The Grand Duke's Soulmate-Chapter 571: A season of grief

Spring was drawing to a close, ushering in the transition to the next season. The air no longer carried its cold bite, and the days grew warmer under the bright sun.

New life had quietly taken root—grass thickened, branches swelled, and fields awoke with colour and blooms as the season prepared to give way to summer.

Kyren sat under the old elm tree at the edge of the grounds, its broad canopy casting fragmented shade onto the ground.

He was in the same spot where he had once sat with Anna on the day he first took her out of the camp settlement.

In front of him, the marigold field had started to bloom, with fresh flowers opening up in silent defiance of the past months, their golden petals catching the light as they swayed in the breeze.

Yet his gaze remained empty, unenticed by the beauty of nature.

Kyren lowered his gaze. The vivid spark that once shone in his blue eyes had long since faded, replaced by a quiet, hollow sorrow.

A small ring rested in his palm, its surface catching the light faintly—Anna’s wedding band. It was all that remained of her.

"It’s been one hundred and thirty-five days," he murmured, "yet it feels like one hundred and thirty-five years, Anna..."

His body stayed rooted beneath the tree, still and unmoving, while his thoughts drifted far from the present, back to the day the winter royal vessel departed.

When Kyren first awoke in his suite, he had believed it all to be a nightmare. The familiar walls and the stillness of the chamber had seemed unchanged.

Relief had nearly taken hold. But then he saw the ring, cold and solid against the sheets, and in that moment, he knew... Whatever had occurred was not a dream.

The Mederian Prince had left it there after lifting the sleeping spell, a deliberate message that the princess no longer belonged to Kyren.

The Grand Duke rushed out, searching for Anna, but she was already gone.

His determination grew, even as his body rebelled and his strength waned. Still recovering from the aftermath of the impact, he forced himself onward until he reached the port.

Kyren could still see it upon arrival—the majestic ship cleaving through the frozen sea, carrying the woman he loved further away.

Reason had deserted him then. He pursued it, running across the deck, his breath tearing from him as he shouted her name into the wind.

But the harsh reality quickly became clear. Despite his desperate will and intense anxiety, it was all in vain. The sea had remained before him, vast and open... yet utterly forbidden.

From afar, Eric’s grey eyes observed the Grand Duke silently. His expression was serious, but unlike Kyren’s vacant calm, it conveyed a quiet sense of duty and steadfast loyalty, giving him an air of restrained alertness.

His arms crossed over his chest as he stood guard, adopting a stiff posture to stay alert and brace himself.

Behind him, two other high-ranking knights stayed in position, their gaze fixed on the same figure, equally watchful but in tense mode.

"I didn’t expect you both to come. Sir Mills should have returned after informing the castle of our whereabouts," said Eric.

Alex hesitated, but then replied, "He couldn’t make it."

Eric quickly faced the knight, a hint of unease showing on his face. "Why not?"

Shortly after Sir Mills arrived and disclosed your location, a messenger from the Count of Medhir came to inform that the Marquis of Sylvere has been injured. He fell down the stairs," Alex explained.

"What?" Eric exclaimed, shocked. "How is he now?"

"He’s stabilised," Noah replied, "but his condition isn’t good. Only immediate family members are allowed to see him. His Lordship is already advanced in age, so such an injury would cause him immense pain, and his recovery will not be swift."

He continued quietly, "The Count requested Sir Mills and his wife’s immediate presence, so they departed at once."

Eric clicked his tongue, concern growing heavier in his chest as his hands came to rest on his hips. His gaze drifted back to the grand duke, who sat hopelessly, burdened by guilt and quiet torment.

Life had not stood still during those three months. Changes and challenges had unfolded quietly in the lives of others as well, and whether they were ready or not, each was forced to face new trials of their own.

Grief could not suspend the world forever, as time continued to press forward, demanding to be lived through.

"Fine... I’ll go and talk to him," Eric said at last, after a long pause.

"Do you want us to come along?" Noah asked.

The second-in-command shook his head.

"He won’t listen if you confront him so directly," Eric said, his gaze fixed on Kyren. "You know how he’s been these past three months."

"But His Highness was the one who said ’yes’ in the first place... and now he—"

Eric cut Alex off with a sharp look.

"He didn’t say ’yes’," he said flatly. "He said ’whatever’. There’s a difference."

The knight frowned, trying to make sense of it, but the meaning still eluded him.

"Then... does that mean he disagreed?"

"It means he no longer cares." Eric tipped his chin toward the Grand Duke. "Caring takes strength, but he has none left."

Noah exhaled softly.

"Then we’ll leave it to you, Sir Navin. You’d know best how to handle him."

Eric did not reply. The truth was, he wasn’t certain himself how Kyren would react. Delivering the request was simple; however, facing the Grand Duke’s response was not.

It had only taken a single careless remark from Gerald, the castle steward, in an attempt to lift Kyren’s spirits by praising the beauty of the sea, to set everything in motion.

The Grand Duke said nothing, made no arrangements, and left with Maximillian, riding straight for the camp at Dartrey Forest and leaving the duchy without explanation. Out of concern, Eric and Drystan had followed.

The second-in-command knight stepped forward toward the Grand Duke, while his two subordinates remained behind, watching in silence.

Sitting beneath the elm tree, Kyren was a far cry from the Grand Duke they once knew... His hair hung loosely to his shoulders, his overgrown beard shadowed his face, his cheeks were hollow, and his frame was lean and weary.

His attire was no better—robes and tunics wrinkled and ill-fitting, fastenings poorly done, the finery of his rank neglected as if it no longer mattered.

The charm that used to fill a room had wholly disappeared, leaving a man drained by grief. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Kyren did not lift his head at the approaching footsteps. Allies or enemies—it no longer mattered. Life had emptied him of all feeling: no joy, no anticipation, no fear.

Eric stopped before the grand duke. The wind stirred through the trees, as if urging him to begin.

Yet instead of delivering the message he had been asked to convey, he asked quietly, "What are you doing here?"

"Enjoying the last of spring," Kyren replied nonchalantly. "Anna would have loved this view. She adored flowers."

The second-in-command’s gaze hardened.

"Are you truly enjoying it... or merely hiding from what you refuse to face?"

Kyren offered no reply. He merely slid the small ring back onto his little finger, the only one slender enough to hold Anna’s band.

Eric’s gaze darkened at the dismissal. Then, without warning, he lashed out, kicking the Grand Duke’s leg.

"Get up!" he barked.

This time, Kyren looked up. There was no anger in his eyes, only stark hopelessness and a heavy, muted sorrow. Even so, his voice remained flat.

"You are being disrespectful."

"You don’t deserve respect," Eric snapped, "until you start acting like a Grand Duke who is truly worthy of it."

Kyren let out a chuckle, as though the words were nothing more than a cruel jest.

"And what difference would it make?" he asked. "Would it bring back what I’ve lost? Or turn time itself back, to before all of this happened?"

Eric’s expression sobered as the memory surged back.

Not long after the winter royal vessel left, Kyren, who had just arrived, tried to follow, despite the king and others trying to stop him.

When he boarded a nearby docked boat, the power that bound the oath awakened, seizing hold of the vessel before it departed.

No matter how hard the grand duke rowed or urged the others to push through, the boat didn’t budge. Switching vessels also proved unhelpful, as the same thing happened again.

Desperate, the grand duke attempted another way. He leapt towards the sea, intending to swim. But the instant his body neared the water, a violent force flung him back onto the shore, his form rebounding as though he had slammed into an invisible wall.

Only then did Kyren and those who witnessed it realise the truth. He could not touch the sea, nor could he cross it. Anything connected to the ocean itself was entirely denied to him by the force.

"When you stop fighting, you will lose everything..."

"I’ve already lost." The Grand Duke bowed his head, fingers digging into the soil. "Nothing will come back. Not Anna... nor our child."

Eric drew in a slow, deep breath. Watching Kyren now, he felt a chill run through his bones. This was not grief alone. It was a man who no longer knew why he should keep living.

In the days following Anna’s departure, Kyren fought like a man driven mad. He tried every possible way to reach the princess despite knowing the force that blocked him, raging against the sea, cursing Kiev for taking her away, and exhausting himself in desperate, futile efforts to undo the inevitable.

But everything changed the moment Eric revealed the truth about his child.

Kyren had not shouted. He had not raged. He had simply become motionless. The grief drained from him as if his soul had withered away, leaving behind an empty shell.

It was as if the weight of his losses had finally crushed the last fragment of will he had left to endure them.

"Lady Raychard had never given up when all circumstances cornered her. Don’t you wish to get her back?" said Eric.

Kyren turned to his right-hand man.

"In what way?" he asked. "Haven’t we tried everything? Even Clara’s eagles failed to deliver a single message. The path to Semeta is sealed... all by my own stupidity."

He looked away, voice lowering. "Hope only teaches us new ways to fail."

The remarks rekindled memories of Eric’s unsuccessful attempt. When spring arrived, he and the knights set out to sail without Kyren, convinced that the oath only bound him. Yet, the outcome remained the same.

No ship would leave the shore. Whether the Grand Duke was present or not, the sea denied them all.

The spell drawn from Kyren’s mana was formidable, matching the power of the Khasif. It was unbreakable and unwavering, thwarting every effort made by others to reunite the imperial couple.

"You and Lady Raychard are soulmates," Eric said quietly. "It wasn’t merely an oath or a spell that bound you both, but destiny itself. Surely, there will be a way to break this, sooner or later."

"Don’t remind me of my failure and my mistake, Eric," Kyren said. "It was my own words that sealed this fate."

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating, as though guilt itself had settled in the space they shared.

"Why are Alex and Noah here, anyway?" Kyren asked at last, his tone careless, almost bored. "Tell them to go back. I don’t need the company of an entire crowd."

Eric hesitated, then finally spoke.

"They came to ask for your return to the duchy. The wedding continues as planned. If we don’t depart today, we’ll miss the timing."

"Ah... so that’s why..." the Grand Duke responded, appearing completely unfazed by the urgency.

"The event cannot go on without you, Your Highness," Eric said gently, no longer insisting, merely stating the facts.

Kyren almost laughed at himself.

The request came with bitter irony. He had failed in his role as the Guardian of the Khasif, yet they still expected him to carry out his duty as the Grand Duke of Gerhard.

Eric then said, "I know... given everything that has happened, you may feel no desire for such an occasion. But believe me, Lady Raychard would have wanted this more than anything."

Kyren’s fingers stilled. He remembered Anna’s unguarded excitement over the wedding—the way her eyes had shone as she spoke of it, and her soft chatter as she imagined every detail.

Had she been in Gerhard, she would have overseen the preparations herself, refusing to leave anything to chance.

The thought left a deep ache that no one else could heal.

"Yes, she would," Kyren said quietly. "She wished for it to take place the moment we returned to Gerhard." His voice carried a fragile thread of reminiscence, carefully held in check.

Eric inclined his head and persuaded, "Then, honour her if nothing else. Let us return to the duchy, Your Highness."

Kyren hesitated before answering. The words bore down on him, heavy as stone. Moving forward seemed like betraying his grief, while staying here felt like surrender.

His chest tightened, torn between longing and duty, and for a moment, he questioned whether he had the strength to get up.

At last, he exhaled.

"Pack your belongings," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath it. "We’ll depart within the hour."

Relief flickered across Eric’s face, a rare light breaking through his stern composure. "I’ll inform Sir Brooks and Sir Jarr at once," he said, unable to entirely hide his quiet optimism.

Kyren merely nodded, his eyes still dulled, but for Anna’s wish, he would rise. That was one thing he could still do.