Joar…
Her throat bobbed as she chanted his name as a prayer. The dagger pierced her skin and a thin stream of blood streamed down her delicate neck. She felt the pulsating artery on the blade and heard her heartbeat in her ears.
A little more and she would meet her husband. But her hands shook, not because she was scared or because she changed her mind. She remembered something her husband said once.
If you end your life, you will not meet your soulmate in the next life.
His gentle voice pleasant as the flow of a stream, caused a thunderstorm in her heart.
What if he was right? What if I don't meet him in my next life?
She couldn't proceed anymore. Dropping the dagger, she curled up and cried out her eyes once more.
"Promise me, Darling Jasmine," her husband said on his deathbed. "Promise me you'll live well in my absence and find happiness. Surround yourself with happiness. Promise me, my darling, so I can rest in peace."
She didn't remember promising him but she hardened herself to follow through what he asked for. She didn't know how to be happy in his absence. There was just no way. But she could surround herself with happiness by making those around her happy.
That was how she survived the past seven years. She would continue to live with the same resolution.
I did it thinking it was Joar. My heart is pure. So, what if I slipped and fell into a sewer? I'm not giving up already. I will get up, clean myself, and march forward, waiting for the day death greets me.
With her resolve renewed, she felt rejuvenated. She sat on her knees and her long locks fell on her chest covering her. Crossing her arms, she patted her shoulders. Her eyes dried and her chest lightened. She could hear the gentle tapping of the firewood burning; she heard the distant songbirds and the cawing of ravens.
When she opened her eyes, they shone with determination. She won't let this small setback define her.
"Who are you praying to?"
The deep voice shocked her as it was unfamiliar. Her eyes widened for a moment before she reeled back her emotions.
It had been more than ten years since she talked to him. What was the last thing he told her that day?
That's right!
She had been waiting for him for two years after he left for war. Her only aim was to become his wife. Letter after letter, he wrote that he missed her and couldn't wait to be with her again.
When he stopped replying to her for six months, she spent each day and night praying for his safety. She wanted him back; that's all she wanted then. She didn't stop sending him letters thinking her letters didn't reach him.
At times, she thought he had died in the war.
She jumped with joy when the town crier announced the new Archduke of the nation. People thought that she was happy he got the title when he was previously unsuitable to marry her because of his commoner status. But she didn't care about the title at all. She was happy he was alive and well.
She rushed to the royal road as the soldiers returned to the capital. The townspeople were welcoming them with flowers and confetti. Her heart bubbled with pride when she saw her lover leading the victory parade.
He was the hero!
Oh, the pride she had to see him revered by all! She flew high up over the clouds with joy.
He changed it all the same day.
He didn't let her down slowly. He pulled her down without any warning; He kicked her face and stomped her cruelly down to hell.
"I am marrying Imogen. I love her, only her," he told her that day as he gleefully held the hand of the bashful Imogen.
"You're facing the wrong direction if you pray to Levana…"
His deep voice snapped her out of the bitter memories of her past. She wetted her lips, uninterested to look at his face. She was more interested in the artistic details of the chair in front of her. The arches were carved impeccably.
She heard the ruffles on the bed and then he put his feet down.
"You didn't attend Imogen's funeral…"
"...even though I attended your husband's funeral."
Jessamyn fisted her hands hard. Although she couldn't see him, she could feel his eyes on her. She thought he would come to the topic at hand, but didn't understand why he was talking about the long past.
"You never saw Edward either. Imogen hoped to introduce you to him," he added.
Jessamyn held her hands tightly not wanting to show the expression on her face.
Three years ago, in a fire accident, he lost his wife and son. She heard that the boy's body was badly charred; they couldn't find Imogen's body in the rubble. It was a terrible accident.
She hated hearing the name 'Imogen' from his lips. He knew nothing about her to confront her about this issue now.
However, …
"My condolences…" Jessamyn had to clear her throat as her throat was dry. "… for the loss of your son, Your Grace," she said, bowing her head.
She couldn't imagine how he felt holding the charred body of his one-year-old son. She was truly sorry for the loss of the child. No one deserves such a loss; not even this man.
"Heh!" he scoffed and stood up.
She didn't understand the meaning behind his scoff. What made him exasperated?
"Imogen missed you. Every time your mother visited, she inquired about you. You're all she talked about. You didn't have to be so…mean to her right till the end," he said, and let out a deep breath.
Jessamyn wanted to laugh out loud. It must be so easy for everyone to blame her. No one knew what she truly felt. No one, but Joar.
Joar knew why she hated Imogen. He knew why she didn't want to be anywhere near her. He forbade her from visiting those people because he supported her.
What's with him talking about Imogen to me now? Imogen talked about me because she cared about me? As if! She wanted to brag about her perfect life to me as I was widowed. Since I didn't give her the opportunity, she was exasperated.
Is he not going to bring up what happened last night? Does he not care?
Jessamyn wanted it to be the case. Then, they could put it behind them as a casual thing and move on.
Jessamyn stiffened hearing him walking toward her. He didn't use his walking stick, and she heard the dragging on one foot as he walked.
Her heart pounded.
He was just a few feet away from her when there was a knock at the window. Jessamyn heard the cawing of a raven.
Jerrick let out a short chuckle. "She's here…" His voice had softened and he opened the window.
Fluttered its way inside the room was a bird. Whooshing past Jessamyn, it sat on the armrest of the chair.
"My-nah… My-nah…" the dark-colored bird with a yellow beak, spoke fluttering its wings.
Jessamyn's heart skipped a beat.
Is it this Jaylene?
"Jaylene…You recognized her, didn't you? Good girl... Jaylene is a good girl," Jerrick said. "Sing your song for Myna, My Songbird… " His voice was gentle toward the bird.
Jessamyn fisted her hands.
Myna, he says…
Songbird…
He used to tell her that she was his songbird.
Myna—that's what he called her because "MYN" was the last part of her name. In their kingdom, they considered it a slight if someone shortened a given name. She didn't think of it much then as she was so in love, but he always called her "Myna".
Maybe he wanted to slight her. She was too stupid to realize it.
She was so "common", he used to say, like the myna birds in her hometown. Like the myna birds, she was noisy, he used to say, and aggressive. He told her that everyone was right to call her out for not behaving like a lady.
Her heart pounded as he opened the lid of the painful memories she kept hidden in her heart.