The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 232: Meeting His Mother

Suddenly, Beatrice’s eyes widened, and she tugged at Isadora’s sleeve. "There she is!" she whispered urgently.

Jessamyn and Isadora turned to see a woman in the crowd, her face a mix of worry and relief. Beatrice’s mother had found them.

Isadora gave Beatrice’s hand a reassuring squeeze. "It’s alright, Beatrice. We’re here with you."

Beatrice took a deep breath and nodded, her small hand clinging to Isadora’s.

Beatrice’s mother’s worry apparent on her face was replaced with disappointment and slowly anger. Beatrice’s hold on Isadora’s hand tightened and she practically clung to her arm.

As Beatrice’s mother approached, Jessamyn stepped forward with a warm smile, covering the both of them.

Bernice’s mother paused for a moment, to compose herself. She surely couldn’t speak her mind when in the presence of the Archduchess. She did a polite curtsey.

"We were just enjoying the market together. Beatrice is a wonderful companion," Jessamyn said, her smile unwavering.

Bernard’s mother pressed her lips, gathering her thoughts as she took in the hearty smile on Jessamyn’s face. Slowly, her expression softened.

"Beatrice, show your mother the bracelet," Jessamyn placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gently nudged her forward.

Beatrice stepped forward hesitantly and showed the bracelet to her mother. Jessamyn could see that Mrs. Eisenberg was not entirely pleased that Beatrice had accepted the gift, but she didn’t mind.

"This is Isadora Freemont. Actually, she is the Grand Duke’s sister," Jessamyn held Isadora’s wrist and pulled her to the front.

Isadora struggled briefly, caught off guard by the sudden introduction, but she composed herself within seconds.

"Mrs. Eisenberg," Isadora smiled sweetly.

"Your..." Mrs. Eisenberg tried to find the right word to address her.

"Isadora," Isadora said, holding Mrs. Eisenberg’s hand to stop her from curtsying.

Mrs. Eisenberg looked at Isadora with wide eyes, a layer of mist covering them as she registered Isadora’s simple, respectful demeanor.

"Thank you, Lady Isadora," Mrs. Eisenberg said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Just Isadora, please," Isadora replied gently.

Mrs. Eisenberg managed to stifle the smile that was peeping out from her hardened face. Jessamyn observed the hands of the older woman—calloused and worn from all the labor she did to raise her daughter. She had a feeling this stubborn woman didn’t accept Bernard’s help even when he offered it.

"You are pretty," Mrs. Eisenberg said. She could stifle the smile on her lips, but her eyes glimmered with happiness. There was a certain relief on her face as if she was hoping for goodness to follow.

"Thank you..." Isadora said, her face blushing red.

Jessamyn decided not to insist on visiting their home, sensing the awkward situation between them. They exchanged goodbyes, and though Beatrice didn’t want to leave, her mother gently but firmly pulled her along.

As Jessamyn and Isadora watched them walk away, Jessamyn couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for Mrs. Eisenberg. She admired her strength and resilience, but she also hoped that someday the woman would accept the help she needed.

Isadora broke the silence. "She’s strong, isn’t she?"

"Very," Jessamyn agreed.

Isadora sighed. But sooner her eyes brightened. "Milady, do you think she was happy with me?"

Jessamyn stopped and looked at Isadora. "She was delighted. Anyone will be delighted to have a lady like you as their daughter-in-law. I bet Bernard’s mother is thinking how smart Bernard is to choose you and forgive him for whatever he did."

Isadora smiled with her cheeks red. "You flatter me, Milady..." She patted her chest.

"I am telling the truth," Jessamyn said.

They resumed their shopping. Isadora was in good spirits and hummed a joyous tune as she walked with a skip in her step. The short encounter with Bernard’s mother had given her that much happiness. Jessamyn smiled, hoping that the happiness would last.

But as they wandered through the market, Jessamyn couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest. She had some terrifying glimpses of prophecy, and flashes of darkness that clouded her mind. She hoped none of that would come to pass regarding Isadora.

She had to protect Isadora. The young woman’s happiness was fragile, a delicate flower that needed nurturing and care. Jessamyn vowed to do everything in her power to ensure that Isadora’s joyful spirit remained unscathed.

"How is your brother doing?" Jessamyn asked, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and regret.

Since their last interaction had ended in disagreement, she hadn’t seen William. She had hoped he would calm down quickly, but it seemed his mother remained an open wound for him, a sensitive topic that still festered.

"He’s... busy these days," Isadora replied, her tone hesitant. "I saw him today, and when I mentioned I was meeting you, he acted a bit strange. Is something wrong, Milady?"

Jessamyn shook her head, though a shadow of worry darkened her eyes. "Nothing..." she began, then paused, her voice softening with urgency. "Isadora... please, protect William. He is very susceptible to emotional attacks. Watch for anyone who might try to manipulate him."

Isadora furrowed her brows, confusion, and concern mixing in her expression. "You’re talking strange, Milady... What’s going on?"

Jessamyn’s eyes bore into hers, pleading silently for understanding. "Will you or won’t you?" she pressed, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her request.

"I will," Isadora promised her voice firm despite her bewilderment.

Jessamyn let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, her heart aching with the hope that Isadora’s vigilance would shield William from the unseen threats she feared.

-----

The next day, Isadora made her way to Theodulf Castle, her steps purposeful as she headed toward Bernard. The castle was abuzz with activity, preparations for Bernard’s knighting ceremony in full swing.

She wanted to check on him, to see how he was holding up amidst the whirlwind of events.

As she approached the castle grounds, her eyes fell upon Bernard, sitting alone beneath a sprawling tree. His head was bowed, his posture slumped in a way that suggested he was lost in thought—or perhaps in some form of melancholy.

Isadora couldn’t help but wonder if he was struggling with the weight of the new title and lands he was about to inherit, as he seemed devoid of the joy one might expect.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Isadora crept closer, her movements as silent as a whisper. She drew near, positioning herself behind him, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, she called out, "Boo!"

Her shout was accompanied by a playful grin, a hope that she might startle him out of his reverie.

Her heart almost fell to her stomach when she heard him unsheathing the sword.

Am I going to die? That too in Bernard’s hands?