Chapter 18
I ran straight to my room.
“We should get used to our new titles for each other.”
That low voice I heard after the kiss—I couldn’t even respond properly. I blurted out something completely unrelated.
“…It’s hot today. I should go inside.”
Anyone could tell I was flustered. The weather was cold, and I was wearing nothing but a thin dress.
Of course, I had a shawl draped over it, but it couldn’t completely keep out the chill.
Hot, really?
And I even dropped the shawl on my way out.
Meanwhile, Johannes looked completely unbothered. As if a kiss meant nothing to him.
“He must’ve done this a lot.”
Naturally. He wasn’t exactly inexperienced.
He said he had no worries—not that he had no past.
But for a woman who’s about to marry him to act all cool, only to run away like that over a single kiss…
It must’ve looked ridiculous.
“Ahhhh!”
My whole body was burning.
I threw myself onto the bed and pounded the mattress with my legs.
I should use the upcoming banquet as an excuse not to see Johannes Schultz for a while.
All ten or so windows were open. The pitch-black night sky was the only artwork in the room.
The smoke from the deeply inhaled cigarette vanished into the air. Johannes stubbed out the still-burning cigarette and rose from the chair.
Prette Gunner, who had been waiting, handed him a thick file.
“This is the invitation list for the upcoming banquet. Should we send one to the royal family as well?”
A sharp line formed between Johannes’s otherwise smooth brows.
“…Not sure.”
The king, once fairly intelligent, seemed to grow greedier by the day. Whatever wisdom he had was long gone, replaced by the toad who now sat on the throne revealing more of himself every day.
“The Little Duke of Schultz—oh wait, no, the Duke of Schultz now! I hope he manages Müssen well, in remorse for his father’s sins.”
Not a trace of guilt could be seen on that sly, smirking face.
And the toad’s children were no better. A useless little fox, and a snake meant to inherit the throne.
Johannes flipped through the papers with his large hands.
Most of the notable nobles were on the list.
His eyes stopped at a name outlined in red:
Windsor Royal Family – Edward Windsor
Marquess Russell – Bellatrix Russell
“Is it alright to proceed with this list?” Prette Gunner asked.
Johannes gave a dry nod.
“What’s the latest from the royal family?”
“They’re not showing any particular movement. From what our planted servant reports, it’s suspected that the master may already be aware of your disappearance, but nothing conclusive.”
Gunner continued cautiously, observing Johannes’s expression.
“They seem to be showing great interest in the article about you and the commoner woman—especially Prince Edward.”
Edward Windsor.
Johannes’s brow furrowed at the image of that loathsome face, even more irritating than the king’s.
A royal degenerate with no capability, living off a fancy title as the director of Bardon’s police force. No one knew what he actually did.
He was just one of many moths circling Johannes, looking to find a weakness—but not even worth sparing attention on.
There was no time for a barking fox who craved attention.
As if sensing Johannes’s thoughts, Prette Gunner asked his final question.
“Did something happen with Miss Prim?”
Edith Prim. Plenty had happened.
They danced. Walked in the garden. Asked if the other was seeing someone. And then…
“She said she’d be too busy preparing for the banquet for a while.”
Johannes suddenly let out a rough laugh. Her excuse was so transparent, and the memory of that moment so vivid.
“Nothing happened.”
Prette Gunner lingered as if hoping for a better answer, but retreated quickly under Johannes’s sharp gaze.
Left alone, Johannes sat back down and recalled the woman who had so confidently told him to kiss her.
She was like two different people—one inside the ducal house, and one outside it.
“Go ahead, really. I don’t place much meaning in such things.”
The woman who tried to hide her discomfort while forcing herself to accept the kiss—where had she gone? She had stiffened like a statue and then bolted.
Even left her shawl behind in her rush.
The image was amusing, admittedly. But if he were to be more honest—it was irritating.
Johannes glanced at the cream-colored shawl tossed over the sofa.
He recalled her face—so dull and mechanical when she gave her boring replies, and then how her expression twisted before she ran off.
And finally, the fragile look he saw on her face outside.
“Edith Prim.”
And…
He looked back down at the invitation list with eyes like a star in the dawn. Cold, green eyes that stared straight at him filled his vision.
For a moment, Johannes’s lips curled into a sneer.
Maybe she really does dislike me enough to run away.
Since then, I’d tried my best to avoid Johannes.
I practiced dancing with Marilyn whenever possible. I skipped meals, saying I wasn’t hungry.
But it was true that I’d been genuinely busy, sleeping less and running around all day. It left me physically worn out.
Today would be the last of that routine. The banquet was tomorrow, so I had to see Johannes at least once.
It had been nearly a week since I saw him.
“I heard you’ve been very busy,” he said nonchalantly as he ate.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think much of what happened that day.
All my effort avoiding him felt like it had gone to waste.
I forced myself to nod with a neutral expression.
“You left your shawl behind, by the way.”
“…Did I? I guess I didn’t notice. It was hot that day…”
A weak lie. But he looked like he believed it. Deeply.
Whether it was due to his military background or just his nature, he sometimes had this stiff but oddly naïve demeanor.
What a relief.
“I remember it being quite cold that day. You must run warm.”
“Yes, I guess I do.”
Another lie.
I was more sensitive to cold than anyone—still wore long sleeves into early summer.
“I suppose you’ll be wearing thinner clothes from now on.”
I replied in the flattest tone possible. Thankfully, Johannes seemed convinced.
He looked at me quietly with those blue eyes, then gave a slightly stiff smile.
“I’ll remember that.”
And he meant it.
“The Duke sent a new dress for you.”
On the morning of the banquet, the box he sent contained an incredibly thin cream-colored muslin dress and a pair of tall heels.
I picked up the plain card placed atop the dress.
To my dear Edith Prim,
As the blazing sun shone through my window, I thought of you. Please wear this with joy.
I stared blankly down at the cream-colored dress.
“You must really feel warm often. It’s a winter dress, but look how thin it is. I didn’t know that about you,” Marilyn said dryly.
She lifted the muslin dress, examined it, and smiled with satisfaction.
“It follows the current trend without being too common. The color suits you perfectly. His Grace has excellent taste.”
“…Does he?”
It was far too late to come clean or refuse it now.
The lie I told to avoid one awkward situation had ballooned so much that I’d have to explain everything to undo it.
And how humiliating would that be?
I remembered his blue eyes—so sincere at the time.
I didn’t want to be seen as a liar by the man who would become my husband.
“I like it too,” I said with a forced smile.
The one saving grace was that, as Marilyn said, the dress looked perfect on me.
“You’re stunning. Truly. You’ll be a perfect match beside the Duke.”
Marilyn helped with the dress and hair ornaments. It was the first time she had ever praised me so sincerely.
“You won’t be needing a shawl.”
I forced a smile in response. I had no intention of saying yes and making this misunderstanding worse.
I wondered briefly if she might pack me one just in case—but she didn’t.
Once the servants came to fetch me, all I could do was go out on time.
A sigh escaped me.
I’m doomed.
My headache, which had started earlier, now throbbed even more.
