None the wiser to the conflict they had only just left behind, Desmond and Leonor followed the maid mostly in silence.
Rather than him guiding her properly, they laced fingers together and she leaned into his shoulder as they slowly walked forward. As they went along, they admired a bit more of the palace's art, tapestries, rugs, and muraled ceilings. Some of the paintings even had gold foiling that glimmered in the candlelight of chandeliers and wall sconces.
As they made it to the end of the long hallway, they saw that the maid, who had been giving them privacy, was waiting at the door.
"Forgive me, your graces," the maid turned to them. "We must walk outside for a moment even if the breezeway is covered, it is still open to the outside wind."
Desmond turned to his wife, allowing her to respond considering she was the colder out of both of them.
"I'll survive," Leonor said. "I've had enough to drink so I ought to cool down."
