Eleanor reached for his arm and grasped it firmly. She used the help to step over the stone rim and back onto the garden’s cobblestone path.
She didn’t waste another moment looking at Sirus as she hurried off. Her wet skirt began to gather dirt and leaves and dead flower petals in its wake.
“Farewell, my flower!” Sirus called from behind her, and she shut her eyes tightly to ignore him.
Thomas kept his arm steady as she climbed out, not taking his eyes off her. Because if he looked at the despicable man, he wouldn't be able to remain as calm as he appeared.
He easily matched her speed, understanding her desire to get away from Sirus. Though he had to bite his tongue to keep from growling at the man’s last comment.
Once they were safely out of earshot, he leaned just a little bit closer toward her. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he whispered.
“No,” Eleanor quickly replied in a weak, shaky voice that didn't in any way resemble the tone she'd taken with Sirus just mere seconds ago. She was vulnerable now. “Of course, I’m not. I’m cold, wet, and humiliated.” Her cheeks were bright pink and her hand on his arm was trembling, though she was barely touching him. She didn’t want to get him all wet. "I can't believe I fell for that… rat's little scheme."
Thomas nodded sympathetically and gently pulled her a little closer, not caring if he got wet. “It's not your fault.” he assured. “I have a feeling that he's used this tactic before.”
She couldn’t help but lean into his warmth. Her body was already shaking, and she was rubbing at her arms frantically to dry herself any faster. “Likely,” she whispered. “Hurry please. I can’t be seen like this.”
“Of course.” he nodded, picking up the pace to a speed she was still comfortable with. He didn't want her to feel more embarrassed or to get sick.
Eleanor begged any gods who were listening that no one else would see her before they got back to her room.
Finally, the door was in sight, and the queen breathed an immense sigh of relief. “Thank the gods,” she breathed, opening it quickly and practically running inside.
Thomas let go of her when she ran but quickly followed. “Eleanor?” he asked, once he caught up with her and closed the door behind him.
Once in her room, the queen sunk to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved with quiet sobs. “Thomas,” she whimpered. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“I’m here. I’m here.” he whispered soothingly as he knelt beside her, placing a hand on her back. “It's alright. You’re safe now.”
Eleanor leaned into him, trembling and crying. “Why do people always make me out to be a fool?” she asked weakly. “I’m tired of it.”
Thomas wrapped his arm around her in a gentle embrace as she leaned against him. “I… I don't know. But I don't think you are a fool. That man was just a… just an ill-bred skunk.” he said, faltering at the insult.
Eleanor wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t stop the sobs that racked her body. “I need to get changed,” she finally said, her arms wrapped around her body to try and keep her warm. “I’m going to freeze.”
“Alright.” he nodded, keeping his arm around her as he helped her back to her feet. “Do you want me to wait outside? Maybe I can see if we can find Lucy to help you get cleaned up.” he offered.
“No,” Eleanor whispered as she rose to her feet with Thomas’ support. “Please stay. I’ll change behind the screen. Lucy can’t know or everyone in the castle will within the hour.”
She walked over to her wardrobe, selected a simple pale blue gown, and disappeared behind her changing screen in the corner.
“Then I'll stay.” Thomas assured with a nod, understanding her meaning. There was no need for anyone else to know exactly what happened. Though he felt someone should deal with Sirus's disrespectful treatment of the Queen.
It took her a few minutes to strip out of the soaked dress and dry herself off before slipping into the new one.
Though her hair was still wet, Eleanor came out with her eyes still red-rimmed. “What am I supposed to do now?” she asked quietly. “I can’t tell Marcellus.”
Thomas stood patiently as he waited for her to change, not caring about the dampness on his clothes.
“No.” he sighed. “I don't think… we need to tell anyone. It might depend on if he says anything but if he doesn't then you don't have to say anything either.”
Eleanor nodded and folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. She was still cold.
“Alright… can you hold me?” she asked quietly. “Please?”
“Of course.” he smiled softly, taking a step towards her and wrapping his arms around her. “Is this better?” he teased lightly.
Eleanor closed her eyes and relaxed against him easily. “Yes,” she whispered, on the verge of crying again.
“It's alright, Eleanor.” he whispered, feeling her tremble. “You’re safe here. There’s no one but us.”
Eleanor nodded against his chest, her dark hair still stringy and dripping. “That was the most terrible feeling,” she whispered. “I went under, and I couldn’t breathe.”
Thomas nodded, gently stroking her hair in what he hoped was a calming motion. “I don't blame you. That's a terrible feeling.” he murmured soothingly.
“I was so scared,” Eleanor whispered. “I thought I was going to die.” She laughed humorlessly. “I probably sound ridiculous. I could wade up to my knees in that fountain.”