Chapter 33
Is the surname Prim a common one?
Edward scrutinized the documents more closely.
“Mother: Candice Keller. Died giving birth to Edith Prim.
Father: Isaac Prim. Served as a navy sergeant in Dochilia. Died in war.”
Muttering to himself, Edward let out a sigh.
“So the Duchess is the daughter of Sergeant Isaac Prim.”
Clutching the paper tightly, he pulled up one of his older memories.
His first meeting with Isaac Prim hadn’t been terrible, but their relationship had quickly turned sour.
It had been when Edward was sent by royal decree to dock at Baltham and dig up faults in Johannes Schultz.
“Are you the one in charge of the Baltham engine room? No need to be so stiff.”
“…I believe there was already a fleet inspection not long ago. Why again, so soon…?”
As expected of someone from Johannes Schultz’s direct command—he was always questioning things.
Or perhaps he simply harbored a grudge against the royal family.
Back then, Edward had pitied the mere commoner’s resentment and tried to treat him somewhat warmly.
“So stiff. I hate this kind of work too. But when orders come from above, what can you do? When the higher-ups say jump, you jump.”
Edward’s expression grew more sour.
And now, the daughter of that Isaac Prim had ended up marrying Johannes Schultz.
What a filthy, tangled fate.
Come to think of it, her upright green eyes looked just like his.
Edward’s eyes narrowed.
Perhaps that was why she showed such hostility toward him…
“This could be interesting.”
It really might turn out to be more fun than expected.
Going to Müssen, seeing that woman’s face again…
“The daughter of someone I once cared for, married to Johannes Schultz of all people.”
Finishing that thought, Edward suddenly clutched his stomach and burst into loud laughter.
After a while, once the laughter subsided, he spoke.
“Don’t you think so, Frederick?”
As if used to this kind of reaction, Edward’s gardener, Frederick, looked up from the corner where he’d been writing something and slowly nodded.
“I was late in offering my condolences. I’ll need to visit the Duchess soon, offer my sympathies as well.”
The culprit behind the murder still hadn’t been caught.
Worry kept me from sleeping, and I ended up pulling an all-nighter in the study.
“So that means people are still in danger.”
Frowning deeply, I looked up at Sir Fret, who had come to deliver today’s documents.
“That’s right. For now, at least,” Sir Fret replied in a calm tone.
How could he sound so indifferent?
Seeing how I couldn’t shake my serious expression, he quickly changed the subject.
“About the house you used to live in, my lady.”
That caught my attention. I lifted my head sharply.
“The house?”
“Yes. Since the murder case has lost its spotlight, and the neighbors’ complaints about noise increased, there are no more reporters around. I think it’s safe for you to visit now.”
“When would be a good time to go?”
“Whenever you like.”
“Really?”
I recalled the last time I left that house.
I remembered Lady Pensler looking at me with a puzzled expression.
She must’ve heard that I married Johannes Schultz… right?
She was someone who had always treated me like a daughter and had helped me greatly after Father’s passing.
I didn’t want her to learn about my life through a few lines in the paper.
Though she probably already had.
“Then, may I go to the village today? I want to stop by the neighbor’s house as well. She helped me a lot, and I disappeared without a word. She must’ve been surprised.”
“Of course.”
Sir Fret offered to prepare a carriage, but I firmly declined.
I didn’t want to draw attention by arriving in a Schultz family carriage.
I refused an escort as well. There had only been articles—not pictures of my face.
That would only attract more attention.
Besides, the house wasn’t far from the estate anyway…
“I’m only going to look around the house quickly and visit Lady Pensler, so I’ll be fine.”
When I smiled, Sir Fret added with a firm tone:
“You must return to the castle by six o’clock.”
Much later, after finishing my duties for the day, I left the Evanstein estate.
It was my first outing since the marriage.
“My lord, I have something to report.”
Johannes, who had been reclining in his chair, slowly straightened his posture.
A report at this hour, before even finishing the estate’s business?
It must be about Edith—or the royal family.
Though judging by the expression on the butler’s face, it didn’t seem urgent… but probably wasn’t good news either.
With a nod from Johannes, Fret Gunner continued.
“My lady went out today. She declined a carriage and escort, but I assigned guards to follow her discreetly. She’s due back by six.”
Johannes’s brows furrowed. His voice turned sharp.
“Are you saying you allowed it on your own? Without informing me?”
“There’s no need for concern. The guards assigned are the most elite—”
Fret stopped mid-sentence, a hint of frustration in his tone.
It wasn’t strange for Johannes to react this way, but the current situation wasn’t normal either.
“No need for concern?” Johannes snapped.
The murderer was still at large, and the royal family might act against Edith at any time.
“She seemed troubled by the fact the killer hadn’t been caught, so I suggested she get some fresh air. She’s been stuck inside since arriving at Evanstein. I didn’t think she needed your permission for that.”
Fret added the last part with a confused look.
“Fret Gunner. You’re not seriously under the illusion that I married that woman out of affection, are you?”
“…Of course not, but still—she is the Duchess of the Schultz household. Her going out doesn’t require your approval, does it?”
Technically, it didn’t. A duchess did not need her husband’s permission to go out.
But Edith hadn’t grown up as a noble.
Her face wasn’t known yet. Anything could happen.
She seemed to be careful, but Johannes didn’t yet understand just how cautious Edith really was.
Letting her go out alone wasn’t the right move.
Still, since she’d already gone, there was no point in arguing further. Johannes closed his eyes and asked calmly:
“Why?”
“…The reporters seem to have cleared out from her old house.”
“Fret Gunner, you do know the nature of journalists, don’t you?”
“But the investigation was thorough, and nothing problematic was found. I judged that it’d be better for her to visit before her face becomes widely recognized.”
Fret Gunner’s judgments were usually sound. Johannes trusted his decisions.
This one wasn’t a bad call either. Normally, Johannes wouldn’t have made a fuss.
So why was this bothering him so much?
He let out a short sigh.
“I may be overstepping, but allow me to say this: I understand why you care so much about her. However—”
“…”
“If you continue acting this way, the lady will never open her heart to you.”
Johannes didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned back deeply into his chair.
After a moment, having made up his mind, he murmured:
“…Assign more men. If she’s even slightly late, I’ll go myself.”
Whether it was sincere or just a matter of necessity, it was unclear.
Fret Gunner nodded.
“One more thing—repairs to the west wing’s basement are unavoidable. We’ll need to move the contents soon.”
“Fine. Make sure she never goes near that area.”
So it was necessity.
For a moment, Johannes pitied Edith—who knew nothing.
As he continued to act the part of the cold-hearted man, Fret silently shook his head.
