The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 167: Flicker of Hope

Exhausted from her grief, Jessamyn fell into a deep, fitful sleep in Jerrick’s arms. As she drifted off, the familiar dream began to unfold once more.

She stood at the edge of the chasm, a place she had visited many times in her dreams. But this time, the other side, where Joar usually appeared, was empty. There was only darkness and an eerie silence that sent chills down her spine.

The absence of Joar was a void that seemed to swallow all light, leaving her with a sense of loss that cut even deeper. But she knew that Joar was in a better place. He didn’t have to bear with the darkness and emptiness anymore. He was at peace.

Turning away from the chasm, she found herself back in the garden. The air was warm and filled with the scent of blooming flowers. The sun cast a gentle light, creating an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.

It was a stark contrast to the darkness across the chasm. She decided to stay in the garden where there was life. There was no longer any confusion in her heart.

The wolf cub she met often in her dreams ran to her and nuzzled against her, offering a comfort that she desperately needed. The cub’s presence was soothing, its warmth seeping into her weary heart, lifting her spirit.

She knelt down, running her fingers through the cub’s soft fur, feeling a connection that gave her strength. In this dream, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the loyal companionship of the wolf cub, Jessamyn felt a flicker of hope.

When Jessamyn awoke, she found herself enveloped in the strong arms of Jerrick. Her fingers were tangled in his chest hair, the texture both comforting and grounding. He was shirtless, his skin warm against her touch. His breathing was steady and deep, like a soothing rhythm.

Carefully, she untangled her fingers from him, mindful not to disturb his sleep. She checked herself and realized she was in her chemise. He must have undressed her—again.

She let out a deep breath, a mixture of gratitude and confusion swirling within her. He was there, just like he promised. He didn’t leave her.

As she inhaled, his scent filled her senses, a heady blend of musk and something uniquely Jerrick. It was an intimate fragrance that made her heart flutter and her resolve waver.

Not wanting to remain there and let her senses betray her, she quietly rose from the bed. Her hair was a tangled mess, evidence of her restless sleep. She moved with deliberate caution, ensuring she didn’t wake the sleeping warrior beside her.

Jerrick, even in his slumber, exuded a presence that was both formidable and tender.

Once free of the bed, Jessamyn stretched, feeling the tension ease slightly from her body. She needed a bath, a chance to cleanse not just her skin but her troubled mind as well.

She took a quick look around the villa. It was almost fixed and everything broken was cleaned—except for the window. She checked her room and Jerrick must have fixed that room too. She checked and nothing was missing.

She was relieved.

She prepared hot water, the steam rising, promising a momentary escape from her grief. 0Slipping into the warm water, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. The heat seeped into her muscles, loosening the knots of tension. She allowed herself a brief respite, closing her eyes and letting the water soothe her.

After her bath, she dried her hair, the damp strands falling heavily against her shoulders. She brushed her long locks with care, each stroke a meditative act that helped calm her thoughts. With practiced fingers, she braided her hair, the familiar motion bringing a semblance of order to her otherwise chaotic emotions.

As she finished, she felt a small sense of renewal. It wasn’t a cure for her sorrow, but it was a step—a tiny, necessary step toward finding her strength again.

She checked on Jerrick and he was still asleep. The sun had risen and Jessamyn started on breakfast. The servants brought her fruits and vegetables. They offered to cook, but Jessamyn needed something to do.

She did a wide variety of dishes. Just as she was finished, Jerrick woke up and walked out of the room, still shirtless, and unconcerned that he was shirtless in front of the servants. Seeing him in that attire, or lack thereof, the servants excused themselves.

Jessamyn could only sigh.

Jessamyn decided to prepare a bath for Jerrick as well, suspecting he hadn’t had one the previous night. She mixed the hot water, watching as the steam rose and filled the bathroom, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere.

As she was finishing, Jerrick walked in, half-naked, his presence commanding even in this vulnerable state. His muscles rippled with each step, and his hair was tousled from sleep. He leaned against the doorframe, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he teased, his voice low and suggestive. "Are you planning on joining me, or is this special treatment just for me?"

Jessamyn pressed her lips, trying to hold her indifference. She turned to face him, trying to muster a composed response. She couldn’t help but observe him. For a warrior who faced the battles on the front lines, there weren’t any scars on his chest.

Except on his shoulder, there was a mark—the mark of her teeth.

She gulped and bowed her head, placing the towel folded by the side. "I thought you could use a bath," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jerrick stepped closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I could definitely use one," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers. "But it’s always more enjoyable with company. Care to reconsider?"

Jessamyn’s heart raced at his words, a mix of emotions flooding through her. She looked down, biting her lip, unsure how to respond. Jerrick reached out, gently lifting her chin with his fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes.

He was worried for her he couldn’t sleep for a long time. He could only sleep when she fell asleep. He must have been very tired for he fell into a deep sleep.

He thought she would be wallowing in sorrow for longer and when she was not there beside him when he woke up, his heart almost stopped.

But he could see that she had bathed and he smelled food in the house. She smelled like food too. She might have cooked. That meant she was feeling better than last night.

He teased her a little to understand her feelings. She was still out of it, he could gather. If she was completely fine, she would have pushed him away.

His heart melted seeing her.

"Thank you, Jessamyn," he said, his tone turning serious for a moment as he pointed at the bathtub. "For this... You thought about me, even when you’re hurting. That’s one of the many reasons I..."