Chapter 109: When love cannot be spoken
✦✧✦ Chapter 𝟏𝟎𝟗 ✦✧✦
❝ A Man Trapped in Silence, A Woman Reborn in Resolve ❞ “When love cannot be spoken, it rots within like a wound that never heals.”
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Johannes stood frozen, rooted in the spot where Edith had last stood. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but again, he withdrew. Each passing second deepened the shadow veiling his expression, and with every tightening of his grasp on the handle, thick veins emerged across the pale canvas of his knuckles.
He could still catch up to her—of that, he was certain. Edith didn’t know Herzburg’s alleys. She had no friends here, no haven to flee to. Returning alone to Mussen would be near impossible.
She couldn’t have gone far. Yet he… could not summon the courage to follow.
How could he pursue Edith without shame?
Instead, he remained. Within the silence of the house, Johannes closed his eyes. Deep furrows carved themselves between his brows. He had known—so bitterly known—that he owed her the truth, owed her the reason behind his proposal. But greed had made a coward of him.
For a fleeting, golden moment, he had been happy. And he could not bear to shatter that fragile illusion. Perhaps it was the first time he had known such joy since Leah’s death.
He could not face the loathing in Edith’s eyes—eyes that had once looked at him with wonder, now hollow and turned away.
“You put your pride first. Rather than honestly telling me the truth.”
Her words echoed relentlessly.
He buried his face in his hands. The image of her anguish blazed behind closed lids. A low, mirthless laugh slipped from his lips, bitter as ash.
If only he could blame it all on pride.
But it was fear. Fear that every bond he formed would end the same way—with pain, with abandonment.
Her wounded expression conjured another voice—a ghostly murmur from the past:
“Those closest to you always suffer. Look at the maids. Look at your mother. Look at your wife. Misery follows you like a shadow.”
“How did it feel to survive the crash alone? That face, so beautiful, disfigured… You lived on, but what kind of life is that, really?”
“You exist in place of your mother—Windsor’s precious jewel. You must live in eternal repentance.”
The same whispers, day after day, until Leah’s tragic death became a curse he could never escape.
“You, sir… may be nothing short of a nightmare.”
The woman who spoke those words has long since faded into shadow, but the poison of her voice lingered. Back then, Johannes had been too young, too shattered to resist. He had accepted the curse as truth.
Every time he saw his father grow quieter, more broken, he thought death might be easier. The maid’s words, once dismissed as hysteria, still haunted him. They shaped the man he became.
Now, he feared that Edith, too, would come to loathe him. That his deception would stain even her memories.
Perhaps it would’ve been better had she walked away in fury, hurled curses at him, erased him from her life.
But how does a man speak of love when he’s never known its shape? How does one offer a heart that’s never learned to feel?
With a slow, defeated motion, Johannes sank to the floor.
How was he supposed to face her again?
He resolved to do what he always did—pretend. Pretend nothing had changed. Pretend his heart wasn’t breaking.
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There was no sanctuary to be found.
I walked aimlessly through Herzburg’s quiet roads, and not a single villager met my eyes. I was Isaac Prim’s daughter—that alone made me a stranger, perhaps even a pariah.
“After that chaos this morning… it’s no wonder.”
The villagers likely shared a tight bond. When an outsider harmed one of their own, forgiveness was not easily given. Regardless of what Porche Max had done.
I stared down at the bloodstains, scattered like secrets across the dirt road.
“Porche Max… What will become of him?”
This was the man who betrayed both the Duke and his father. If he was left unchecked, he would only wreak havoc again. I knew something had to be done.
As I pieced together what steps to take, my mind cooled. My emotions, once boiling, simmered into clarity. I began to recall Johannes’ face—haunted, pained.
He hadn’t lied to me. Not once.
He had, instead, run from my reaction. Hidden his emotions to avoid confrontation. As he said, he didn’t want me to be hurt.
And perhaps, if I saw him through that lens, everything made sense.
I stood before the door to our home, gripping and releasing the handle repeatedly. Wrestling with my own hesitation.
When I finally stepped inside, Johannes greeted me with his usual composure—as though nothing had happened.
I understood now. He was preserving the illusion, too. Yet my chest ached with an unspoken grief.
I chewed the inside of my cheek and forced my voice steady.
“I have something to tell you… about Porche Max.”
“The man was executed,” he replied evenly.
“…What?”
My eyes widened.
“He knew too much,” Johannes said, tone dry. “And I couldn’t trust him to stay silent.”
“So… you killed him?”
He didn’t answer again. He didn’t need to.
This was no longer about right or wrong. A commoner had threatened a Duke and his wife. The outcome had always been inevitable.
I accepted the truth quietly. Johannes looked relieved and changed the subject.
“…I’ll return to Mussen. I’ve been away too long. And…”
“Yes, of course,” I interrupted quickly. I couldn’t bear to hear the word “divorce” again.
He hesitated. Something in his eyes flickered. Then he nodded slowly.
“If there’s anything you need, handle it now. I’m ready when you are.”
He had no belongings. There was nothing left to pack. Still, I nodded—and as he approached, he spoke again.
“I’ve never been dishonest with you. Edith, the reason I didn’t tell you the truth…”
“As you said,” I cut in, smiling through the ache, “there are more pressing matters. You’re right. Best not to linger.”
Johannes stiffened. He understood what I meant—what I was masking.
Still, he managed to compose himself.
I forced a smile once more.
“Really. I’ve thought about it again. Divorce isn’t the answer.”
And with those words, I gave him my hand—not as a symbol of reconciliation, but of duty.
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