The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 271: Bernard In Danger

Jessamyn’s brother, Ethan Beaumont, the esteemed Count of Ravensworth, had recently celebrated his wedding with Lady Silvia, and the event had been nothing short of a grand success. The ceremony took place in the magnificent halls of Ravensworth Manor, a historic estate that had witnessed countless grand occasions. Yet, none seemed to compare to the splendor that marked this union.

The wedding was the epitome of elegance, drawing in nobility from far and wide. Lady Silvia, a vision in her ivory silk gown, moved through the crowd with a grace that spoke of her noble upbringing. Her gown, with its intricate lace detailing and a train that flowed like liquid moonlight, caught the breath of every onlooker.

Ethan, tall and regal in his finely tailored suit, couldn’t take his eyes off his bride. His normally composed demeanor softened, his love for Silvia evident in every smile and whispered word exchanged between them.

The ceremony was a blend of tradition and personal touches, with vows that spoke of undying love and devotion, vows that made even the most hardened hearts in the room soften.

The reception was no less spectacular, held in the grand ballroom of the manor. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden light, and tables were laden with the finest delicacies. Laughter and music filled the air as guests danced and celebrated the union of two souls meant to be together.

Jessamyn, despite her growing discomfort from her pregnancy, couldn’t help but be swept up in the joy of the occasion. She watched her brother and his new wife with a heart full of love and pride, knowing that they had found something rare and beautiful in each other.

But as the echoes of that grand celebration faded into the past, Jessamyn’s thoughts were drawn to the future, to another wedding that was just a week away. Bernard and Isadora’s wedding loomed on the horizon, and with it, the promise of more joy, and perhaps a little more anxiety.

That morning, Jessamyn sat at her desk, the soft scratch of her quill on parchment filling the quiet room. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on her as she wrote, her mind deep in thought. Her pregnancy had made her more introspective, her thoughts often wandering to the child growing inside her.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, surprised to see Isadora standing there. Jessamyn quickly tucked her writings into a drawer and rose to greet her friend.

"Isadora!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

Isadora’s eyes immediately fell on Jessamyn’s belly, now clearly showing the signs of her pregnancy. With a delighted gasp, Isadora rushed forward, her hands reaching out to gently touch the swell of Jessamyn’s abdomen.

"How are you, baby?" Isadora cooed, her voice full of affection as she spoke to the unborn child.

Jessamyn’s face bloomed with joy. She had noticed that her baby seemed to react to Isadora’s voice, moving slightly whenever Isadora was near as if recognizing the love that radiated from her. It warmed Jessamyn’s heart to see how much Isadora already cared for her little one.

As Jessamyn sat by the window, she noticed the curious look Isadora gave her desk. "You were writing again?" Isadora asked, her nose wrinkling slightly as she caught the faint scent of ink. "I smell the ink. What are you writing so intently these days? I thought you would be embroidering your baby’s clothes, preparing for his arrival."

Jessamyn smiled, her eyes reflecting the secret thoughts she kept hidden. "I am preparing for my son’s arrival," she replied softly, though her words carried a depth of meaning that Isadora couldn’t quite grasp.

As they settled in, the maids brought in snacks and tea, and Isadora’s excitement about the upcoming wedding bubbled to the surface. She talked animatedly about the preparations, her eyes shining with happiness.

"The seamstress was amazed by the workmanship of the veil and the lace you gave me, Milady," Isadora said, her voice full of admiration. "She didn’t believe you made it all by yourself."

Jessamyn’s smile widened. "Did it fit well in your dress?" she asked, genuinely curious. The lace had been a labor of love, something she had poured her heart into, hoping it would add that extra touch of elegance to Isadora’s gown.

"It elevated the dress. I can’t believe I am wearing such a pretty dress at my wedding!" Isadora’s joy was infectious, and Jessamyn couldn’t help but share in her happiness.

Their lighthearted conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. One of the maids burst into the room, panting heavily. "Your Grace," she gasped, her face pale with anxiety, "a girl was at the castle gates and said something was wrong."

"A girl?" Jessamyn stood up, her heart skipping a beat.

"She said her name was Beatrice and she wanted your presence at her home. She said her brother’s life is in danger."

"Bernard?" Isadora’s voice trembled as she stood, her face drained of color, her eyes wide with fear. Her legs wobbled as she tried to steady herself, but the panic was too overwhelming. "Where—where is Beatrice?" she stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.

"She left in a hurry," the maid explained, her own fear evident.

Jessamyn quickly moved to Isadora’s side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We need to stay calm," she said, her voice firm but gentle. She knew she had to stop Isadora from rushing off in her panic. "We’ll find out what’s going on. I’ll have the carriage prepared, and Jerrick informed."

Isadora nodded, though tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Jessamyn could see the terror in her friend’s face, and she knew that the situation was dire.

On the way to Mrs. Eisenberg’s cottage, Isadora couldn’t stop fidgeting, her hands twisting the fabric of her dress as she whispered fears and worries under her breath. She mentioned a conversation she’d had with Bernard’s mother just a few days ago, where the woman had pleaded with her to call off the wedding, insisting that marrying Bernard would bring her nothing but sorrow. Isadora had refused, of course, but now those words echoed ominously in her mind.

"It’ll be fine, Isadora," Jessamyn said, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to comfort Isadora or herself. "Nothing would have gone wrong."

But Isadora couldn’t stop crying, the tears streaming down her cheeks as the carriage rolled on.

When they finally arrived at Mrs. Eisenberg’s cottage, the sight that greeted them made even Jessamyn freeze in her tracks. The scene before them was something out of a nightmare, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

Isadora let out a strangled cry, her legs buckling beneath her as the horror of what she was seeing threatened to overwhelm her. Jessamyn caught her before she could fall, holding her friend close as the reality of the situation sank in.