The Devil's Duchess-Chapter 71: Second chance

Berith walked ahead, his footsteps weaving through the southern plaza like a man with no intention of turning back. If anyone in the crowd looked twice at him, they didn’t dare approach.

Marcella followed a few paces behind. She had already made her choice, and it was to follow this man wherever he went.

Even when he tried so desperately to keep her out.

The market was just waking. Merchants called out in sing-song voices, arranging baskets of summer peaches, and strings of herbs under the rising sun.

Marcella trailed him, her eyes flicking to the side whenever he glanced back. She paused at a shopfront, pretending to admire a display of brass trinkets and incense sticks when he turned his head. She didn’t want him to see that she was watching him, even though they both knew she was.

Berith exhaled, then turned his gaze forward again. Gods, she was infuriating. Like a ghost with too much will.

He kept walking.

She kept following.

Finally, the market began to thin, the road narrowing into a dirt path that wound out toward the edge of the city. The bustle faded behind them, replaced by the wind rustling through trees.

Soon, they reached the entrance of the forest, thick with ivy-covered roots and the scent of pine.

Berith halted.

Marcella stopped a few steps behind, trying not to seem like she had been tailing him like a pick pocketer. She turned slightly, pretending to examine the ivy climbing the wooden fence that bordered the path, her fingers trailing lazily over the leaves.

"You know," Berith said without turning, "you’re not very good at pretending you’re not following me."

Marcella arched a brow, her tone sweetly sarcastic. "I wasn’t pretending. I just happen to be going in the exact same direction as you."

He turned his head just enough for her to see his smirk, brief and exasperated. "Like a thief in broad daylight."

She stepped forward, closing the space between them. "Thieves don’t wear violet gown and stop to admire flowerpots."

Berith rolled his eyes. "You’re insufferable."

Marcella smiled innocently. "Thank you."

A pause.

"If you’re going to insist on tailing me," Berith muttered, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder, "at least walk beside me."

Marcella blinked, a bit thrown off. That wasn’t what she expected to hear. She had prepared herself for another gruff dismissal like he usually did. Instead... this?

Her lips twitched. "Oh? Have I earned such a promotion?"

Berith didn’t answer, but the slight twitch in his jaw said enough. With a grin, she stepped forward and joined him, their feet moving in sync as they continued along the narrow forest path.

"You really should have returned to Cardania." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"I told you before," she said gently. "I didn’t need your permission, and I don’t regret following you."

They began walking side by side. Birdsong flitted above them, with sunlight trickling in golden flecks through the leaves. The trail curved gently, guiding them deeper into the forest’s heart.

Just then, her gaze caught something small and trembling on the ground ahead.

A baby bird.

It lay sprawled on a bed of moss and fallen leaves, chirping weakly, wings too small to help itself.

Marcella slowed down immediately, concern blooming in her chest. She dropped to her knees beside it. "Oh no," she whispered. "Poor thing. It must have fallen from the tree."

Berith paused, watching her from behind.

A rustle above.

Marcella looked up and gasped. One by one, tiny feathery bodies plopped from the branches above. Two more chicks joined the first, peeping in distress as they struggled helplessly.

She flinched. "What...? Did their mother abandon them?"

Berith approached, peering up at the tall oak they had likely fallen from. "Or she pushed them," he said flatly.

Marcella whipped around to stare at him, horrified. "Excuse me?"

"A mother bird sometimes pushes the weakest chicks from the nest," he continued, voice devoid of emotion. "Ensures the stronger ones survive with enough food. Nature’s cold like that."

"That’s horrible."

"It’s survival."

Marcella turned back to the shivering chicks and gently cupped one in her hands. Its tiny heart beating frantically against her palm.

"I don’t care," she murmured. "They deserve a chance too."

Berith sighed. "Even if it goes against nature?"

"Yes," she said, holding the bird close to her chest. "Even then."

Without another word, Marcella glanced up, spotting a nest nestled between the fork of two branches, high above. Her eyes narrowed.

She was going to put them back.

Berith raised an eyebrow as she stood and looked around. "Marcella..."

"I’m going to climb."

"You’ll fall."

"Then catch me."

Marcella began looking for footholds along the tree trunk, trying to grip the gnarled bark. But the tree was tall, and her boots slipped on the moss.

She muttered under her breath and tried again. No use.

Berith leaned against the tree, folding his arms. "Told you."

She spun toward him, hands on her hips. "Alright, fine. Then I need a ladder."

"This forest doesn’t come with furniture."

Marcella grinned. "Lucky me. I brought my own."

He blinked. "What?"

She pointed at him, triumphant. "You."

"Absolutely not. I’m not kneeling." Berith narrowed his eyes.

"Please?" Marcella asked, voice softening, eyes wide. "For the birds."

He looked at her, then at the fragile creatures in her arms. He cursed under his breath. "Fine. Just this once."

With an exaggerated groan, Berith dropped to one knee. "Step carefully. If you fall and crack your skull, I’m not carrying your corpse back to Cardania."

"You say the sweetest things," Marcella replied brightly, placing one foot on his shoulder. Balancing carefully, she reached up, stretching toward the nest.

It was higher than she thought, but with Berith’s support, she managed to grip the branch and hoist herself up just enough to peek into the nest.

Empty.

Her brow furrowed. There was no mother bird. No larger chick. Just... an empty nest with frayed twigs where the chicks once lay.

"They weren’t thrown," Marcella said aloud. "They fell."

Berith looked up. "What?"

"The nest’s damaged. It probably shifted in the wind or during rain. The babies just rolled out." Marcella gently laid the chicks back in the nest, adjusting the twigs to cradle their small bodies. They peeped softly, huddling together for warmth.

She stared down at them with a bittersweet smile. "I hope she comes back," she whispered.

"Marcella," Berith barked, "get down now. Before I leave you up there."

Marcella rolled her eyes but didn’t stop admiring the scene one last time. "Alright, alright!" she called, brushing bark off her palms. Then, she made her way down the tree carefully.

"Of all the idiotic things you’ve done..." Berith muttered, brushing leaves and dirt off his cloak with exaggerated annoyance. "Climbing a tree, stepping on me for birds that nature already deemed...."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Marcella cut in. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it struck through his words. She was still catching her breath, still dusting off leaves from her gown.

Marcella gestured to the canopy above, "That fall, for them... it was a new beginning, a second chance. Maybe they will fight harder now. Maybe they will grow stronger and live better."