenore's laugh is quick and quiet, but bright in a way he's not used to hearing. "You might think that way, but that's not how it used to be for me. I've never received such kindness before. Not just with the physician, but the care and consideration I've been shown since I arrived here."
Alaric takes a moment to look at what she gave him: a simple note and a rose. "Did you have Corwin buy flowers just for this?"
"Hm? No." Lenore's head tilts slightly to the side, her eyes raised and visible once more for him to see the confusion in them. "The flowers are from the garden you told me to care for."
Alaric nearly drops it in shock. "That's impossible."
He sets her note and flower on his desk, pulling his cloak from its place tossed over his chair and sets it on Lenore's shoulders. "Show me."
Lenore hesitates for a moment, bundling up his cloak so she can walk easier and not have it getting tangled around her feet due to its length. She leads him down the halls in a way that shows him she's at least become familiar with the path to the gardens. Part of him feels bad for making her guide him after recently being bedridden, but his cloak is thick and will keep her warm enough. Besides, it shouldn't take long to see for himself the rose bush she's miraculously brought back to life.
What he doesn't expect is that more than a single rose bush now lives in the garden. An array of flowers are in bloom, all in the middle of the area that Lenore decided to start with in her goal to tend to the garden.
He glances at her, finding her waiting for his reaction with her cheeks flushed somewhere between pride and embarrassment. Without another thought, he draws her into his arms, pulling her close to his chest.
As long as the curse holds, it shouldn't be possible for plants to grow on his estate.
So, if Lenore has managed to do the impossible, then maybe—just maybe—she's the key to finally ending his wretched curse.