A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 355: I Can’t Do It!

Chapter 355: I Can’t Do It!

Draven didn’t give a response, nor did he even nod his head. Mr. Jean, very well understood.

He took his bag off and stepped forward to stand beside Draven.

"Your Highness, would you mind leaving the room?"

Draven didn’t say a word but simply stood up, exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

Mr. Jean looked at Avelina and approached her on the bed. He reached out his hand, grabbing her hand to check for her pulse as well as her heartbeat. He checked her breathing, but everything came back negative in the end.

He could only sigh and shake his head. Avelina’s cold body was enough to let him know she was dead, but he still wanted to be thoroughly sure, and indeed, she was dead.

"Poor girl..." He stared at Avelina, saddened. "They must have drowned her, despite the amount of blood she’d lost." He couldn’t even begin to ponder who could have done such a thing to her.

Mr. Jean turned around and left the room. There, by the side, Draven stood, his back pressed against the wall.

"Your Highness." Mr. Jean turned to him and bowed slightly.

"How...is she?" Draven asked in a low voice, holding onto the little hope he could claw at.

Mr. Jean cynically shook his head at him. "She’s really dead. There is nothing I can do."

"I see..." Draven nodded, swallowing. "It’s...okay." His voice broke in between, as though he were about to sob.

Mr. Jean gazed at him and turned around, attempting to leave, but as though he had something in mind, he came to a stop.

Draven asked, "What is it?"

"I do have a suggestion if you would be willing to listen," Mr. Jean said.

Draven finally raised his head to look at him. "What...?"

"You can still save her and bring her back," Mr. Jean stated. "But...it would cost her quite a lot."

Draven stared at him and slowly dilated his eyes, catching onto what Mr. Jean meant. He immediately shook his head, completely against it. "No! No, no, I can’t! I can’t do that!"

Mr. Jean sighed. "I know it is a hard decision, Your Highness, but if you really love your wife, I don’t see a reason why you can’t. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something for what you desire. Unless you are willing to let her soul die completely, then I have nothing more to offer."

"This is your only chance to bring her back. I do not think she would hate you for saving her, irrespective of the method."

Draven shook his head frantically, punching his fist into the wall. "I can’t! I can’t do it."

Mr. Jean raised his brow and exhaled, helpless. "Well then, I shall take my leave." He bowed and turned around. "I have sealed her soul for now, but it can only last for an hour. If an hour goes by and you haven’t done anything, her soul will truly be gone. There would be no saving her even if you were to use the method I proposed, so think this through." He exited the mansion.

Draven breathed slowly and steadily, his shoulders rising and falling. He flickered his lashes and suddenly began to chuckle with sadness brimming in his eyes. He threw his head back, laughing so much that his laughter slowly morphed into a cry, his eyes becoming blurry from the tears steaming up in his pupils.

He stared at the ceiling, and when he realized that he couldn’t see properly anymore due to some hot liquid clouding his eyes, he reached his hand up, touching his face.

He touched his eyes, his soul quivering in what one would call realization.

"Wha..." Draven lowered his head, extending his hands out. His tears broke, dropping onto his palms. He gazed at the bubbles of tears, completely dormant in bewilderment and confusion.

"Draven...?" There, a close distance away from him, Valentine stood, staring at him with widened eyes. He wasn’t hallucinating, right? Draven was actually crying right in front of him. How? Wasn’t he incapable? He’d never shed a single tear before, so...why? H-how?

Draven lifted his head, shooting a glance at him. He asked in a soft, broken voice. "Am I...crying? Is this...is this..."

Valentine took a step forward to approach him, but Draven turned around, walking into the room and slamming the door shut behind him. He locked it and slid down to the floor, his head buried in his knees, which were curled up to his chest for support.

He was overwhelmed like never before. His chest felt heavy and was tightening as though it could burst. He wasn’t even sure if he was getting proper ventilation because even breathing appeared hard for him at that moment.

His head was in a frenzy, and it felt as though everything was nothing but a horrible nightmare. Maybe, just maybe, if he opened his eyes and woke up from such a nightmare, he would come to realize that Avelina was just fine, living happily with her family.

I mean, his tears weren’t even possible? He’d never cried before, thus it must be a dream—a nightmare.

Maybe all this was in his head, and it was all nothing more than a hallucination. But still, the reality was right there in front of him. He was not hallucinating, and yes, Avelina was dead. She was gone, and he would never get to hear her voice, see her smile, or have her in his arms. She’d left him before he could come get her.

She was...

Draven gripped chunks of his hair, nearly pulling his hair out. His head was hurting as though a nail were being hammered into it. He grunted in pain and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling while he breathed heavily. He felt as though he was going crazy.

"Avelina..." He glanced at her lifeless body that was on the bed. "Avelina!" He hurriedly crawled to the bed and grabbed her hand to place it on his cheek.

"Will you come back to me? Huh? Will you? W-w-will you?" he asked. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."