The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 146: The Division

"Yes, I know," Jessamyn forced a smile on her face, though it felt like a fragile mask. "I was not... I didn’t... I’ll go... pack," she said, her voice trembling as she turned and hurried upstairs.

Once in her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. It was her fault for making assumptions. She had hoped, even if just for a moment, that Jerrick might have changed his mind. But it appeared he was steadfast in his decision and wouldn’t waver.

Jessamyn moved to her bed and began packing, her hands shaking slightly. As she folded her clothes and gathered her belongings, her mind raced with thoughts and emotions.

The excitement she had felt earlier had been replaced by a sense of dread and resignation. She had thought this trip to Ravensworth might be her chance at freedom, a chance to reconnect with her past and maybe, just maybe, find a way out of the marriage she had never wanted.

But now, that hope seemed distant and unattainable. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

I’m coming Joar...

She heard him leaving on his horse. She sat by the windowsill and stared at the rows of trees outside.

-----

The Council Chamber, Lunaris Fortress, Official residence of the King of Ayberia.

Jerrick stood at the threshold of the Council Chamber, his eyes sweeping over the grand yet oppressive room. Though he had been here countless times, today felt different, laden with an intensity that matched the kingdom’s precarious state.

The vaulted ceilings soared above him, adorned with frescoes that depicted the legendary heroes and mythical creatures of Ayberia’s past. These grand images once filled him with pride, but now, they seemed like relics of a bygone era, unable to offer solace or guidance. Tall, arched windows lined the walls, partially obscured by heavy velvet drapes that allowed only narrow beams of light to penetrate, casting long, haunting shadows across the polished marble floor.

Massive tapestries hung between the windows, bearing the vibrant colors of Ayberia’s coat of arms. Their rich fabric absorbed the low murmurs of the gathered ministers, a mix of seasoned advisors and ambitious newcomers. Jerrick noted the anxiety in their eyes, the way their glances darted between the King and the Crown Prince. The air was thick with unspoken fears and barely concealed frustrations.

At the far end of the chamber, the King’s throne sat on a raised dais. Its once-gilded frame now looked tarnished, much like the man who occupied it. His frail hands clutched the armrests as if seeking to anchor himself in the present.

To his right stood his young mistress, a beautiful yet controversial figure in this traditionally male-dominated space. Her presence was a bold defiance of custom, and her eyes flickered with both defiance and anxiety.

Looking at Jerrick, she smiled. Jerrick ignored her to look at William, seated opposite the Crown Prince. His face was a mask of barely concealed frustration. The Crown Prince, seated rigidly, radiated a controlled fury. His jaw was clenched, his fists resting on the table before him, and his eyes held a cold determination.

"Father, we cannot ignore the rising unrest in the provinces any longer. We must act decisively, or we risk losing control entirely," the Crown Prince declared, his voice tight with anger.

The King mumbled incoherently, his fingers tapping a nonsensical rhythm on the armrest. His mistress leaned down, whispering something in his ear, but he responded only with a distant, vacant gaze.

Jerrick’s heart ached at the sight of his once-mighty ruler reduced to this. The Grand Duke stepped forward, his tone authoritative. "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince speaks the truth. The kingdom is on the brink of chaos. We must—"

"Enough!" the King suddenly bellowed, his voice cracking. The chamber fell into stunned silence. Eldric looked around, eyes wild, before they settled back into that haunted vacancy. "Enough..." he repeated, this time in a whisper.

Jerrick exchanged uneasy looks with the other ministers. Despite the room’s resplendent decor, it felt cold and foreboding, mirroring the kingdom’s descent into turmoil. The flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced ominously on the walls as if the very essence of the room was alive with the kingdom’s anxieties.

In that moment, Jerrick realized the full weight of the crisis they faced. The future of Ayberia hung in the balance, and the King’s incapacity was glaringly evident.

"You..." The King pointed his shaking finger at the Crown Prince. "Stay silent. You will not be implicated in anything."

One of the ministers stood up, adjusting his long grey beard. "It is not wise to hide the achievements of the Crown Prince. The people of Ayberia need to hear that their Crown Prince is brave and—"

"Shut up!" The King shouted, his entire body trembling. Celena, his young mistress, rubbed his chest and offered him a hot bowl of something. He drank it without protest.

"My father listened to you. I won’t. You don’t have my family’s interests at heart!" the King shouted, ending in another bout of coughing.

Jerrick pressed his lips together and glared at the old minister. William quickly darted a glance at the Crown Prince to see if he had taken the old man’s words to heart. He knew Louis was sensitive about this issue.

Seeing Louis’s demeanor harden with barely concealed hatred, William felt a pang of sadness. He knew how deeply the Crown Prince yearned for his father’s approval and how the King’s public outbursts only deepened the rift between them.

And there surely was a seed of hatred in Louis’s heart against Jerrick for "plundering" his achievements. Jerrick appeared to be oblivious to the change on Louis’s face. William empathized with Louis. The King suppressed Louis at every turn, citing his safety.

Jerrick had maintained his focus on the broader picture, often overlooking the intricacies of others’ emotions. He operated under the assumption that everyone should prioritize the greater good, much like he did. So far, this approach served him well. But would it help him in the future?

William hoped Louis could overcome the jealousy he harbored towards Jerrick and address his issues with his father.

William’s gaze shifted to the woman standing by the King’s side. Unlike her usual gentle and aloof demeanor, she now emanated a sense of menace. Ever since she had stepped foot inside the Council Chamber, a division had formed among the ministers.

Her conceited smirk was unmistakable, barely concealed as she glanced at Louis.

William couldn’t shake the feeling that the old man’s suspicions were warranted. It seemed she was intent on tarnishing the public perception of the Crown Prince, whispering poison into the King’s ear and keeping Louis from his rightful duties.

What could her intentions be? Who was pulling her strings?

Their eyes met, and William held her gaze without flinching. His resolve burned fiercely within him: he would not allow her to harm those he held dear.