195: A dawn of borrowed sorrow

A dawn of borrowed sorrow

It was a terrible night for Adela, a series of recurring nightmares that stretched out, meaningless and endless, refusing to let her escape into peaceful rest. Each time she found herself roused within the confines of the nightmare, she had to endure a lingering realization that she remained asleep. It was a vicious cycle, one that left her genuinely concerned about the nature of her condition.0

Amidst the confusion of theories that occupied her active mind, a forgotten memory resurfaced, the fog that clouded her recollections of her time with Egon in the carriage was similar to a previous experience she had when she wore her father's ring during a mission to locate a kidnapped Andreas.

Adela mentally scoffed at the idea of Andreas being kidnapped. The thought of laying a finger on a vampire was an unimaginable feat for any mortal.

Was it possible that Andreas sought retribution for her frankness that morning, imprisoning her within the confines of her own mind like this?

I will not disregard that possibility, nor will I readily place my trust in others again.

One part of her held genuine concern for herself, while the rest of her worried for her sister. Perhaps the Archduchess's decision to take her to Destan was not ill-advised after all.

It was right then when an unpleasant warmth spread through her chest. She became consumed by a singular thought that eclipsed all else — a profound loss of will to carry on living altogether. This sudden despair startled her. Where was it originating from?

She had so much to live for — a flawed yet loving family, a fledgling falcon with beautiful black feathers, a pregnant mare who would rely on her throughout the year, a land she wanted to serve, and people she wished to protect and guide... She also had a man she loved, even if he went out of his way to continue ignoring her.

Would he shed tears for her if she were to depart from this world before him?

As another wave of sorrow crashed over her, she knew she had to take action. This agony did not belong to her, and more importantly, if she could feel it, then she most certainly had the ability to do something about it.

Wake up! Wake up now!

With a forceful pound on the bed, she finally sat up, her face and neck damp from her struggle, her chest heaving with the rapid beats of her heart. In the darkness, the first thing she saw was Baroness Frieda, lying on the nearby couch next to young Kannen's empty cage.

Was it you, nanny?

Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, Adela slowly left the bed, taking quiet steps toward the Baroness. Frieda was sound asleep, and nothing seemed amiss with her. Adela fetched the thin quilt that draped over the couch and gently covered Frieda, realizing that the Baroness must have been too tired and fallen asleep without tending to it herself.

Still sensing the presence of someone in need, Adela searched within herself once more. She felt that this person was nearby, close enough for her to reach out to. Grabbing a shawl from her reading chair, she quickly wrapped it around her shoulders and stepped outside. The manor was almost deserted, the hour undoubtedly the darkest before dawn. There should be no staff present at this time, save for Bernard and the headmaid who were surely in their own rooms. However, the sensation Adela followed seemed to come from beyond the manor's walls.

Where are you?

With a growing suspicion that one of the guards on duty might be the source, she made her way down the stairs and reached the grand doors. As she opened them, the cool breeze hit her damp face, hair, and neck. Clutching her shawl tightly around her, she climbed down the stairs on a quest to locate the individual whose profound sadness had roused her from that strange slumber.

Guided by an invisible compass within her, it didn't take her long to find him in the garden.

Leopold von Conradie?

He wore a dark robe that was ill-suited for the outdoors. Leaning against the stone wall, his body slouched in a state of desolation. His rhythmic breathing resembled that of someone in deep sleep, his face contorting briefly before easing into relaxation once more. Adela's gaze traveled upward to the balcony looming above the man's head.

"This can't be a coincidence..."

Leopold was positioned directly beneath the Archduchess's chambers.

"She's not even here..." Adela's said, recalling her own childhood when she used to hide herself in this very spot then wait for her father to come to her rescue. "...Are you chasing the shadows she left behind?" she murmured softly, the comparison between her younger self and the current Leopold was extremely strange.

Moving closer to where her mate's uncle lay, she took off her shawl and draped it over him.

"Who is nearby?" she spoke in a normal volume this time.

A knight seemed to have emerged from behind a nearby tree, she didn't need to turn her head entirely to notice him, a sideward glance confirmed his presence.

"State the orders you have received, Sir."

"…"

Adela's current temper was not to be trifled with.

"…You will speak if you value your position in this Archduchy," she asserted in a professional tone.

The knight cleared his throat.

"...Leopold von Conradie is to be left alone unless he attempts to harm himself."

So it is as I suspected.

"…Whose orders are those?" Adela closed her eyes, already knowing the answer.

"They are His Excellency's orders."

Were her father's orders kind or cruel? Adela remained undecided.

"…Bring Arkin von Conradie to me immediately."

"Yes, Lady Adelaide," the knight replied before disappearing from whence he came.

"Atticus," Leopold murmured in his sleep. It wasn't the first time Adela heard that name. Wasn't it the name of Egon's father?

"Excuse me," she said softly before holding Leopold. Closing her eyes, she focused all her attention on the core of his sadness, envisioning white light entering it. "Let me share some of my strength with you," she whispered, holding him tighter and shedding a few tears that did not belong to her. "...Your son will be here soon."

"I wanted to come to you, but I failed," Leopold murmured, his furrowed brows glistening with sweat.

He must have been referring to her mother, but it was not the time to assign blame.

"Atticus…" Leopold repeated again and again as Adela shed more tears on his behalf.

pqdm.com