Chapter 304: Lifting Curse Part 4

Christine's lips trembled. Her knees gave out as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

And then another.

And another.

It was as if the floodgates of years of helplessness, terror, anger, and desperate hope finally shattered. She pressed her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle the broken sobs that tore from her chest, but she couldn't hold them back.

The sight of her mother — her beautiful, gentle mother — free at last from the cruel grip of the curse.

Christine wept, her whole body trembling, her tears falling onto the runes beneath her knees.

"Mama…" she whispered again, voice cracking.

She forced herself upright, her legs unsteady, and stumbled toward the ritual bed where Isolda lay sleeping peacefully.

Christine knelt at her side and gathered her mother's hand into both of hers, clutching it to her heart. It was warm now — not cold, not clammy with fever or drained by dark magic. Warm. Alive.

Unable to hold back anymore, Christine leaned forward, resting her head against Isolda's arm, sobbing openly into the crook of her mother's elbow.

"I am glad" she whispered between broken breaths. "I am glad you are fine now mother…"

Seraphina watched the scene quietly, her own heart heavy but calm. Her sharp gaze drifted to Adrian, who remained standing silently, arms crossed, gaze fixed on Christine and Isolda.

His face was unreadable, but Seraphina could sense the depth of the emotions churning beneath that calm exterior.

After a few long moments, Seraphina exhaled and broke the silence gently. "We should move her," she said, voice low so as not to disturb Christine.

"Even though we've erased the Harbinger, this chamber… it was steeped in its corruption even if it was not long, it's not a place for her to rest."

Adrian nodded. "You're right." His voice was quiet but firm. "It's better to be safe than sorry later on."

He stepped forward, lowering his hand to Christine's shoulder. She flinched slightly at the touch but looked up at him, her tear-streaked face softening at the sight of her big brother.

"We're going to take her back to her room," Adrian said gently.

Christine sniffled and nodded, pressing one last kiss to her mother's hand before letting go. She stood slowly, wiping at her cheeks.

Adrian turned to the door and called out firmly, "Send for the servants. We need help moving Lady Isolda."

A maid hurried in moments later, bowing deeply. Adrian gave quick instructions, and the servants moved efficiently, reverently, as they prepared to lift Isolda.

Adrian paused a moment, then turned to another nearby maid. "Also," he added, voice lowering, "find Chris, tell her to come immediately, we have lifted the curse from her mother."

The maid curtsied and rushed off.

Within minutes, several servants carefully and respectfully lifted Isolda from the ritual bed, securing her in clean linens as they transported her gently through the manor's halls.

Adrian, Christine, and Seraphina followed closely behind.

By the time they reached the more comfortable quarters set aside for Isolda, Chris came running down the hall, her eyes wide with hope and fear.

"Adrian" she gasped, nearly tripping in her haste. "I— The maid said— Mother—!"

Adrian caught her shoulders, steadying her. He smiled, the kind of smile that told her everything she needed to know before a word even passed his lips.

"She's free, Chris," he said simply.

Chris clapped both hands over her mouth, her body trembling with barely restrained emotion. Tears immediately welled in her eyes.

The servants placed Isolda carefully on the large, warm bed, surrounding her with soft pillows and thick blankets.

They lit gentle lamps around the room and added a fresh vase of flowers to the bedside table — everything they could do to make the environment peaceful and soothing.

When the servants finally withdrew, Adrian, Christine, Chris, and Seraphina remained.

The two sisters moved toward the bed at once.

Christine knelt beside her mother again, gently smoothing Isolda's hair away from her face.

Chris, hesitating for just a heartbeat, joined her on the other side. She reached out and took her mother's other hand, squeezing it tightly.

Isolda shifted faintly in her sleep, a soft, content sigh escaping her lips.

Chris pressed her forehead against her mother's hand, her shoulders shaking. "Mother… everything is alright now...we are living well... and with you with us we will be even more happy..."

She whispered while holding herself back to prevent from crying aloud.

Christine reached across the bed, and their hands met — sister to sister — over Isolda's resting form.

They clung to each other, sharing silent sobs and soft laughter through their tears. Both had fought so hard, endured so much.

And now, for the first time in what felt like forever, they had their mother back.

"She's… she's so peaceful," Chris said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "I forgot what she looked like without all the pain."

"She's beautiful," Christine said, smiling through her tears. "Just like when we were small."

Adrian leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching the scene with a deep warmth in his chest. A rare, quiet pride filled him — not for defeating an enemy, not for claiming a victory — but for giving these two something priceless: hope.

A future.

Seraphina stood beside him, her arms folded lightly as she watched the reunion. She said nothing, but her eyes — normally sharp and calculating — were softened with something rare: contentment.

In the center of the room, illuminated by the golden light of the lamps, Christine and Chris stayed at their mother's side, whispering stories, promises, and dreams.

Dreams that, for the first time in years, no longer felt impossible.

Their family was whole again.

And no abyss, no curse, no darkness would ever tear them apart again.

Christine brushed a stray lock of hair from Isolda’s forehead, her fingers trembling as she marveled at how serene her mother looked.

Chris leaned closer, unable to stop the small tears slipping down her cheeks. "Mother... when you wake up," she whispered, voice cracking, "we’ll show you everything you missed. All the gardens we planted, the celebrations we had... everything."

Christine smiled gently, squeezing her sister’s hand. "And you’ll finally get to laugh again. No more pain. No more fear."

They sat there quietly, the rhythmic sound of Isolda’s breathing a soft melody that soothed their battered hearts. Every little rise and fall of her chest felt like a miracle — a confirmation that the nightmare had truly ended.

Adrian stepped closer, his shadow stretching over them in the warm lamplight. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, grounding them, his touch a silent vow that they would never again have to face such darkness alone.

"She’ll wake up soon," he said softly. "Give her time to rest. Her soul needs it."

Christine and Chris nodded, neither willing to let go of Isolda’s hands just yet.

Seraphina, ever the quiet sentinel, moved to the door, giving the family their moment of privacy.

Adrian lingered a little longer, watching the sisters and the mother who had suffered far too long. His heart, so often hardened by battle and duty, softened in the quiet peace of that moment.

He smiled — small, but real — before finally stepping back, letting love and hope fill the space where sorrow had once lived.