The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 339: Nothing But Love

Jerrick let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as if the weight of the world sat squarely on his shoulders. He had thought there was more time—more moments to cherish with Jessamyn, more stolen glances and whispered words in the night.

He believed, somehow, that the birth of their son would change everything, that the new life they had created together would be the bridge to mend the distance between them.

Yet, despite the hope he clung to so desperately, she had already made up her mind.

A sense of helplessness engulfed him. His hands, once capable of wielding swords and shields, now felt useless, unable to grasp the love that seemed to be slipping through his fingers. It was as though everything he had fought for—everything he thought was strong enough to weather any storm—was crumbling before his eyes. He feared that no matter how much he reached out, she might slap away his hand, walking towards a place where he could no longer follow.

What was he supposed to do?

His gaze drifted to the side, where his men sat around the fire, their voices loud with laughter and joy. They were celebrating victory—celebrating the birth of their future ruler—but inside Jerrick’s heart, there was no room for joy. The hollow ache of his thoughts consumed him, leaving him feeling more alone than he had ever been, even in the midst of their triumph. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Was she still holding his past betrayals against him? Could this be her way of punishing him for the pain he had caused her, for the times he had abandoned her when she needed him most? If this was her fate, to leave this world early, why couldn’t she fight it with him by her side? Why couldn’t she trust that together, they could overcome anything—even death?

Meanwhile, inside the tent, Jessamyn was battling her own thoughts, fighting against the pull of exhaustion as she gazed at her son, now sleeping peacefully in her arms. She didn’t want to close her eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of missing even a second with him. At times, it felt like a dream—like some magical spell had been cast, and that was the only explanation for the perfect little boy lying in her lap.

How had she, in all her imperfection, managed to create something so flawless?

Her mind wandered back to Jerrick, to the shadow she could see on the tent’s flap. Even from this distance, she could sense his frustration, the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air like a storm on the horizon. She had been too happy, too caught up in the overwhelming joy of holding her child, and she had forgotten that her husband was always listening—always attuned to her every word, her every whisper.

They needed to talk.

Gently, she laid her son down on the bed beside her, his tiny body curling up as he continued to sleep. "Jerry..." she called softly, her voice tender yet firm, drawing him to her like the steady pull of the moon on the tide.

There was no fear in her heart when it came to her husband. How could there be? He was the one who had borne her pain with her during childbirth, who had stood by her side when many men would have turned away. No other man would have done what Jerrick had done for her. He wanted nothing more than to surround her with his love, to keep her safe from harm. How could she feel anything but love for him?

And yet, despite everything, she had suffered in his absence. The outside world was dangerous, and without him, she had been forced to endure loss after loss. She knew that if he had been with her, he would never have allowed such suffering to befall her. He would have protected her from every harm, shielded her from the world’s cruelty.

She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to hold on to him, to beg him to find a way to change her fate, to alter the course of their lives so they could stay together forever. But deep down, she knew that was impossible. Her time was drawing near, and she didn’t want to linger in a world where she would be a burden to him. She wanted to leave when she still had him, when their love was strong, and before the suffering could become unbearable.

The sound of the tent flap rustling pulled her from her thoughts. Jerrick entered quickly, his face etched with worry, his eyes scanning her as if he was looking for some sign of distress. "Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Sit with me," she said, patting the space beside her on the bed.

She watched as the tension in his brow softened, his body visibly relaxing at the sight of her well-being. She wanted to cry—wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him how much his care meant to her—but she held back, knowing that her tears would only add to his burden.

When he sat down beside her, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she took his hand in hers. She fiddled gently with his fingers, the soft intimacy between them contrasting with the raucous laughter and celebratory songs of the men outside. The world beyond their tent was full of noise, full of life and celebration, but here, in this quiet space, there was only the two of them—two souls entwined in a love that had faced more trials than most could endure.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. The warmth of his body next to hers was comforting, grounding her in a way that nothing else could.

"I don’t know if William has dealt with Elaine yet," Jessamyn said, breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. "With our son’s birth, wouldn’t the curse be broken?"

Jerrick’s body stiffened at the mention of Elaine.

Jessamyn’s eyes remained fixed on their sleeping son, her heart aching with the weight of her next question. "The old witch would be dead too, right? Or should we do something more?"

She turned her gaze to Jerrick, searching his face for answers, for some reassurance that their suffering had finally come to an end. But instead, she saw the same uncertainty, the same fear that had been haunting her for weeks.

Jerrick’s jaw tightened, his eyes dark with unresolved emotions. "I don’t know," he said quietly, his voice strained. "I wish I could tell you everything is over, that we’re free from her curse... but I don’t know."

Jessamyn nodded slowly, leaning back against him, her fingers still intertwined with his. She had hoped that with the birth of their son, the curse would finally be lifted, that their family would be able to live in peace. But the shadow of the old witch still lingered, and Jessamyn feared that her fate was sealed no matter what they did.

"The Council are planning something sinister, Jerrick," she said.