The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 309: Conspiring In The Dark

"Why are you standing in the snow?" Bernard’s voice was tinged with concern as he rushed to her, his cloak billowing behind him in the frigid wind.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped the cloak around Isadora, trying to shield her from the biting cold. Her face was a pale shade of ivory, almost ghostly, her hands trembling as if the winter chill had seeped into her bones. Bernard led her inside, his heart pounding with worry.

Once inside, he hurriedly prepared a cup of warm tea, the steam rising in delicate tendrils, hoping the warmth would soothe her nerves.

Isadora’s hands shook as she took the cup from him, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt of cold worry through his veins. Her eyes were wide, filled with an unspoken fear that made Bernard’s heart ache.

"I think William is in danger," Isadora finally whispered, her voice laced with worry that sent a shiver down Bernard’s spine. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and ominous, casting a shadow over the room.

Bernard frowned, his mind racing. "Do you want to check on him? I’ll take you to Aurelia Castle," he offered, his voice steady despite the rising tide of anxiety within him.

He had no idea what was happening, but Isadora was William’s sister, bound by blood and an unspoken connection that Bernard couldn’t understand but respected deeply. If she sensed something was wrong, then it was more than just a feeling—it was a warning.

Isadora nodded, her eyes distant as if already seeing the danger that lay ahead. With the Altanians closing in and the political situation in turmoil, they needed someone powerful like the Grand Duke by their side.

Bernard knew that they had to find out if William was in danger—and if so, how they could protect him.

The journey to Aurelia Castle was a blur of cold wind and biting snow, the landscape around them stark and foreboding. When they finally reached the castle, the servants were pale with fear, their eyes wide with a silent terror that spoke volumes.

As soon as they saw Isadora, a glimmer of hope sparked in their eyes, as if her presence alone could ward off whatever evil had befallen the castle.

The servants led them through the dimly lit corridors to William’s room, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Even before they reached the door, Bernard felt the unsettling aura that surrounded it.

A sickly, ungodly light seeped through the cracks, casting twisted shadows on the stone walls. The air was thick with a palpable sense of dread, the kind that stopped people dead in their tracks.

Bernard instinctively reached out, grasping Isadora’s hand, his fingers tightening around hers. But to his surprise, Isadora gently pulled her hand away, her gaze fixed on the door ahead.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her movements determined, as if something was guiding her, drawing her closer to the ominous glow.

"Isadora, wait," Bernard whispered, but his voice seemed to falter, caught in the suffocating stillness that surrounded them. He tried to step closer, to follow her, but an invisible force held him back, the very air around him pressing down on him like a weight.

Isadora’s steps didn’t falter as she approached the door. The servants had warned against touching it, had tried and failed to open it themselves, but Isadora seemed oblivious to their fears. Her hand reached out, trembling slightly as her fingers brushed against the cold wood. The door creaked open with a sound that sent shivers down Bernard’s spine.

As the door opened, a blinding light burst forth, so intense that those around them shielded their eyes, some even fainting from the sheer force of it.

Bernard squinted, barely able to keep his eyes open, the light burning his retinas, but he could make out Isadora’s figure standing tall, unaffected by the brilliance that seemed to consume everything in its path.

"William!" Isadora’s voice rang out, strong and unwavering as she stepped into the light. And then, just like that, she was gone, swallowed by the blinding radiance.

Bernard tried to follow, his heart pounding with fear, but the light was like fire against his skin, searing him, pushing him back. He could only watch, helpless, as Isadora disappeared from sight.

Fisting his hands, Bernard waited, his entire being screaming at him to do something, to save her, but he was powerless.

Inside the room, Isadora’s heart sank as she saw William lying motionless on the floor. His once vibrant energy was now sapped, his body a mere shell, surrounded by a glowing spell circle that pulsed with a sinister light.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wipe the markings off the floor, her fingers burning as they touched the cursed symbols.

"It’s that woman, isn’t it?" Isadora’s voice was thick with rage as she gritted her teeth. "Where is she? Where is Elaine?"

-----

In the heart of the dark forest, where shadows twisted like living things and the air crackled with malevolent energy, Elaine stood still, her eyes narrowing as a figure emerged from the gloom. The man clad in dark clothes approached her, his presence almost blending into the oppressive darkness that surrounded them.

Elaine smirked, a cold, calculating glint in her eyes as she regarded the man. "I confirmed William was not the Lycaon Wulfhednar," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "You can inform the council. Mobilize the plan you made for the Archduke. He is the Lycaon Wulfhednar."

The man in black tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "How are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.

"The spell circle works," Elaine replied, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "I used it on William. He’ll die soon," she added, her tone gleeful, almost manic. "All I want is to see the return of Arendel," she continued, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous fervor that bordered on madness.

The man stood silent for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Elaine’s smirk grew, her pride swelling as she reveled in her perceived victory.

"What are you waiting for?" she scoffed, her voice tinged with arrogance. "You all loiter around while I, single-handedly, have achieved what you all couldn’t for ages. I am the best, and now the elders will see it too," she spat, her words dripping with self-satisfaction.

The man in black remained silent, his fists clenching at his sides before he quickly composed himself. "You’re saying that Jessamyn is needed alive?" he asked, his tone carefully controlled.

Elaine’s conceited smirk faltered slightly at the mention of Jessamyn’s name. It was clear that admitting this truth grated on her. "Yes, if you want to trap Lycaon Wulfhednar," she muttered, her voice low and filled with reluctant admission.

But as she spoke, realization dawned on her, and her eyes widened in sudden panic. "The circle won’t accept the blood of two," she whispered, fear creeping into her voice.

"It won’t," the man in black agreed, his voice calm and measured. "Go to the capital and protect Jessamyn."

Elaine bristled at the command, her pride wounded. "Why me?" she complained, her voice petulant. She wanted nothing to do with Jessamyn, but it had to be done. Jessamyn was needed alive, though her son was not. "Fine, I’ll do everything myself," she huffed, scoffing as she turned and stormed off into the forest.

The man in black watched her leave, his expression unreadable. She was too full of herself to realize she was merely a pawn in a much larger game. If William was truly dead, she was no longer needed.

The man’s gaze darkened as he turned away, disappearing into the shadows, the forest swallowing him whole.