The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 215: Bernard’s Trouble

They reached Roche, and while Jessamyn stayed in the Theodulf castle, busy redecorating it, a lot happened in the kingdom. Jerrick had ordered everything brought into the castle by Imogen to be thrown out, and he asked Jessamyn to fill the place with items she liked.

Under the direct orders of the crown prince, all lords mobilized their men to scout the Great Green Forest for any smuggling gangs.

The orders were clear and ruthless: no prisoners. Any smuggler found was to be killed on sight. Reports of mutts—twisted, dangerous creatures—caused a stir among the common people.

Whispers of the Lycaon Wulfhednar’s arrival spread as sightings of a white wolf in the forest eliminating the mutts were confirmed. The wolf had also revealed a crucial piece of information: silver weapons could kill the mutts.

This revelation changed everything. As the guards realized that silver killed the mutts and watched as the abominable beings turned back into their human form upon contact with silver, a newfound respect grew for the Purple Hood. Previously misunderstood by the public as a mindless killer of innocent people in the forest, the Purple Hood was now seen as a hero, hunting the mutts and protecting the realm.

Back at the castle, Jessamyn’s touch transformed the once cold and imposing structure into a warm and welcoming home. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, vibrant flowers filled the vases, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the halls.

Every corner reflected her taste and style, creating a sanctuary amidst the chaos outside.

Jerrick found solace in her efforts. He would often watch her as she meticulously arranged flowers or selected fabrics, her concentration evident in the slight furrow of her brow. She brought life back into the castle, and in doing so, she brought life back to him.

"Do you like it?" Jessamyn asked one evening as they stood in the newly decorated sitting room. She looked at him with hopeful eyes, her hands clasped in front of her.

Jerrick smiled, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. He looked around. This was the sitting room he used for his guests and it not only showed his wealth, it showcased the pride of Roche.

Not all the pieces in there were expensive. The fabrics used were what Roche was famous for and she had added the handiwork of his people along with the gifts he received that expressed the love he received from his people.

He never thought that his sitting room could express his heart this much. Then again, she knew his heart and found a perfect way to express it.

"It’s perfect, Jessamyn."

She smiled back, relief washing over her. "I’m glad. I wanted it to feel... right."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "As long as you’re here, it will always feel right."

Their moments of peace were often interrupted by urgent news from the forest. Each report of a smuggler killed or a mutt sighted brought a mix of relief and tension. The castle, now a haven of warmth and beauty, stood in stark contrast to the dangerous world outside its walls.

Jessamyn took frequent walks in the marketplace, asking people about their opinions. She let the commoners approach her with their petitions and to show their love. She helped the poor and empathized with their struggle.

Although she hated the heavy snow and coldness, she braved it. She would be bundled up and dressed lavishly and yet she never lacked people around her. She ensured a friendly environment around her.

Almost all of them mentioned her with a smile on their faces, their words filled with adoration for her.

As the days passed, the people of Roche began to notice the changes within the castle. They spoke of the Archduchess’s kindness and the Archduke’s unwavering resolve.

They blessed their lord and lady from the bottom of their hearts.

One evening, Jessamyn was walking in the garden. She was perplexed by the fragrant scent of jasmines blooming in the midst of winter. The sweet, intoxicating aroma filled the cold air, and she paused to breathe it in, wondering at the oddity of such a thing.

She had been trying to find out the origin of that scent but failed each time. She sensed it close, but once she got closer, it would appear to disappear, as if something was guarding the scent.

She decided to find out the jasmines that dat.

As she continued along the garden path, she noticed a shadow moving among the trees. Moments later, a figure emerged, and Jessamyn recognized him immediately.

"Milady," Bernard said, dropping to one knee in front of her.

Bernard had taken to calling her Milady, just like Isadora did. Isadora had tried to correct herself a few times, but Jessamyn had asked her not to. She still couldn’t get used to being addressed the same way as Jerrick.

Bernard was the only person who would call Jerrick ’Wulfhart’ to his face, never addressing him by his official title. Jessamyn knew the only reason Bernard called her ’Milady’ was because Isadora impressed him.

"Bernard," Jessamyn greeted him warmly, though the formality of his gesture made her slightly uneasy. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"Forgive the intrusion," Bernard said, rising to his feet. "But there is something I need to know."

"Is it about your perceived notion of Jerrick ignoring you?" Jessamyn asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Isadora had been confiding in her about Bernard’s affliction and Jerrick’s apparent cruelty in keeping the truth from Bernard. Isadora’s emotions swung wildly—angry one moment and grateful for Jerrick’s kindness the next.

"It’s not my perception. It’s obvious. He’s keeping me away from him. I am watching him from a distance. I cannot bear it. If Wulfhart thinks I did wrong, ask him to kill me. I do not—"

"If he kills you, who will look after Isadora?" Jessamyn interjected, her tone firm yet gentle.

Bernard’s eyes widened, and his lips trembled. "I am sorry, Milady. I do not want to leave Isadora. But I want to know why Wulfhart hates me now..."

For the first time, Jessamyn noticed how young Bernard was. With his wide eyes and trembling lips, he looked like a lost child. He looked pitiful.

"Bernard," she said softly, taking a step closer to him. "He does not hate you, Bernard. He loves you and wants the best for you. In fact, he is preparing a sur~"

"Why are you bothering my wife?"

Jerrick’s loud voice interjected her.