The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 42: The One Who Cared For Her Still

The thunderous voice of the man leaning on the wall with one of his knees bent, disrupted the happy echoes of the joyous banter among the two women close as sisters—one of them who saw the world through the light of first love and the other one who found the littlest joy possible as the world she knew crumbled around her.

Isadora stopped giggling and looked at Bernard. He turned his face away, allowing his hair to cover his face. "Why did he say that?" she mumbled as she buried her face in the pillow.

Jessamyn noticed the flush of red on Isadora’s face. It was beautiful to watch.

Have they progressed so far that they are talking about having kids already?

Jessamyn couldn’t help but laugh as she gently patted Isadora’s head. How cute!

"That’s not a nice thing to say, Bernard," Jessamyn said jokingly.

Bernard turned, his face stiff and menacing. "Who are you to say that to me?" Bernard asked, his eyes spitting venom.

Jessamyn wouldn’t lie. His reply hurt her. She didn’t know why her playful statement warranted such a reaction from Bernard.

She was tired of fighting against every slight against her and she certainly was not interested in correcting the man Isadora was interested in. So, she did the one thing she knew best—she became silent.

Isadora was in a daze, she didn’t even hear the exchange. Jessamyn smiled softly caressing Isadora’s hair. She was not surprised the usually observant Isadora didn’t hear the tone of Bernard.

But it was fine. She too, was once in love. She remembered how that felt like.

Jessamyn understood that it was the natural way of life for people to move on. No one had to cling to someone just because the other was pathetic and needed someone to rely on.

Yes, she was selfish, but not that selfish to deny someone else’s happiness. Just like she blessed Ethan’s love, she would bless Isadora’s love too, if she found him a perfect partner.

In the end, love was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, she had lost her love, truth be told, twice. She knew how much it hurt. She would not wish such pain on anyone else not even her enemies. She would never be a hurdle to other’s love.

Her life was over. She had no one left to care for her.

Lynae came in and whispered something to Bernard, and he left. Isadora, who was keeping her face, buried in the pillow, gingerly caught a glimpse of his leaving back.

Jessamyn and Isadora proceeded with their hushed conversations as they watched the baby sleep.

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In the cigar room/Jerrick’s unofficial study room...

Jerrick was sitting with his fingers tapping on the solid oak table in an ominous ponder. His eyes were fixed on Bernard standing with his hands clasped together over his loin in a defensive pose.

"Do you know why I asked you here?" Jerrick asked.

"I did something wrong," Bernard said. That much he understood but he didn’t get what he did wrong.

Jerrick’s tapping on the table intensified. "Care to tell me what?" he asked.

Bernard shifted his weight on his feet, something he had never done. "You are angry at me," he replied, for that was the only thing he understood.

"You’re damn right I’m angry at you!" Jerrick stood up and flipped the table.

The giant table that weighed enough for four military-trained men to bring into the room, rolled twice with all the contents in the drawers, before resting an inch away from Bernard’s feet.

Bernard didn’t move an inch in all that commotion. Unfazed by the strength revealed by his master, Bernard gazed at Jerrick, wanting his answer. "Tell me what I did wrong, Wulfhart," the loyal soldier asked, still perplexed.

"That tone you used on her!" Jerrick shouted, his anger still unquenched. "Kneel, now, and behead yourself!"

Like a puppet moving to the will of the puppeteer, Bernard kneeled and unsheathed his sword.

Jerrick’s face twitched with anger watching Bernard holding his sword.

Bernard’s biceps bulged as he readied himself to do what he was asked to, no questions asked. There was no hesitation in his hand holding the sword, no fear on his face; nothing but obedience.

Clenching his jaws, Bernard slashed the sword at his throat right where he knew would cause the maximum damage. He knew for he had beheaded enough to know how that worked.

"Stop!" Jerrick shouted when Bernard’s blade was just a couple of inches away from the throbbing artery on his neck.

Like the obedient soldier he was, Bernard stopped, with the sword just an inch away from his neck. His hand was still not shaking and there wasn’t a single expression of relief on his face. He looked at Jerrick waiting for his word like a barren and waiting for rain.

"Why did I ask you to behead yourself?" Jerrick asked. He was so mad at Bernard, that he said what he said, but he had a feeling Bernard was about to die without knowing why he died.

He couldn’t allow that, now, can he?

"You didn’t tell me why, Wulfhart," Bernard said. His eyes looked at Jerrick with the trust of an innocent child. His master wouldn’t do anything wrong to him. He wouldn’t have to think about it because whatever Wulfhart did would be right and lawful.

Jerrick was lost for words. What else could he expect from his most loyal follower? He let out a deep breath.

"Stand. Help me," Jerrick said holding one side of the table.

Bernard stared at his sword and then at Jerrick.

"Oh, sheath your sword, Bernard," Jerrick waved his hand.

Sheathing his sword Bernard stood up and helped Jerrick replace the table. A few of the drawers were open and Jerrick tidied them up.

"Why don’t you like Jessamyn?" Jerrick asked.

"Jessamyn? I do not care for her to not like her," Bernard was truthful.

Jerrick tilted his head to look at Bernard and sighed. What else did I expect from him other than indifference?

"No, I do care..." Bernard said suddenly realizing something. "I do not like that she makes Isadora laugh. I want to make her laugh but...It is always her, and..." Bernard bowed his head.

So, he’s jealous? Jerrick wanted to laugh.

"Will talk to me with the same tone you talked to Jessamyn, Bernard?" Jerrick asked. He had calmed down by now and almost regretted ever getting mad at the most loyal person he had. "If I ever make Isadora laugh, will you talk to me that way?"

"Never, Wulfhart," Bernard hit his heart with his hand. "Not as long as I am alive. I owe you my life." He proclaimed loudly.

"Then remember this the next time you talk to Jessamyn. I owe my life to her. So, treat her better than you treat me," Jerrick patted Bernard’s shoulder.

"Yes," Bernard said without wasting a second. "Your word is my command."

Jerrick let out a deep breath. "By the way, what is your intention toward Isadora?"