The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 307: Trapped

What they had done to her was cruel, and it was his fault for not protecting her. Maybe, he thought, whatever punishment she wished upon him was justified. Maybe he deserved to suffer for what had been done to her.

Lost in his thoughts, William didn’t notice Elaine’s movements as she began to draw something around the bed, her fingers working quickly, almost desperately. It wasn’t until he heard the sharp scrape of metal that he snapped back to reality, his eyes widening in horror as he saw Elaine holding a knife, her expression twisted with a mixture of resolve and madness.

"Stop!" William’s heart lurched in his chest, panic surging through him as he watched her raise the blade. Was she going to hurt herself? The thought of her in pain, even now, was unbearable. He had to save her—that was his only thought.

He tried to leap from the bed, but he was too late. Before he could reach her, Elaine slashed the knife across her palm, and a single drop of blood fell to the floor. As it hit the ground, the floor beneath them lit up with an eerie glow, a magic circle springing to life around the bed.

William felt a powerful force surge through the room, the energy from the circle trapping him where he stood. He struggled against it, but it was no use—the magic was too strong, binding him in place as if the air itself had turned to iron around him.

He looked at Elaine, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and sorrow, realizing that the woman he had once loved had now become his captor.

The room was bathed in the glow of the magic circle, the light casting strange, dancing shadows on the walls. William could feel the power thrumming through the air, an ancient and dark energy that wrapped itself around him, seeping into his very being. The pain of betrayal was a dull ache compared to the terror that now gripped his heart.

Elaine stood at the edge of the circle, her eyes glinting with a triumphant light. "This," she said, her voice eerily calm, "is the beginning of your real punishment, William. For everything you’ve done to me, for every lie, every betrayal... you will suffer. And you will watch as I take from you the things you care about more than yourself."

William’s breath came in ragged gasps as he fought against the invisible bonds that held him. He had never felt so powerless, so completely at the mercy of another. The room spun around him, the magic tightening its grip, squeezing the life from his body, his soul.

Elaine’s voice echoed in his ears, a haunting melody of pain and vengeance. "Now I know for sure I am your mate. Oh, I love this! Because from now on, every breath you take will be filled with regret. And there will be no escape."

As the light from the magic circle intensified, William’s vision blurred, the world around him fading into darkness. His last thought before consciousness slipped away was of Jessamyn—of the woman who trusted him enough to leave her son with him, the woman he had failed, just as he had failed Elaine.

He had tried to protect those he loved, but in the end, he had only brought them more pain.

And as the darkness claimed him, the only sound that remained was the echo of Elaine’s voice, promising him a torment that would last beyond his wildest nightmares.

Slowly, he slipped away.

-----

Isadora’s heart raced as she saw Bernard approach, his figure emerging from the shadowed path leading to their home. Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming relief washing over her. He had been gone for almost a month, each day stretching endlessly, filled with worry and the fear that she might never see him again.

Without a word, Isadora rushed forward, her feet barely touching the ground as she closed the distance between them. When she finally reached him, she threw her arms around Bernard, clinging to him with a desperation that spoke of all the nights she had spent alone, fearing the worst.

Her embrace was fierce, as if she could somehow fuse their bodies together and never let him leave her side again. The scent of him, the warmth of his body against hers, was both foreign and familiar, bringing back memories of the life they had before he was taken from her.

Finally, Isadora pulled back just enough to look into Bernard’s eyes, her hands framing his face. She searched his gaze, her own eyes wide with concern. "What happened to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with the fear she had kept bottled up for so long. "And where is Milady? I was told she was resting in Theodulf Castle, but I did not see her. I am not allowed inside. And now I hear Altanian troops are scouting our place. Bernard, what is going on?"

Her questions tumbled out in a rush, each one more urgent than the last. She had been left in the dark for too long, and now that Bernard was back, she needed answers. She needed to understand what had happened, why he had been gone for so long, and why the world seemed to be crumbling around them.

Bernard’s expression darkened as he listened to Isadora’s words. He could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, and it twisted his heart with guilt.

How could he tell her the truth? How could he explain that he had been taken captive by Isadora’s own mother, that he had been powerless to save her, and that Jessamyn had been the one to rescue him?

The shame of it all weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he knew there was no easy way to confess his failures.

Taking a deep breath, Bernard began to speak, his voice low and filled with regret. He told Isadora everything—how he had been captured, how he had been forced to endure the cruelty of his captor, and how Jessamyn, despite being pregnant and vulnerable herself, had risked everything to save him.

He explained how she had urged him to return to Isadora, to leave her behind in the forest so that he could be with his wife once more.

As he spoke, Bernard’s voice faltered, his shame growing with each word. He could barely bring himself to meet Isadora’s gaze, afraid of the disappointment and anger he would find there.

He had left Jessamyn, his mistress, in the middle of the forest while she was with child, and the guilt of that decision gnawed at him. How could he justify abandoning the woman he had sworn to serve, the woman who had saved his life, in her time of need?

When he finally finished, Bernard braced himself for the inevitable—an outburst of anger, a harsh rebuke, perhaps even the end of the love he and Isadora had shared. He deserved it, after all. He had failed in his duty, both as a servant and as a husband.