The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 313: Chaotic Propaganda

Alderic ordered a simple meal, but Jessamyn could barely force herself to take a bite. Her thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm, every piece of information weighing down her heart like lead.

She stared at the plate, her appetite consumed by the growing dread inside her. Whatever was happening now, one thing was clear: nothing would be the same when Jerrick returned—if he ever returned.

She knew that in the shadows of war, Lady Celena had likely spun a web of propaganda, painting Jerrick as the kingdom’s savior. The thought turned Jessamyn’s stomach. Celena, with her dangerous influence, always found ways to twist public perception to suit her ambitions.

But how had the Council allowed such a blatant narrative to take hold? Had Celena’s reach grown so vast, so insidious, that even they were powerless to stop her?

Unless...

A cold fear tightened around Jessamyn’s chest. Where was Jerrick? How could he have vanished from the face of the earth? It made no sense. He was a man of action, a leader. If something had happened, word would have reached her by now. But instead, there was nothing—no news, no sign.

Was he trapped? Had the Council done something to him?

Her mind drifted to the prophecy she had long ago. It foretold a grim fate—Jerrick, caught by his enemies, subjected to unspeakable torture before being killed. Jessamyn’s throat tightened at the memory. Was that what had happened? Was her husband held captive somewhere, suffering alone?

No. She couldn’t allow herself to think that way. Not now, not when there was still hope. Her hand instinctively moved to her belly, resting over the life growing inside her.

Should she ask for help from her son? He had already shown signs of power, guiding her through danger. Could he lead her to Jerrick?

Alderic’s voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. "Do you really have no idea where the Archduke is, Your Grace?" His tone was heavy with concern. "Why are you here, in Elodia, when the situation seems so stacked against you?"

Jessamyn blinked, her mind still half-entranced by the troubling thoughts. "I don’t know where he is," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "I was... I was hoping to find answers here. What else do you know, Alderic? You were about to say something earlier."

Alderic’s expression darkened as he leaned closer. "There are rumors, Your Grace. Some people believe the Archduke was seen turning into a wolf—Lycaon Wulfhednar. They think he’s more than just a man now—they believe he’s a legend reborn."

So, the truth was outed, Jessamyn thought.

"They also believe the Theodulf family was wronged by the Kaiser dynasty," Alderic continued, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Many of them see the Kaiser family as unfit to rule. They’re saying the Archduke is preparing to eliminate his enemies in Altania and return victorious. They want to eliminate his enemies here so that he can reclaim the throne."

Jessamyn frowned, her pulse quickening. "Eliminate his enemies?"

Alderic nodded grimly. "Some extremists are planning to ’clear his path’ for him. They believe that when he returns, there should be no obstacles in his way. They’re talking about eliminating the entire Kaiser family."

Jessamyn’s blood ran cold. It was one thing to deal with soldiers from Altania, but to have people in her own kingdom—people who were supposed to be loyal to the royal family—plotting against them? This was worse than she had imagined. Her mind raced with possibilities, all of them grim.

The Kaiser family needed protection, but how could she ensure their safety in a kingdom that was quickly turning against them?

Her hand pressed protectively against her belly, and she felt her son stir within her. The sensation was more than just movement; it was as if he was trying to communicate with her, urging her to act.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the quiet rhythm of his presence. What was he trying to tell her?

"That cannot happen," Jessamyn said firmly, opening her eyes and meeting Alderic’s gaze. "The Kaiser family is the rightful ruler of Ayberia. We must protect them."

Alderic studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I see," he finally said, his voice soft but resigned. "You truly mean to defend them."

Jessamyn nodded. "I have no choice. This kingdom would fall into chaos without them."

Alderic sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "There are those who would protect you, Your Grace, if they knew you were here. The extremists revere you—they believe you’re their Queen Mother because of your kindness and grace. You might be safer with them than with the royal guards..."

Jessamyn’s brows furrowed in confusion. "Is there a royal order against me?"

Alderic shifted uneasily. "I don’t know anything for certain, but I’ve heard rumors. The Crown Prince has taken control of many operations, and from what I gather, he’s not likely to be merciful toward you, considering the current state of affairs. Still, there are many who see you as a symbol of hope."

Jessamyn’s heart sank further. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How had things deteriorated so quickly? How had she become trapped in a situation where her own name was being used to rally factions against her friends and allies?

Her son stirred again, more insistently this time. Jessamyn placed her hand on her belly, feeling his energy surge through her. He was trying to tell her something—something urgent.

"And the Primarch," Alderic added, his voice quieter now, "there are signs from the goddess that seem to favor you as well. Some believe it’s a divine mandate."

Jessamyn chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. "The goddess?" It was just clever manipulation by women like Jerrick’s mother and Lady Celena.

Alderic didn’t respond, his expression grim.

Jessamyn took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She couldn’t afford to be swept up in the manipulations of others. She needed clarity, needed to find the path that would keep her family safe. "Do you know where I can find the Crown Prince?" she asked.

Alderic shook his head. "No, Your Grace. He may not be your friend anymore. You have to be careful."

Jessamyn nodded, her resolve hardening. "I understand. Thank you, Alderic. You’ve done more than enough."

Knowing his time was up, Alderic bowed and left her side reluctantly returning to his post. Jessamyn stood alone in the fading light of the tavern, her hand once again resting on her belly. "Son," she whispered, her voice filled with determination, "lead me to the Crown Prince."

She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain—she had to act now. For Jerrick, for her son, and for the kingdom that teetered on the brink of disaster.