The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 227: The Cottage (2)

Jaylene looked at her with knowing eyes, as if understanding the profound significance of this moment. "Mynah... Mynah..." it repeated softly, its voice filled with affection.

Jessamyn sank into a chair by the fireplace, her heart full. The bird was right. This place existed because she was Jerrick’s Mynah.

As she sat there, surrounded by the scent of jasmine and the warmth of the fire, Jessamyn knew that she had found a piece of herself she had thought lost forever. Memories of the time she spent with Jerrick flooded back, memories she had almost buried because of his betrayal. But now, in this magical place, she remembered why she fell in love with him in the first place.

It wasn’t just her love for him that had been powerful; his love for her had been equally strong. This realization helped heal the wounds in her heart, the ones she thought would never mend.

She glanced around the cozy room, her eyes landing on the fireplace. Above the mantle hung a painting that took her breath away.

Curious, she walked closer, her eyes widening as she took in the details. It was a portrait of her, around the age of sixteen. She recognized the pale blue dress she wore, the same dress she had donned just after turning sixteen.

In the painting, she stood among the flowers in the Beaumont garden, her long curly hair flowing freely down her back. Her cheeks were red, and her lips curved into a bashful smile. The lace ribbons on her dress were intricately detailed, each stitch and fold perfectly captured.

When she looked closely into her eyes painted with splendid details, she saw his silhouette reflecting in them. That was her, then. She had him in her eyes and heart. He had captured her essence so well.

It was signed simply "Jerry," not even his full name.

"I didn’t know he painted," Jessamyn mumbled, her voice filled with wonder.

She had always known Jerrick was talented in many things, especially gardening, but painting? This was new.

She stood there for a long time, staring at the painting. She had never thought of herself as particularly beautiful, but through Jerrick’s eyes, she saw herself differently. In his interpretation, she was not just pretty but stunning, a vision of youth and innocence.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of a different kind. They were tears of gratitude, of love remembered and cherished.

She reached out and gently touched the frame of the painting, feeling a connection to the past, to the girl she once was, and to the man who had loved her so deeply.

Is this how he sees me? Am I this pretty in his eyes?

Seeing the painting, Jessamyn felt a surge of curiosity about what more Jerrick had in the cottage. Determined to uncover every hidden secret, she began her exploration.

She opened every drawer on the first floor. Most of them were empty, others held some of his personal belongings.

The kitchen was almost bare, except for a few medicinal herbs he had stored. She found a cabinet filled with porcelain plates in the dining room—the kind she loved.

When she entered the bedroom on the first floor, her heart clenched. The room was almost empty, save for a single bed. Tears collected in her eyes as she took in the simplicity and solitude of the space. Memories of a conversation they had once shared came rushing back.

Jessamyn had told him that she wanted a "peace room" in their cottage, a place she could retreat to in case they had a fight. She didn’t want to sleep in the same room as him when she was mad. She wanted a pretty room to stay in until she calmed down.

Jerrick had been appalled by the idea. He argued that a married couple should always stay in the same room, whether they liked it or not. He believed they should solve whatever problem they had and then sleep in each other’s embrace, rather than going to bed upset.

His suggestion had amazed her. Even though he was only a couple of years older than her, he had everything figured out. His outlook on their relationship revealed how deeply he valued their bond.

She found his perspective incredibly endearing, but she was too proud to admit it. In a stubborn compromise, he had said he would take another room if she wanted to be alone. He would leave their marital bed, but she never would.

That room, he said, would remain empty, just like his life without her.

Standing in the doorway, Jessamyn felt the weight of his words and the depth of his love. The room was a testament to his commitment, a silent promise that he would always be there for her, even if it meant giving her space.

He didn’t forget a stupid conversation we had!

Her eyes landed on the stairs, curiosity bubbling up about what he had in the two rooms upstairs. She walked up the wooden steps, which creaked softly under her weight. Not a single speck of dust marred the surfaces; the immaculate state of the cottage amazed her. How had he maintained this place so perfectly?

At the top of the stairs, she found a narrow hallway with two doors. She turned to the room on her right, her face blooming with a smile as she took in the sight. The bedroom was beautiful, filled with furnishings that were old-fashioned yet exactly what she had desired a decade ago. The choice of drapes and bedspreads reflected her tastes perfectly.

The dressers and drawers were almost empty, just like the first floor, but the room had a cozy, lived-in feel. She noticed there weren’t many candle holders, recalling her cheeky suggestion that they wouldn’t need much light in the bedroom anyway.

Walking over to the window, she opened it, and a gust of warm breeze caressed her cheeks. She took in the breathtaking view: rolling hills and green meadows, dotted with wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. The scent of flowers filled the air.

This was not Roche.

The window had a sitting nook, and beside it, a small cabinet caught her eye. Inside were embroidery essentials.

She hadn’t specifically asked for it, but he must have envisioned her sitting there, with the gorgeous view, peacefully doing her embroidery. This was what he had planned for her—a serene, idyllic life filled with the simple joys she loved.

Jessamyn felt a lump in her throat as she realized the depth of Jerrick’s love and attention to detail. She could almost see herself sitting by the window, embroidering as the sun set, with the fragrance of jasmine wafting through the air.

She walked to the next room, her heart beating faster with anticipation. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open.