The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 276: Her Loneliness

Jessamyn descended the grand staircase slowly, her heart a heavy knot in her chest as she prepared to bid Jerrick farewell. But as she reached the bottom step, she froze. There, in the dimly lit corridor, was Jerrick—walking toward the drawing room. And beside him, unmistakably tall and imposing, was William. Her breath caught in her throat, and a jolt of surprise raced through her. William was supposed to be with Isadora, away from the castle. His sudden appearance startled her, and she couldn’t hide the shock in her eyes.

Instinctively, Jessamyn dipped into a polite curtsey, the movement almost automatic. But when she straightened, she noticed the bewilderment in William’s eyes. It wasn’t the kind of response she expected—his expression was one of mild confusion, as if he was unsure of how to respond to her formality. They had grown beyond such stiff courtesies; they were friends now, allies who had shared moments of trust and understanding. For her to revert to such distant manners was both surprising and unsettling to him.

"Isadora?" Jessamyn asked, her voice tinged with concern as she addressed William directly. Her eyes searched his face for answers. "Is she doing fine?"

William’s stern expression softened. "She’s gone to Bernard," he answered, a hint of relief in his voice.

Jessamyn’s shoulders visibly relaxed as she exhaled the breath she had been holding. "I’m glad," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. For a brief moment, she considered joining them, but the thought of lingering in their company suddenly felt unbearable. Her emotions were too fragile, her thoughts too conflicted.

"Then I’ll be in my room," she added, before dipping into another curtsey. The formality, so unlike her, left Jerrick and William momentarily stunned. Before either of them could say anything, she turned and walked away, her steps brisk and purposeful.

Both men exchanged a look, neither missing the odd tension in her departure. Jerrick had been on the verge of asking Jessamyn to visit Bernard in the barracks, while William had intended to invite her to join their conversation. But her swift exit made it clear that she wanted no part in either interaction. It wasn’t anger or coldness that drove her away—no, it was something else entirely. It was almost as if she was afraid, running from something she couldn’t face.

William’s brow furrowed with concern as he glanced back at Jerrick, who remained rooted to the spot, his gaze still following Jessamyn as she disappeared down the hall. Pain flickered in Jerrick’s eyes, an emotion he rarely let show. William sighed, recognizing the heavy burden of unspoken words between them.

Trying to lighten the mood—or at least gain some insight—William poured Jerrick a drink. The clinking of crystal echoed in the silence between them, each drop of liquid a reminder of the tension in the air.

"I’ve been meaning to talk to Jessamyn," William ventured carefully, attempting to address the obvious distance between her and Jerrick without prying. "Is she not feeling well? She seems... off."

Jerrick’s exhale was sharp and exasperated, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. The usually composed leader now looked almost weary, his restraint fraying at the edges. "Who knows what it is this time—whether she’s haunted by the past or fearful of the future?"

His tone was laced with a mixture of frustration and sorrow, a bitterness that William rarely heard from him.

The remark left William momentarily speechless. He hadn’t realized the rift between them had grown this deep. He took a sip of his drink, weighing his words carefully. He knew better than to meddle in another man’s marriage, especially Jerrick’s, but he couldn’t ignore the growing chasm between his friends.

"Being soulmates isn’t enough," Jerrick continued, his voice quieter now, tinged with resignation. "Marriage is hard when she doesn’t trust me—not fully." The vulnerability in his words was like a confession, a crack in the armor of the steadfast, stoic man that everyone knew him to be.

William remained silent, unwilling to intrude further. He sensed that Jerrick needed to vent, and his presence alone might be enough. But still, he felt a pang of empathy for Jessamyn. Whatever she was grappling with—whether memories of her past or anxieties about the future—was clearly eating away at her. And now, in her self-imposed isolation, she was slipping further into despair.

"I haven’t been fair to her either," Jerrick admitted, almost as if he was talking more to himself than to William. "I’ve kept her at a distance, shut her out when I should have been her anchor. And now she’s staying indoors, shut away like a caged bird. I’ve pushed her into this loneliness, and she’s probably feeling more isolated than ever."

William’s gaze softened with understanding. "Jessamyn’s always been delicate, Jerrick," he said gently. "If she’s anxious about the past or fearful of what’s to come, you can bring her back to the present—give her a reason to be happy in the here and now. The past few days would have been tough on her too. She’s got no one around her who can anchor her."

Jerrick’s expression darkened with guilt as he recalled the harsh words he had thrown at Jessamyn the other day. He had accused her of not caring for Isadora when he knew she cared more for others than for herself, a cruel statement that still echoed in his mind.

He knew better. Jessamyn was fragile, especially when it came to emotions. Even the slightest unkindness wounded her deeply. He shouldn’t have lashed out at her like that, not when she was only trying to help. Regret gnawed at him, tightening his chest.

"Isadora’s still holding up, right?" Jerrick asked abruptly, his voice hoarse as he changed the subject. The weight of what he needed to say to Jessamyn lingered in the back of his mind, but for now, he pushed it aside. He would talk to her later.

William’s eyes widened in disbelief. "She didn’t turn," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The incredulity in his tone was unmistakable.

"What?" Jerrick’s body stiffened, his muscles tensing with shock. His brows furrowed deeply, and his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "That’s impossible."