Chapter 290

For just a moment, Athena frowned at Jessa’s words before collecting herself. She knew full well how much Xander cared for her, but it was odd hearing this coming from Jessa. Athena glanced at Jessa, but the latter had already averted her gaze.

Jessa buried her face in the pillow and mumbled, “Ouch, that hurts a bit. Go easy on me.”

Athena looked at her hand in surprise; she hadn’t even come close to touching Jessa’s wound. It was strange, Jessa hadn’t even flinched when Athena cleaned her wound earlier.

“What is this? Did he send you to talk me into something?” Athena asked, her tone laced with skepticism. Her lips curved slightly as she found herself thinking of Xander’s handsome face. Athena suddenly wondered where he was now, or what he might be doing.

Jessa turned back to her and said softly, “I’m not here to convince you of anything. I just want to remind you, cherish the one you have now. Don’t end up like me…” Jessa’s words trailed off as she fell silent.

Athena had no intention of prying into Jessa’s past, so she let the matter drop. After applying the medicine and carefully bandaging Jessa’s wound with gauze, Athena finally said, “It looks like we’ll have to stay at the inn for a few days.”

Jessa bolted upright, only to cry out as the sudden movement tugged at her wound. “No way!” she insisted. “We have to get to Wendral Mountain right now!”

Jessa winced, sweat beading on her forehead from the searing pain, yet she stubbornly tried to get up, ignoring her wound. Athena firmly pressed down on her shoulder. “Do you want to die? If that wound gets infected, it could be fatal. I call the shots here. We’re resting for a few days.”

Although Athena was eager to find the evidence, she couldn’t just disregard Jessa’s injury. She had no choice but to put things on hold for now.

Jessa couldn’t prevail over Athena and, reluctantly, lay back down. After that, Athena placed a basin of water on a stool by the door; the slightest nudge would send it crashing down, serving as a simple alarm. Then, she spread some bedding on the bench in the outer room and lay down fully clothed.

Exhausted from the night’s ordeal, both women fell deep asleep as soon as their heads touched the pillows. Athena’s sleep came in fragments, light and restless. Every little noise made Athena flinch awake, her body still wound tight with tension.

But despite staying on high alert all night, nothing happened. The assassins vanished into thin air, as if they had never existed. Athena opened the door, her mind still unsettled, contemplating whether she should find new lodging.

But the moment she opened the door, a familiar figure stood before her.

Beneath the veranda’s eaves, Michael leaned against the railing, cradling his sword, his eyes gently closed. The morning light bathed Michael’s face, and for a fleeting moment, Athena thought the young man she once knew had returned.

A faint, ironic smile played on her lips. The past was gone, and there was no bringing it back, unless time could somehow turn in reverse.

The creak of the door jolted Michael from his rest. In an instant, his eyes flew open, sword already drawn. But the moment Michael recognized Athena, the fierce killing intent in his eyes completely melted away.

Even the mighty Marquis of Somers, who had never flinched before legions of enemies, yet found himself utterly flustered the moment he laid eyes on Athena.

He scrambled to his feet, looking for all the world like a kid caught doing something wrong. Michael’s rosy lips parted slightly as if to speak, but Athena, expressionless, had already swept past him. He didn’t even register in her eyes, let alone in her heart.

Yet, Michael felt no trace of bitterness, only a quiet sense of relief, as if finally atoning for his sins. This was his debt to Athena, one he could never repay in this lifetime.

Athena went to fetch some food from the innkeeper herself. Unwilling to trust anyone else with the task, she carried the tray up personally. When Athena returned, Michael was still standing guard outside the door.

The tiny veranda bench was ill-suited for his tall frame. Seeing him cramped awkwardly there tugged at her heartstrings. Though spring had arrived, a biting chill still lingered in the air.

Athena noticed Michael’s ears and hands were crimson with cold. He rubbed his hands together briskly, then cupped them and exhaled warm breath onto his palms.

Suddenly, a fresh loaf of bread was placed in front of Michael. Michael looked up in surprise, only to see Athena’s expressionless face. Before Michael could react, Athena thrust the bread into his chilled hands and disappeared back into the room without another word.

The sweet, homey scent of warm bread filled the air. Michael stood frozen, a thousand memories washing over him, before a slow grin curved his lips. He lifted the loaf, hesitated for just a second, and then took a gentle bite. He savored each bite, the sweet warmth spreading straight to his heart.

When Athena returned to the room, she found that Jessa was already awake. Jessa sat at the table, her eyes thoughtfully fixed on Athena, her expression unreadable. She asked pointedly, “You’re not going to send him away!”

Athena placed the food on the table, gently handing Jessa a spoon. “You’re injured, you need someone to watch your back,” she said.

“I don’t need his protection; if not for this injury, he’d already have fallen to my sword.” Jessa clearly wasn’t appreciative; her hostility toward Michael ran deeper than Athena had imagined.

Athena glanced up mid-bite, brows raised. “Do you have something against him or something?”

Jessa shook her head, “No.”

“Then why?” Athena pressed.

“Because of the way he looks at you,” Jessa replied.

Suddenly, Athena began to realize where all of Jessa’s hostility was coming from. Being Xander’s loyalist, she naturally regarded Michael as an enemy.

But, Athena still felt something was off. She told Jessa, “There’s no future between Michael and me. What’s past is past, there’s no going back.”

Jessa looked at Athena and asked, “Even if he risked his life for you, you still wouldn’t be moved?”

Athena thought for a moment, then said, “I could even give my life for him, but I can’t bring myself to treat him the way I used to.”

At these words, Jessa felt the tension in her body suddenly melt away. She took a big, decisive bite of the bread and flashed Athena a relieved smile. “Good,” she said, her tone finally at ease.

Athena didn’t say anything, just thinking to herself, She really is such a simple soul!

After two days of rest at the inn, Jessa’s wound had healed remarkably well. With Athena’s treatment, Jessa remained free of infection and showed no signs of fever. Jessa could have stayed another two days, but she simply couldn’t stand being cooped up indoors any longer. No matter what, she insisted they hit the road.

Athena had no choice but to hire a carriage and continue on their way. The carriage rolled out of Lochmere. Inside, Jessa pulled back the curtain and peered out, spotting Michael trailing them at a steady distance.

Jessa dropped the curtain, her face twisted in resentment. “Like some damn shadow,” she muttered.

She kept anxiously peering out the window. Athena finally couldn’t help but ask, “What are you looking for?”

“I already sent word to him, why isn’t he here yet!” Jessa said.

Athena arched an eyebrow. “Him?”

“Oh, I meant Prince Xander, of course.” A smug smile tugged at Jessa’s lips, her eyes gleaming at the sound of his name.

However, suddenly, Jessa’s expression froze. Athena sensed something was wrong. Just then, the sounds of fighting erupted outside the carriage.

She looked out the window, only to see a dozen or so black-clad assassins locked in fierce combat with Michael. Steel clashed, filling the air and instantly ratcheting up the tension.

With Wendral Mountain almost within reach, the assassins could hold back no longer and finally struck.

Athena didn’t hesitate. She tightened her grip on the reins and called out to Jessa, “Hold tight!”

She cracked the whip across the horse’s back. Stung by the pain, the horse whinnied and bolted forward in a wild gallop.

Jessa shot Athena a startled look. “You’re just going to leave him to his fate?”

She was talking about Michael.

Athena kept her eyes fixed ahead, her face calm and her voice unwavering.

“He’ll be fine—if those assassins really wanted him dead, they wouldn’t have let him live this long.”

It seemed incredibly risky, but every move was precisely calculated.