Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king-Chapter 1039: Heart to heart

"Dear?"

The word was like a gentle hook, pulling Jasmine back from the grey fog of her own thoughts. Rosalind’s gaze shifted, her sharp eyes softening into that particular, knowing look that only a mother can wield.Meanwhile, the ruling princess jolted in her seat, the suddenness of her mother’s voice making her feel as though she had been caught trespassing somewhere she shouldn’t have.

The Princess Mother gave a small, melodic chuckle. She took a slow, deliberate sip from her silver cup before setting it down. "I can recognize that expression, even if I were half-blind and miles away. I may have officially retired from the theater of state affairs, praise the gods, but I am still not demented. I see quite clearly in the matters I still choose to observe."

Rosalind leaned back into the plush silk of her chair, letting out a satisfied, almost decadent sigh. "These last few years have been a profound blessing. I never truly understood the exquisite sweetness of laziness until I let it consume me. Leaving the weight of the crown to the younger generation was a godssend. Now, I spend my hours watching over my grandson and granddaughter, playing the doting grandmother, and drifting through my days like a summer cloud.You can keep all the lord’s business to yourself..." She offered a playful, feline smile, but Jasmine only tilted her head in silent confusion.

"And of course," Rosalind continued, taking a sip of wine from her cup "I have spent these years looking at you. Or rather, the two of you. I have seen enough to know that something has shifted in the air. The question, really, is no longer if someone is to blame, but who? Is it you, or is it that husband of yours?"

That took her by surprise "Why would you even think such a thing?" Jasmine asked, her brows knitting together in a defensive line. "Perhaps it is merely some tiresome affair of the court?"

Rosalind laughed, a rich, genuine sound that filled the solar. "Whenever it is a matter of the state, you or Alpheo wear a furrow of irritation, or of rage. You do not wear pensive looks made of raw, bleeding regret. No, this is personal. So, tell me, was it the Prince? Did he finally succumb to the weight of his own legend and take a paramour?"

Jasmine’s face went white with a sudden, sharp shock. "Mother! Gods, no! How can you even suggest it?"

"Mh. I would have wagered a significant sum that he had," Rosalind mused, tapping a finger against her chin. "Usually, men with that much restless energy in the field have far too much of it remaining when they return to the bedroom. I didn’t expect the ’Monster of the Field’ to be quite so monogamous.

Your grandfather and I actually placed a bet on it, years ago. Neither of us won, for your information. The old man bet he wouldn’t last six months before his eye started wandering. I, more generously, gave him two years before he assembled a harem. We were both... pleasantly disappointed to be proven wrong. It’s one of the few reasons the old man finally warmed to the boy. Despite the Fox’s many shadows, he is a good father and a steadfast husband. Still the winds of youth...no one is safe from it you know?Even Lysandra is starting to feel that whisper."

She paused, her gaze catching the sudden flicker of pain that crossed Jasmine’s face, a momentary wince that spoke volumes of what was up.

"Jasmine! Could it be? Has he finally broken?"

"Mother, I said no! It isn’t that!"

"Were you the one, then?" Rosalind asked, her voice dropping into a inquisitive hum. "Did you find a distraction in someone else?"

"No!"

"Do you suspect him, then? Is that the root of this rot?"

"And where would he even hide her?" Jasmine snapped, her voice rising in frustration. "He spends every waking hour in his study, in our chambers, or surrounded by his circle of soldiers. If he has managed to hide a mistress in this palace while under the constant watch of the court, then I would congratulate him on a feat of engineering.Not even a rumor of it..."

"Well, who said it was a ’her’?" Rosalind shrugged. "Your previous guest from the south certainly took a vivid interest in him. If the rumors of the ’Bull’ are to be trusted, he possesses a ravenous appetite that doesn’t always distinguish between rivers."

An ugly expression of disgust passed over Jasmine’s face. "He wouldn’t dare. And Alpheo... Alpheo does not navigate those waters."

"Eh," Rosalind shrugged again. "I had my doubts in the early months. He was always skin-to-skin with those generals of his, whispering in corners, sharing blood and secrets. It isn’t unheard of for soldiers to find their solace among their brothers-in-arms. But very well, if it isn’t lust, then what?"

"Can we please change the subject?"

"Only if you tell me what is truly wrong between you two. The silence in your wing of the palace is becoming deafening.So silent I can hear the damn peasants on their chamber-pots"

Jasmine looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting the fabric of her gown. "There is nothing wrong..."

Rosalind took a long, slow sip of her wine, watching her daughter over the rim of the cup. "And yet, you’ve been moping about like a beaten dog for weeks. You have the look of someone who is waiting for a blow that has already landed."

Jasmine made no move to answer, her eyes fixed on a loose thread.

"Jasmine Veloni-isha," Rosalind called out, using her full name. "Tell me."

"I... I may have done something to upset him," Jasmine whispered, her voice barely audible. "It wasn’t voluntary. I didn’t mean for it to become what it has... but it may have been just as bad regardless.’’ 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"What happened?" Rosalind asked, the cup clinking against the table with a finality that brooked no more evasion.

"He... he bared something of himself," Jasmine whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf in a gale. "A part of his soul he had kept under lock and key. And my reaction was not what he expected. At least, it was not what he had hoped for."

"I see," Rosalind sighed, but Jasmine was not finished. The dam had cracked, and the confession poured out.

"I needed time to process what I saw, and he gave it to me. But then he tried to approach me again, and I still needed more. Before I knew it, the silence between us became a wall. I grew fearful and guilty under the gazes he threw me. And then there are the looks from my son. Basil’s eyes... filled with regret and self-blame."

Rosalind made no move to address the hint regarding her grandson. Instead, she leaned back, her eyes drifting toward the vaulted ceiling as if searching for a memory lost in the rafters. "You know what my biggest regret is regarding your father, my dear?" she asked, her voice turning pensive and dreamy.

Jasmine’s brows drew together. "What?" She knew her mother spoke very little of the late Prince , much like Lysandra and she did.

"That I did not plunge a dagger into his back myself," She closed her eyes. "I had to wait for a mercenary to do what I lacked the balls to do. I do not know the specifics of what you and Alpheo are enduring, nor can I pretend to. My time for romance is long dead, and what I had was less a marriage and more a protracted nightmare. What I suffered at his hands, you and your sister suffered too."

She looked directly at Jasmine, her gaze piercing. "I never had what you and your husband have. I never had a man who listened quietly while I grumbled about the petty grievances of the day, as Alpheo does with you. I never had a husband who would massage my aching back after a long day of ceremonies. I never felt his warmth; whenever your father touched me, I felt only the chill of it. I had hoped that of your father, you took nothing." She let out a heavy, weary sigh. "I see now I was wrong. You took his pride."

"Wha—"

"You may shroud it under the guise of fearfulness, or ’needing time,’" Rosalind interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "I care not. Those are your justifications. I only know that you have been blessed far more than any woman of our station has a right to expect. You found a man who not only respects you but seems to carry in his mind the weight of the plagues that usually only our gender is forced to endure. He has spent months drafting reforms he has absolutely no political or personal gain in, as a Prince or a man. He does it for you. Or because of you.I do not know.Sometime I think he is a monster in human skin and sometimes he behaves with the demeanor of an angel, doing things he has no business in tending to. He is a godsdamn walking contradictions."

Jasmine sat silentm making no move to reply

The Princess Mother stood up, her silk skirts rustling as she did. "Well, this is your life, not mine. It is your prerogative to see it thrive or let it wither. But take one piece of advice from an old woman who lived in a cage of ice: Take the day. I am sure the petitioners at your door can wait an afternoon. Think about whether the fear of taking action now is truly smaller than the fear of what will come through to pass with your inaction."

She leaned down and kissed Jasmine’s forehead, the same tender gesture she used to offer her daughters when they were children, usually after the heavy latch of the door had swung shut behind that man’s back.

With one final, meaningful look that weighed Jasmine’s soul further than any word that came from that conversation, Rosalind turned and left the solar, leaving her daughter alone with the ghosts of her making.