The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 233: His Unworthiness

Before she could fully process her fear, Bernard swung his sword. Time seemed to slow, each heartbeat a deafening drum in her ears.

She instinctively leaned back, but the sharp edge of his sword came squarely for her neck. The terrifying thought of her head rolling down once the sword hit her neck paralyzed her.

She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth together, a strange calmness washing over her. She had a feeling she wouldn’t die—not in Bernard’s hands.

"Isadora?"

The chillness of the metal blade kissing the delicate skin of her neck retreated. She slowly opened her eyes.

"Isadora!" Bernard’s voice trembled as he threw his sword down and hugged her tightly. He was shaking, his fear palpable.

Isadora felt his arms around her, his body trembling with the realization of what could have happened. She buried her face in his chest, relief and shock mingling in her tears.

Bernard held her even tighter, as if afraid to let go, as if by holding her he could erase the moment of terror they had just experienced. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Isadora was the one who came out of the reverie first. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sneaked up from behind you," she said, patting his trembling back. She should have known better than to sneak behind a seasoned warrior lost in deep thought.

"You’re not hurt? You must be startled. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Isadora..." Bernard’s voice broke as he held her cheeks, his eyes filled with regret and fear.

Isadora smiled ear to ear. "I am not hurt. I am impressed with your ability. You truly are a great warrior..." She placed her hand over his, feeling the warmth of his touch and the intensity of his concern.

"Right..." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "I made another one for you. Here..."

Bernard looked at the delicate embroidery on the handkerchief, a symbol of her affection and thoughtfulness. His eyes softened as he took it from her, his hands still shaking slightly.

"Thank you, Isadora," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I’ll treasure it."

He said that but his hands were still shaking.

She smiled and held his hand tightly. "Just promise me you won’t swing your sword so quickly next time," she teased gently, trying to lighten the mood.

But her words did nothing to change Bernard’s demeanor. Isadora looked at the furrowed line between his eyebrows, and her heart sank. What she thought would be a fun moment had turned into a serious issue.

However, she wanted to address this immediately. She could see that Bernard was feeling down, thinking he was about to hurt her. She didn’t see it that way and wanted him to understand.

She held his hand and gently pulled him to sit with her. "Look at me," she said softly.

"No, Isadora. I am not worthy of you. I am violent and only know how to draw blood. I thrive on hurting others. I cannot love; I am a barbarian. I should be exiled from society—"

"Stop it!" Isadora’s loud shout cut through his self-deprecating rant.

Bernard blinked, looking at Isadora, now fuming with anger.

"Don’t you dare talk to me this way, Bernard! Don’t you dare say you cannot love! Not to me, not ever. I’ve experienced your love. And don’t you talk about exile or other stupid things. Remember, I am going to be where you are..."

Her voice trembled with emotion, but her grip on his hand was firm and unwavering. She continued, her eyes locking onto his, "You are not a barbarian. You are a man who cares deeply, who protects fiercely, and who loves profoundly. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it. And I am not going to let you push me away because of some misguided notion of unworthiness."

Tears welled up in Bernard’s eyes as he absorbed her words. He saw the determination and love in her gaze, the strength in her voice. Slowly, he began to understand.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I just... I never want to hurt you."

Isadora softened, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I know, Bernard. And you didn’t hurt me. You protected me, even in that moment of instinct. You are good, and you are worthy of love. My love."

Bernard pulled her into a gentle embrace, his heart swelling with gratitude and a newfound resolve. "Thank you, Isadora. I don’t deserve you. Even my mother thinks so. But I will do my best to be the man you see in me."

"You already are," she whispered back, holding him tightly. "You already are."

In Isadora’s gentle embrace, Bernard began to calm down. He lay on her lap, finding solace in the feeling of her slender fingers combing through his hair. Closing his eyes, he let the soothing presence of Isadora wash over him, her touch grounding him in a way nothing else could.

Once she was sure Bernard had calmed down, Isadora gently brought up the question that had been weighing on her mind. "Have you talked to your mother?" she asked softly.

She knew his mother had said hurtful things to him, and it pained her to see how deeply those words affected him. More than the scare of their earlier encounter, it was his mother’s words that seemed to haunt him.

Bernard’s breath hitched, and traces of stress appeared on his face as he opened his mouth to speak. "Bernard," Isadora whispered, resting her cheek against his. "Tell me what she said."

He remained silent for a while, and Isadora gave him the space to gather his thoughts. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "She’s not to blame..."

Isadora’s heart pounded in her chest, but she waited, letting him continue at his own pace.

"It’s my fault," Bernard said, his voice thick with emotion. "She always saw the violent side of me and... She’s scared of me. She thinks I am not suited for any woman, especially someone like you."

Isadora listened, her heart aching for him. She couldn’t understand why his mother couldn’t see beyond his warrior facade to the kind and gentle man she loved.

"I love you, Bernard," Isadora said with unwavering conviction. "I think you’re handsome when you wield your sword. I don’t believe you spill innocent blood. You are a warrior, a courageous warrior, and at the same time, you are the gentlest man I have ever known. I love that about you."

Bernard’s eyes met hers, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he found was sincerity and love. Her words began to wash away the self-doubt and pain that had been festering inside him.

He lay on her lap again, his face blooming with a smile.

"You are enough for me, Isadora..." he said, his heart swelling with joy.