The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 101: By The Tomb
Jerrick looked around the garden. The jasmine flowers were in full bloom in the night, spilling their fragrance everywhere. The air was thick with their sweet scent, creating a sense of serenity and enchantment.
The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft glow, highlighting the delicate white petals that seemed to shimmer in the gentle breeze. However, Jerrick’s eyes landed on the gazebo out there, where the jasmine vines intertwined along the pillars.
The whole garden looked a little unkempt—someone had clearly made an effort to tend to it, but their lack of expertise was evident. Overgrown bushes crowded the paths, and weeds poked through the once-pristine flower beds.
Despite this, the natural beauty of the jasmine blossoms and the charm of the night air created a scene of quiet, untamed elegance.
He walked along the crowded pathway that led to the burial ground. The tomb itself was spectacular, featuring a marble statue of a battle horse rearing on its hind legs. The statue bore the crest of the Arkhipov family along with the emblem of Ayberia, a testament to his storied legacy.
A fitting grave for the warrior Joar was.
Despite the overgrown surroundings, the tomb stood as a proud monument, its grandeur undiminished by time and neglect. The tomb was well-maintained compared to the surroundings.
Jerrick wetted his lips.
Earlier, his intention was not just to tease Isadora. He wanted to gather some details. He came across one of the many shocking truths about Jessamyn today—her mother. He also had a nagging question in his heart.
He knew it was Joar who had left her a villa she would inherit under any circumstances. Duke Lagergren tried to steal the Jasmine Villa along with the Beaumont Mansion, and Jerrick asked William to interfere so that Jessamyn would get what Hector wanted her to have.
The Duke’s greed had almost cost her the inheritance, but Jerrick’s cunning and William’s assistance ensured that Jessamyn’s rightful legacy was protected. The Jasmine Villa, with its fragrant blooms and cherished memories, was safe in her hands, just as Hector had intended.
It was why Jerrick was confused about why Jessamyn left the Jasmine Villa to lead a nomadic life for three years. He could trace her in the Great Green Forest but he could never catch her at the Jasmine Villa.
Isadora knew the answer to his question.
Apparently, three years ago, Emily had locked Jessamyn out of the house when she returned from work. Ethan and Isadora were not home that rainy night as a hurricane passed through, trapping them elsewhere.
Jessamyn had spent the entire night at Joar’s grave, soaked and shivering as the storm raged on. The wind howled through the trees, and the rain fell in relentless sheets, but she remained by the grave, seeking solace from Joar’s memory.
Jerrick thought Jessamyn was not open with him, but she was not open with Isadora either. No matter how many times Isadora tried to ask Jessamyn about it, Jessamyn revealed nothing. Maybe that was who Jessamyn was—the one who guarded her sorrows as her treasures leaving others out of it, even if she loved them.
Whatever happened that night was a mystery, but Isadora told Jerrick that Jessamyn changed after that. She stopped talking and opted to stay away from Ravensworth and became more involved with the council. Isadora had to stick to her adamantly to not be left behind by her.
Even then, Jessamyn made frequent visits to the Jasmine Villa, only to maintain the tomb of her husband and baby and never to step foot inside the house. She didn’t even meet her brother when she went there. She’d sit silently by the grave for hours together, in silence, before leaving.
Jerrick sighed looking around. This was her house. It belonged to her. Why didn’t she throw Emily out? Why didn’t she seek refuge in the gazebo? She could think about her husband from there. Why did she torture herself by sitting by the tomb?
Today, he found out that she had an innate capability of...something. She might sense her husband around the tomb and hence, she ends up there often.
What that lady said about Jessamyn being tethered to the dead was ringing in his mind.
It was how he concluded. Hector was still here at the land of the living.
Hector didn’t cross the bridge. He was tethering himself to Jessamyn not allowing her to move on. It was understandable considering he died very young and suddenly; it probably was hard for him to let her go and attain the rest in peace.
But he cannot allow Hector to attach himself to Jessamyn anymore and drain her. She won’t be happy unless she severs the tether to Hector.
Jerrick drew a sigil around the tomb, which he knew would bring out the lost souls. Unless their soul wasn’t corrupted by being trapped in limbo, one could converse with them. It was a tricky spell that wouldn’t work on the souls that had rested or wanted to stay hidden.
He also had to pay a price for the spell—he would have to sacrifice a year out of his lifespan for one use of the spell. Using these types of spells was an expensive affair, after all. Nothing was free. Everything had a price.
Jerrick didn’t mind though. He’d do anything for Jessamyn’s wellbeing. What would he do with his life if Jessamyn stayed unhappy?
But before he could complete the spell, he sensed a disturbance above the tomb. He saw a figure rising from the tomb, diffusing the air around, like the water vapor rising from a hot soup or the hot air one would see in the desert.
Jerrick took a defensive position. How he would defend himself against a soul, he had no clue, but he picked up the pouch of salt he had in his coat. He had heard that ghosts are scared of salt.
"You are here, aren’t you? Hector..." Jerrick asked, his voice deep and commanding. He was alert but not scared for he didn’t sense any maliciousness around.
Slowly, the figure formed into a humanoid form. "You smell like my wife," the figure said. "Was that intentional...? Jerrick?" 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚
Jerrick clutched his hands into balls as he furrowed his brows and noticed the figure getting smokey and more visible. "Hector..." he muttered. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Hector?" A twinge of bewilderment was laced in his tone. "Who’s that?"
