The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 349: The Twins

Jerrick released a long, weary breath as Roche came into view. The familiar silhouette of the town stirred a flood of memories he had tried hard to bury. Roche—once their haven, once the place where he and Jessamyn had built their happiest moments. Now it was a place too painful to return to. He hadn’t set foot here since the day she died, unable to face the emptiness that her absence had created.

But this was his fief. He was their lord, their protector. No matter the grief that clawed at him, he had a duty to them. He needed to stand by them, even if the weight of his loss was like a stone in his chest, pressing down on every breath he took.

As Jerrick approached Roche, still an hour away, a figure on horseback came charging toward him through the dim evening light. The rider’s silhouette was unmistakable, even in the shadows—Bernard, his ever-loyal friend and steward.

Jerrick’s heart warmed at the sight of him, even as the familiar pain of Jessamyn’s absence lurked in the background, never too far from his thoughts.

"Wulfhart!" Bernard called out as he reined his horse in, jumping off before it had even fully stopped. He dropped to his knee in front of Jerrick, ever the faithful servant. "I saw the mynah flying ahead, and I knew you were near. I came to welcome you. Forgive this inept man for not preparing a proper welcome parade for you and our future lord," he said, bowing his head with a tone of reverence.

Jerrick smiled softly, placing a hand on Bernard’s shoulder, urging him to rise. It was comforting to be among those who understood the burdens he carried. "I missed you, Bernard," he said, his voice softer than usual, the sentiment genuine.

Bernard’s eyes watered, but he blinked the tears away quickly. "And I, you, Wulfhart." His gaze shifted to the boy perched on Jostein, the mighty horse that had been Jerrick’s companion through countless battles. "Is that... Wolfgang?" Bernard asked, awe filling his voice as his eyes landed on the child.

Though Jerrick had kept his distance from Roche, Bernard had stayed informed, loyal and ever watchful. The entire kingdom knew of Jerrick’s crusade across Ayberia and Altania, eliminating the remnants of the Council and their toxic beliefs. Word had spread of the boy traveling with him—"Wolfgang," the child of both human and wolf, named for his extraordinary gift of shifting into a wolf at such a young age. He had become a legend before even reaching his first year of life.

The boy’s sharp blue eyes locked on Bernard, gleaming in the fading light like the precious gems they resembled. Without thinking, Bernard fell to his knees again, this time before the child. "Your Majesty," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them, overwhelmed by the boy’s presence.

Jerrick’s smile faded into an amused grimace as he watched the scene unfold. "Stop making everyone kneel in front of you, Ricky!" he scolded gently, though there was a touch of pride in his voice. He sighed, shaking his head at his son’s defiant expression. Ricky had a way of commanding respect without ever asking for it—a gift inherited from his mother, no doubt.

The boy, though still too young to fully grasp his lineage, seemed to enjoy the attention, a mischievous glint in his eye. Jerrick could only hope that in time, Ricky would learn to balance the weight of his legacy with humility. "We’ll have to meet the King soon, and we don’t need any unnecessary attention," Jerrick added, his voice firm. In a kingdom ruled by the Kaiser family, calling someone else "Majesty" was dangerous, even if it was just a child.

Bernard, still kneeling, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Forgive me, Wulfhart. It’s hard not to be in awe of your son."

Jerrick’s expression softened again. "He’s just a boy, Bernard. And speaking of boys, how’s Isadora? Last I heard, she was expecting."

Bernard’s face brightened instantly. "She gave birth yesterday! Two boys, twins!"

Jerrick’s eyebrows rose, a smile breaking through the haze of his grief. "Twins? That’s wonderful news." He could almost hear Jessamyn’s voice in his mind, teasing Isadora about the burden of carrying Bernard’s children. Jessamyn had always worried about Isadora, knowing how difficult the pregnancy could be with Bernard being part-giant. The news of twins would have made her laugh with relief and joy.

"The Theodulf blood must have helped," Jerrick said with a chuckle. "Not many women could survive carrying the children of a quarter-giant."

Bernard smiled, a touch of pride and shyness in his expression. "She’s resting now, Wulfhart, but she’ll be thrilled to see you."

Jerrick clapped Bernard on the back, warmth spreading through him for the first time in what felt like ages. "Then let’s go see her. I want to meet my nephews. Ricky," he turned to his son, "are you ready to meet your cousins?"

Ricky, who had been fidgeting on Jostein’s back, looked less than enthused. The boy had little patience for domestic matters. He would much rather be sparring or practicing his shifting than visiting family members he hadn’t met yet. But Ricky knew better than to defy his father outright. Jerrick’s presence commanded more than respect; it commanded loyalty.

With a reluctant nod, Ricky hopped down from the horse, his small frame landing with surprising grace for one so young. Even in his defiance, there was something regal about him, something that reminded Jerrick of Jessamyn every time he looked at his son.

As they made their way into Roche, the familiar streets brought a flood of emotions crashing over Jerrick. Every corner, every building held a memory of Jessamyn. He had tried to avoid returning for so long, afraid that the memories would overwhelm him, that the pain would be too much. But standing here now, surrounded by the people who had always stood by him, with Ricky by his side, the grief didn’t seem quite as unbearable.

Isadora’s face lit up with joy the moment she saw Jerrick. Her happiness was infectious, a bright spark in the midst of all the sorrow that had haunted him for the past year. She practically leaped into his arms, and Jerrick couldn’t help but laugh, the sound foreign and unfamiliar after so much time spent in mourning.

"Jerrick!" Isadora exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth and excitement. "It’s been too long!"

Jerrick’s heart swelled at the sight of her, her cheeks flushed from the joy of motherhood. "It has. And I’ve missed you."

"And you must meet my boys!" she beamed, motioning to the small crib where her newborns slept soundly. Jerrick’s chest tightened at the sight of them—two tiny lives, so full of promise, so full of hope. He felt a pang in his heart, thinking of Jessamyn and what she would have given to be here, to see this moment.

"Twins," he marveled softly, bending down to get a closer look at the infants. "Jessamyn would have loved this."

As he watched the tiny babies sleep, Jerrick felt a glimmer of hope.

Life goes on.