Jessamyn's torment continued even when she found refuge in the darkness. There were moments of relief but at times, the pain returned with vengeance; she couldn't bear the pain and wished for death.
Death didn't arrive for her.
She did hear a meek voice once or twice—the voice of the boy she knew once.
She had denied herself for that boy in the past. She smiled when she wanted to cry; for his smile. She had offered him a place to rest when he was tired—to see the pleased smile on his face. She got punished when she wanted to share the few delicacies of her life with him—yet she continued just so she could see him smile.
However, he taught her a valuable lesson; again, with a smile on his face--the same smile she wanted to see on his face became a painful memory for her. His smile taught her that being selfless was not a virtue. But she kept on forgetting his lesson and was cruelly reminded that most humans were nothing less than vile.
'I'm sorry, Myna… I didn't mean to hurt you…'
Although there was warmth in his tone, what was left was pain. Pain that turned the air around her thick. Pain that squeezed her lungs and compressed her ribcage. It was so confusing as she couldn't say if it were her pain or someone else's. She felt detached at times, clinging to a distant hope that the pain would pass.
Did you? She wanted to ask but couldn't. The pain made her go mad. Does it matter anymore?
'I'm sorry… Look at me…'
She heard the pleas. She didn't want to return to him, his voice.
'I'm sorry…'
'Please, come back…'
That voice caused a constricting sensation in her heart. That sensation radiated outward, spreading like wildfire through the body. The burning ache gnawed at the very core of her being, leaving a trail of anguish in its wake.
Please, leave me alone… The pain… I can't bear it…
She thought she would burn in pain for all eternity, but relief came. There was silence. The cords of despair pulling apart her heart loosened and disappeared.
'Milady…'
She heard the familiar voice laced with the care and affection of a mother.
'It's fine… Everything is fine… You're fine… Can you hear me? Milady… You're fine now…'
Gently, the voice of the tender-hearted woman soothed her burning ache. The pain still lingered, but a motherly gentleness drove away the darkness, and offered her comfort. Her nurturing words slowly untangled the anxiety and despair in her heart and guided her to light.
The darkness in her heart dissipated, and light returned to her eyes. Slowly, Jessamyn opened her eyes, welcoming the light. Isadora was sitting by her side, leaning on the bed, now fast asleep.
Jessamyn's lips curved up, seeing Isadora. The dark circles around her eyes were prominent as the sunlight illuminated her face. She must have been awake the entire night.
Jessamyn sat up and rubbed her face. She felt like she woke up from a long nightmare. She rubbed her chest, wondering if that pain was lingering. It was not, thankfully.
She wouldn't want to go through that pain again.
With a sigh of relief, she looked at the window. The blue velvet curtains of the canopy bed were clamped to the pillars of the bed. Looking around, Jessamyn realized she was in a different room.
That was understandable since she was in his room yesterday. He would need his room back.
She tried to put her feet down.
"Milady!"
Her movement must have awakened Isadora. She shouted and grabbed her arm.
"Milady, you're awake, finally!!" Looking at her with delight, Isadora grinned ear to ear. "Do not move… I'll… Wait…"
Isadora covered Jessamyn's legs with the blanket and offered her warm water. Then she rushed out of the room, again, smiling at her with glee as if she had risen from the dead.
-----
In Castle Aurelia, the official residence of William Kaiser, the Grand Duke of Ayberia.
William stood on the balcony with a glass of wine, taking in the scent of the salty sea breeze. As the sun rose, the sky was painted with shades of red and gold. The sea dazzled with the golden glow, and the sound of seagulls in the distance played a perfect symphony.
He saw the ships docking at the harbor, bustling with life. The fishing boats returned to the shore, and people of many cultures walked in and out of the port with their merchandise.
He loved this place—Montrose, his home!
His eyes got drawn to the couch inside the room. The lined curtains swayed in the morning breeze, and against the marble floor in the morning sunlight, the golden furnishings gleamed with a radiant luster, casting reflections that danced across the walls like fleeting whispers of light. The intricate patterns etched into the golden surfaces catch the sunlight, casting intricate shadows that weaved tales of elegance and grandeur.
On the couch was the godly figure half-asleep. The glass in his hand refracted the sunlight onto the marble floor into a cluster of colorful hues.
The maids (so, he'd like to call them, but they were women from the pleasure house) poked his cheeks, stopping him from falling asleep. He wouldn't blame them, for they never had the chance to see the Archduke up close.
Last night, he came here, already tipsy. Usually, he would send off the women in his room before entering, but last night, he didn't mind. He sat on the couch and started drinking.
William walked to the couch. He wouldn't mind entertaining Jerrick all his life, but he heard that Lady Jessamyn was sick. Although Roche was just a few hours from Montrose on the royal road, Jerrick's presence here raised doubts in his heart.
He sat by Jerrick's side and gently caressed his silky hair. As if he was touched by fire, Jerrick sat up.
"Is it morning already?" he looked out through the window. Then he let out a deep anguished sigh.
William took a sip of the wine. Being drunk keeps his sanity. However, he had never seen Jerrick this disheveled; not even on the battlefield. He had an air of elegance to him.
"What are you doing here?" William asked not able to bear Jerrick's empty stare at the horizon.
Jerrick let out another sigh. His eyes were hollow as if every joy was sucked out of him. He looked like a man consumed by the suffocating grip of hopelessness.
"I lost my resting place…"
Jerrick said; his low voice drowning in the depths of grief.