The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 242: The Challenge

Jessamyn fisted her hands as she looked at Jerrick. He looked back at her and, seeing her expression, backed off with a smirk. Jessamyn knew that everything was under control seeing how relaxed Jerrick was. She looked at the man now making lewd gestures to his men standing far away.

Jessamyn let out a deep breath. This was not something between that man and her, personally. He was not insulting a single woman of Ayberia anymore. He had chosen to insult every woman in Ayberia. That too, after kidnapping and treating the Ayberian women as slaves.

He mocked the noble ladies who chose death before they got humiliated. They had to make that extreme choice in excruciating circumstances, and they need not get mocked.

If his brother was in with the smuggling of the women of Ayberia, he should have a hand in it too. He needed to be shown that not all Ayberian women choose to face death rather than disrespect.

Some fight back.

Jessamyn turned and smiled at Cordelia who was clutching her skirt hard. Looking at the smile on Jessamyn’s face, Cordelia relaxed. Isadora returned with the grapes and she saw what was happening. Jessamyn held her hand to calm Isadora.

The King had retired for a nap and the mistress was sitting in the King’s seat. She looked at Jessamyn covering her mouth with her fan.

With a resolve burning within her, Jessamyn stood up again, her eyes locked onto the man. She raised her voice so it could be heard across the arena, "You speak of courage and valor, yet your actions reveal nothing but cowardice and disrespect. You mock the honor of Ayberian women, but let me show you the strength we carry."

The crowd fell silent, every eye on her. Jessamyn stepped forward, her voice steady and commanding. "You insult my honor, the honor of my country, and the memory of those who have sacrificed themselves. I challenge you, not as a lady but as a champion of all women of Ayberia."

Gasps and murmurs filled the air. The man’s smug expression faltered, replaced by surprise and confusion. "A challenge?" he sneered. "What can you possibly do? Wrestle with me? I don’t mind!"

Jessamyn smiled, but this time, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. "I won’t put you through such tedious tasks. It’s a simple one. If I lose, I’ll come with you willingly. What will you do if you lose?" she asked.

That man looked pleased. "What does the lady want?" he asked.

"Will you accept in front of the masses that Altanian men are all impotent bastards?" Jessamyn said with a scoff.

With that, everyone, including the gathered Ayberians looked at Jessamyn with scrutiny for her vulgar speech.

However, a loud clap broke all the mutterings. Isadora clapped loudly and soon Cordelia joined, followed by William, the crown prince. Seeing the crown prince clapping, everyone else joined too.

"Is it finalized?" Jessamyn asked. "I swear on our mother watching over me that I will keep my side of the promise!" Jessamyn said pointing at the faint moon in the noon sky.

"If you’re that confident, then I agree too," the man said. "What’s the challenge?"

Jessamyn let out a deep breath and turned to her side. Cordelia’s maid had prepared the tea.

"Pour me a cup," Jessamyn said.

The maid didn’t understand what Jessamyn was so relaxed about when the situation was so dire, but under Cordelia’s order, she did what she was told.

"Oh, I’m so parched," Jessamyn fanned herself with her fan. "Ah, the challenge..." She got her handkerchief she kept neatly folded in her pocket and waved it standing by the railing.

"It’s my handkerchief. I embroidered it myself. The challenge is, I’ll drop this and you’ll have to catch it," Jessamyn said.

The man looked at her with his eyes wide. "That’s it?"

"Yes, you’ll have to catch it before I finish my cup of tea," Jessamyn said. "Do you agree to this challenge? Shall we proceed? I like to have my tea hot."

The man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That’s all? Catch a handkerchief before you finish your tea? I accept!" he declared loudly, confident that he could easily win.

Jessamyn smiled calmly, a glint of determination in her eyes. She glanced at Jerrick, who gave her a subtle nod of approval. The crowd watched with bated breath as Jessamyn prepared to drop the handkerchief.

With a delicate flick of her wrist, she released the handkerchief into the air. The man, still smirking, watched it float downwards as he got down from his horse.

Jessamyn lifted her teacup, blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a slow, deliberate sip.

As the handkerchief drifted closer to the ground, the man readied himself, his eyes locked on the delicate fabric. But just as he reached out to grab it, a sudden gust of wind caught the handkerchief, sending it fluttering out of his grasp.

He lunged after it, stumbling as it danced away from him.

Jessamyn took another leisurely sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before her. The crowd watched in a mixture of amusement and anticipation as the man scrambled to catch the elusive handkerchief.

Again and again, he tried to snatch it out of the air, but each time, the handkerchief evaded him, slipping through his fingers or being carried away by another unexpected gust of wind. The man’s frustration grew, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

Jessamyn, meanwhile, continued to sip her tea with a serene smile, her composure unwavering. She knew that Jerrick had orchestrated the wind currents subtly, using spells, ensuring that the man would never succeed in catching the handkerchief.

The wind died down suddenly, and the kerchief almost touched the ground. Thinking he won, the man lunged desperately, and yet missed the handkerchief completely, landing face-first in the dirt.

Jessamyn’s kerchief however didn’t touch the dirt as it was picked up by a raven.

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause, the tension breaking as they witnessed the man’s humiliation.

The raven flew to Jerrick and left the kerchief with him. Jerrick folded the kerchief and smelled it before safely storing it in his pocket.

Jessamyn finished her tea, setting the cup down with a satisfied clink. She looked at the man, who was now picking himself up, his face red with embarrassment and anger. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"It seems you were unable to catch the handkerchief in time," She scoffed. "What did you think of Ayberian women? Other men can’t touch our kerchief or even our shadows without our permission."

The Ayberian crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their respect for Jessamyn growing even stronger. She had not only defended their honor but had done so with grace and intelligence.

"Now, as agreed, you must uphold your end of the bargain," Jessamyn spoke.

"Say it!" the crowd cheered.

The man looked around and then glared at her, his pride wounded. His chest heaved out of anger but he had no choice.

He turned to the crowd, his voice trembling with rage. "Altanian men are..."

His voice was drowned by the sound of trumpets.