The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 275: Growing Distance

The absence of Jerrick from their marital bed that night was like a hollow ache in Jessamyn’s chest, a void that seemed to deepen with every passing moment. When she finally awoke the next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she instinctively reached out to the empty space beside her, fingers brushing against the cool sheets where Jerrick should have been. But then, her gaze shifted, and she noticed the tray beside her bed—carefully arranged with her supplements and a light breakfast.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Jerrick had visited her in the night. He might not have stayed, but he had come to check on her, to ensure she was taken care of. It was a small gesture, yet it filled her with a warmth that eased the loneliness gnawing at her heart.

The hours of that day dragged on endlessly, each minute stretched thin with worry and longing. Jessamyn waited, her heart heavy with the uncertainty that clouded her thoughts. Jerrick didn’t leave Bernard’s side, and though she wanted nothing more than to go to him, to offer her support, she hesitated. She knew how stubborn and protective he could be—especially in matters as grave as this. She feared that her presence might upset him or disrupt whatever delicate balance he was trying to maintain.

So she kept her distance, sending food to him through the servants, and feeling a small sense of relief each time she heard he had eaten. At least he was taking care of himself, even if only in small ways.

Jessamyn spent those long hours attempting to reach out to William and Isadora, hoping for some word of their well-being, but her efforts were in vain. Messages came back empty, with news that William had not returned to his castle. A feeling of helplessness settled over her like a shroud. All she could do was wait, trapped in the silence of her thoughts and the solitude of her chambers.

The second day brought with it the full moon, its pale light casting an ethereal glow over the world. Jessamyn’s nerves were on edge as she wondered if the lunar pull would exacerbate the situation.

That night, she sat by the window, her eyes searching the sky for answers that would never come. The castle was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Then, in the stillness, she heard it—the abysmal cries of a man echoing through the night air, filled with a pain so deep it made her blood run cold. Bernard, she thought, her heart breaking for him. But aside from that heart-wrenching sound, the night passed without further incident.

Jerrick didn’t return to her until the third day. When he finally did, he looked like a man who had been through a battle that had left him exhausted, but with a small, hard-won victory. Relief softened the lines of his face, though confusion still lingered in his eyes, as if he were trying to make sense of what had transpired.

"Is Bernard better now?" Jessamyn asked, her voice filled with cautious hope.

Jerrick nodded, the simple gesture a balm to her frayed nerves. But the tension between them hadn’t completely dissipated, a reminder of the unspoken things that lay heavy in the air.

"Did you get any news about Isadora?" she ventured, hoping for some reassurance.

"No," Jerrick replied, his voice tinged with an edge of worry that hadn’t quite left him.

Without another word, he pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his head against her chest. Jessamyn’s heart swelled with a rush of emotion as she held him close, her fingers gently threading through his hair. She didn’t push for answers or demand explanations. She knew that whatever he had been through, whatever decisions he had made, they had taken a toll on him.

The best she could do now was to offer him the comfort of her presence, a safe haven where he could let down his guard, if only for a moment.

Within minutes, Jerrick had fallen asleep in her arms, his body heavy with exhaustion. She felt his breaths even out, his grip on her loosening as he slipped into the depths of a restless sleep. But his slumber was short-lived. He woke with a start, a gasp tearing from his throat as though he had been jolted from a nightmare.

"I’ll have to check on Isadora," he said, his voice thick with determination as he pulled away from her.

"Have lunch before you go," Jessamyn requested softly, not expecting him to agree. To her surprise, he nodded and sat down at the table with her.

As they ate, Jessamyn couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, the weight of the past few days etched into his features. He glanced at her, his gaze softening as he asked, "Have you been eating well?"

"Yes," she replied, rubbing her belly with a small smile. "I have to, for the baby."

Jerrick’s expression softened even more, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looked like worry. "Do it for yourself, Mynah," he said, his tone almost pleading. "He’s draining you. You should be more careful... I want you here for a long time."

"I understand," Jessamyn said, her smile faint but reassuring. Yet, deep down, she knew her thoughts were far from his. No matter how much she tried to care for herself, she couldn’t escape the grim reality of her situation. Her time was limited, and though she wouldn’t endanger her baby’s health, she found it difficult to muster the same concern for her own well-being.

Jerrick watched her closely, as if trying to read the thoughts she kept hidden. "You scare me," he said suddenly, his voice carrying a weight that made her pause.

Jessamyn blinked, unsure of what he meant. He stood there, staring at her as though he was waiting for something—an explanation, a confession, anything. But she didn’t know what to say, didn’t even fully understand his words.

"I’ll be fine," she said eventually, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.

Jerrick sighed deeply, as if resigned to the fact that he would never get the answers he sought. He turned and walked away, leaving Jessamyn alone with her thoughts.

She stared at her plate, trying to force herself to finish the meal, but the food tasted like ash in her mouth. Her mind kept drifting back to the door through which Jerrick had just exited, her heart aching with the knowledge that she couldn’t share her burden with him.

Pushing the plate away, she stood up, her movements slow and heavy. Her life felt like it was unraveling, each thread pulled loose by the weight of secrets and fears. She couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was her fault—that she was the reason for the growing distance between them. Joar had grown distant from her mere months into their marriage, and now it seemed history was repeating itself with Jerrick.

But deep down, she knew the truth. She was hiding something from him, something that would change everything. If Jerrick knew the truth, he would do anything in his power to stop the inevitable, and she couldn’t allow that. She didn’t know if it would be worth it, if it would save her, or if it would only lead to more pain.

So she kept her secret close, even as it ate away at her, knowing that it might be the very thing that tears them apart.