The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 157: No Care to Spare

Jerrick watched silently as Jessamyn endured the heartbreaking scene. The servants lingered nearby, unsure whether to follow her orders or defer to the powerful man in their midst.

Jerrick’s resolve hardened. He would not leave her to face this alone, especially when she needed him the most.

As he prepared to step inside, a familiar noise caught his attention. A bird perched on a nearby tree—a messenger owl—flapped its wings, drawing his gaze.

He approached, and the owl extended its leg, revealing a message. Jerrick retrieved the note, and the owl took flight. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he read the words: "It’s done".

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Jessamyn stood silently, watching Emily clumsily sweep the shattered remnants of her past. Each piece of broken glass, each overturned chair, each crushed flower was a fragment of a cherished memory with Joar.

The sight of Emily, the woman who had tormented her, now reduced to cleaning up the mess she had created, was both satisfying and heart-wrenching.

But the satisfaction was fleeting.

Jessamyn’s heart ached with every sweep of the broom, every piece of glass that was discarded like trash. Memories of dinners shared on their fine porcelain plates, of quiet moments in the garden they had lovingly tended, now lay in ruins.

The sight of the broken stained-glass window, a proud symbol of their home, shattered her spirit.

Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled Joar’s laughter, his gentle touch, and the dreams they had built together. Each memory now seemed tainted by the destruction around her. She couldn’t bear to stay any longer, to see the tangible symbols of their love reduced to rubble.

Her eyes scanned the garden, once vibrant with life, now trampled and broken. She felt a deep, gnawing pain, like a wound that would never heal. This place, their home, had been violated, and with it, her heart had been shattered.

She called for the servants and asked them to guard her room, no matter what. She didn’t want Emily to try anything sneaky.

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Jessamyn walked away from the cottage, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs.

Just as she reached the garden, she was pulled into a warm hug. She didn’t have to look up to see who that was. The warmth emitted by him was what she had gotten used to lately.

"I’m sorry, Jessamyn..." Jerrick murmured, burying his nose in her hair. "She shouldn’t have done that."

"She shouldn’t have..." Jessamyn replied meekly.

Emily’s actions were calculated, knowing she wouldn’t face the consequences because of Jerrick’s protection. The bitterness of that truth stung deeply.

Jerrick kissed her hair gently. Jessamyn, too numb to fully process her emotions, found an unexpected solace in his embrace. Against her better judgment, she let herself lean into him.

The pain that once radiated from him that used to wring her heart was replaced by a gentle understanding and compassion that she hadn’t anticipated.

Is that how he feels now?

Jessamyn stood in a haze of confusion and pain. She couldn’t fathom Jerrick’s emotions or why he felt the way he did. If he still loved Imogen, what were these feelings towards her that bordered on obsessive love?

"Help her," she said, her voice steady but her heart quivering. "I want my house back to how it was."

She needed his power, his influence, to restore what had been lost. Her eyes fell on the broken stained glass, a piece Joar had designed and installed himself. Could it ever be the same if replaced?

No, it wouldn’t. Everything was ruined, ruined forever.

Jessamyn stepped out of Jerrick’s embrace. These were just things, material possessions that could be replaced. But deep down, she knew it would never be the same. The irreplaceable essence of their home had been shattered along with the glass.

She willingly got intimate with Jerrick, for reasons she could barely comprehend herself, even after professing her enduring love for Joar. If Joar could see what had transpired, what would hurt him more? The shattered remnants of their shared memories, or her betrayal?

Jessamyn’s heart ached with the weight of her guilt and confusion. She had been driven to Jerrick by a mix of desperation and a yearning for protection, along with a feeling of something that she couldn’t comprehend.

Yet, standing amidst the ruins of her past, she couldn’t help but question the cost of her actions.

Jerrick watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and something deeper, something she couldn’t yet name. She turned to him, her eyes pleading.

"If you heard her, you’d know she is Imogen’s mother. Please," she whispered, her voice breaking, "make it right."

Jerrick nodded, understanding the depth of her pain. He brushed the hair falling on her cheek to the side and held her cheek gently. He had another piece of news to add. "You’ll hear the news soon. Your mother-in-law is dead," he said.

Jessamyn’s eyes widened. "What did you do?" she asked. She knew it was not the angel of death that came for that woman, but the god of death himself. She had a feeling. Why would he listen to her one plea?

"Nothing! I did nothing." Jerrick refuted immediately. "I was with you all the time." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Jessamyn couldn’t even spare the energy for a scoff. He was the archduke. He need not spare his presence for a murder. He had an army of men he commanded and immeasurable wealth.

"How?" she asked.

She looked for the care she had left for her mother-in-law. She couldn’t find any. She hoped the woman who murdered her unborn son enjoyed a little bit of the pain she endured.

"It’s ironic. She fell down the stairs... of Temple Mount. A bull chased her," Jerrick said.

Temple Mount? A thousand stairs? Well deserved.

Jessamyn was surprised when he said that woman was chased by a bull though. Was it truly not Jerrick? Or is that bull one of his trained subordinates?

Again, she tried to find care to spare. She couldn’t.

He moved to instruct the servants, his authoritative presence ensuring that they would work swiftly to restore the home. But Jessamyn knew that no matter how much they repaired, the soul of the place had been irrevocably altered.

Some things, once broken, could never be fully mended. The house might be restored, but the scars would remain, a testament to the love and loss that had defined her life.

Her legs naturally walked to the gravesite of her husband. She didn’t even know if she had the right to visit him. But he was all that she had left. Where else could she go if not to him?

She went to the grave. The area looked clean and mended. She thanked her brother in her heart. Fortunately, she was not thrown any surprises there.

She sat by Joar’s grave and leaned her head on his tombstone.

"I’m sorry, I took this long to return, Joar..."