✓ | REBIRTH OF THE REBEL [Book Two]

CHAPTER 45

[ C H A P T E R 45 ]

OMNISCIENT

The mansion's halls seemed to echo with the ghosts of the past, as if time itself had wound backward to the fateful week when the land faced the threat of annihilation to extinguish the seer. Despite the absence of imminent danger, an eerie atmosphere persisted, trapping them in the same timeline as the harrowing events that unfolded before.

The interrupted tally of the ballots left the state without a new lord. Napoleon Jakare Lamperouge, the fleeing lord, left a trail of destruction by setting the streets of Edinburgh ablaze. The once bustling city now bore the scars of a one-day tragedy, leaving its residents to grapple with the aftermath.

Thousands lost their lives in the chaos, most of them belonging to the Moore Clans and their loyal servants. Civilians caught in the crossfire became unwitting casualties of the feud. Those who survived were left mourning for the fallen, their grief palpable in the somber air that hung over the duchy.

Amidst the devastation, the duke, a once steadfast pillar of strength, now stood in silence. The loss of his wife, the heartbeat of the duchy, and the dreams of a future with their unborn children weighed heavily on his shoulders. His silence mirrored the charred remnants of the city, as if he, too, had been consumed by the flames that claimed his beloved.

The duke found himself locked in a private agony. His gaze fixated on the urn that cradled the remains of the duchess—the only tangible fragment that remained of the woman he cherished. In the silent chamber, memories of a love now reduced to ashes echoed through the air, leaving the duke to confront the emptiness that stretched before him.

The fire that claimed his beloved wife's life left the once unyielding duke forever changed. The flames not only devoured the physical form of his cherished duchess but also consumed a part of him, scorching his soul in the process.

Haunted by the searing image of her turning to ashes before his eyes, the duke emerged from the fiery ordeal a mere shell of his former self. The vibrant spirit that once defined him had been replaced by a profound emptiness, a void that echoed with the silence of irreparable loss.

Gone was the unwavering strength that commanded respect, replaced by the shadows of grief that clung to him like an indelible mark. The spark of life that once animated his eyes was extinguished, leaving behind a hollow gaze that spoke of the profound sorrow etched into his being.

The duchy, once buoyed by the presence of their esteemed leader, now navigated uncertain waters with a duke who bore the weight of a tragedy too heavy to articulate. Every corridor of the grand mansion whispered the tale of a love extinguished in the flames, painting a somber backdrop to the once lively halls.

Her passing left a haunting reminder of the profound impact she had on the duke's life. In the aftermath of the fire, the surviving fragments of his heart clung to the ashes of their shared existence, forever marked by the indescribable pain of witnessing his wife burn to ashes in front of him.

"Your grace?" Cyan's voice echoed through the silent chamber, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that clung to the air. His footsteps resounded, breaking the oppressive stillness as he approached the grieving duke fixated on the urn.

"Your grace, a legion from the Imperial Court is set to arrive in a week. We need your decision on how to approach this impending visit," Cyan's words held both urgency and a plea for the duke to redirect his focus to the pressing matters that awaited.

As Cyan continued to implore the duke's attention, Roshan remained lost in the silent contemplation of the urn before him. It was a month since the tragic incident, and the weight of grief had yet to loosen its grip on the mourning duke.