The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 286: His Future

Brennan exhaled slowly, as if releasing centuries of held breath. The maturity in his gaze deepened, making him appear far older than the youthful form he inhabited. He gave a small nod, confirming Jerrick’s suspicion.

"Who bound the Queen Mother?" Jerrick pressed. "Was it the one-eyed seer?"

Brennan’s lips curled into a bitter scoff. "As if she had any true power," he spat. "The only strength she possesses is what we—the men of the Theodulf family—granted her. Her power lies in deception, in her venomous words that twist truths into weapons. We gave her that power by believing in her lies."

Jerrick felt a sharp pang in his chest as his ancestor’s words hit home. He knew it was true. The seer’s power was not in her visions but in the way she wielded words like a knife, sowing fear and doubt until they became reality. By falling prey to her manipulations, the Theodulf men had given her the strength to bind even the Queen Mother.

"She trapped herself there... waiting for her..." Brennan’s voice trailed off, filled with regret and something else.

Jerrick clenched his fists, trying to suppress the growing dread in his heart. The anger that had driven him here was slowly giving way to a gnawing fear—the fear of losing Jessamyn, of raising their child alone, of failing when it mattered most.

He looked up at Brennan, whose distant gaze suggested he was lost in a thousand thoughts. "Jessamyn is in danger. I need to know what I can do to save her. I won’t sit by and let fate take its course. I have to fight it, no matter what it takes. Please, guide me." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

At the mention of Jessamyn’s name, a wistful smile spread across Brennan’s face. There was such tenderness in that expression, so much love that it made Jerrick uncomfortable. It was unsettling to see his ancestor’s face soften like that, especially when talking about his own wife.

"Jessamyn... Is that her name?" Brennan repeated, almost as if savoring it. "She carries a warmth in her soul... much like my Selene did." The ghost’s smile deepened, but Jerrick felt a chill run down his spine. He didn’t like the way his ancestor was speaking—so reverent, so affectionate.

Trying to shake the unease, Jerrick blurted out a question that he knew would strike at Brennan’s heart. "Why isn’t Lady Selene with you if she was freed?" His tone was pointed, knowing it would touch a raw nerve. He didn’t care if it hurt Brennan; he needed answers.

Brennan’s expression wavered for a moment, but then he shrugged, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Women," he said dismissively, waving a hand in the air as if to brush away the complexities of love. "Who can ever know what they’re thinking? One moment, they adore those flowers you use to make tea, wear them in their hair; the next, they turn those same flowers into poison."

"Not for the Theodulf family," Jerrick muttered under his breath, his irritation growing. He didn’t appreciate how his ancestor was flippantly returning to talk about the datura flowers or how he spoke of Jessamyn with such familiarity.

Brennan’s eyes glinted with amusement as he rubbed his chest as if recalling a bittersweet memory. "Of course, she could never truly harm me or my descendants, even in her anger. Her love ran too deep for that."

Jerrick’s patience snapped. He shot to his feet, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "Do you know a way to save my wife or not?" he demanded, cutting through the nostalgic rambling. "I didn’t come here to listen to you reminisce about flowers and old loves. I need answers!"

Brennan’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. The warmth drained from his expression, replaced by a cold, hostile glare. His spectral form flickered, growing sharper and more imposing as his voice hardened. "Disrespectful ingrate!" he spat, his voice ringing with authority that made the air itself feel heavy. "Who raised you to speak this way to your elders? I don’t have to tolerate your insolence any longer!"

Jerrick’s heart raced as a surge of cold fear rushed through him. The playful ghost had turned into something terrifying—an embodiment of the power and pride of the Theodulf lineage. Brennan’s form seemed to swell with anger, the shimmering edges of his figure turning jagged as he prepared to vanish into the shadows.

"I am disrespectful?" Jerrick shouted back, his own anger flaring despite his fear. "I’ve tried to be patient, but all you do is talk about those cursed flowers! I don’t care about them! I need to save my wife!"

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Jerrick wondered if he had gone too far. Brennan’s ghost loomed over him, the glow around him darkening as if the very night responded to his rage.

"Insolent fool!" Brennan’s voice boomed, his figure beginning to blur, fading like smoke into the night. "You know nothing of what it means to bear this burden, and yet you dare speak to me this way? Perhaps you deserve to lose what you hold dear!"

Jerrick’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw his ancestor’s form thinning, threatening to disappear completely. "Wait!" he cried out desperately. "Please, help me save my wife." His voice cracked with raw emotion as he fell to his knees, tears stinging his eyes. "I’m begging you."

Brennan paused, his form halting mid-fade. The icy fury in his eyes softened, replaced by a flicker of sympathy as he looked at Jerrick kneeling before him. "Your wife is my daughter, the daughter I never had the chance to know," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Do you think I wish for her death?"

Jerrick clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Then why won’t you help me? You’re just going to let her die? You’d let her soul return to you instead of letting her live the life she deserves?"

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Brennan’s eyes narrowed as he considered Jerrick’s plea. Then, with a sigh, he turned to face him fully. "It is strange, isn’t it? You, my descendant, married to the reincarnation of my daughter... You carry my blood, and yet, you ask me to protect what is most precious to you." His tone was laced with irony, as if he found the situation amusing in its twisted absurdity.

"Jessamyn carries only the soul of your daughter, not your blood," Jerrick said fiercely. "There’s nothing strange or unnatural about our love. Don’t you dare call it weird."

Brennan studied him in silence for a moment before his lips curled into a faint smile. "You wish to know the future, is that it? You wish to see what lies ahead?" He stepped closer, his fingers glowing with a ghostly light. "Very well, see for yourself!" With that, he pressed his index and middle fingers against Jerrick’s forehead, sending a surge of cold energy rushing through him. "This is your future!"