Chapter 110: Through the Veil of Silence

Chapter 110: Through the Veil of Silence

There was no conversation between Johannes and me from the moment we left Herzburg until we reached Büttenburg Station. Silence reigned between us like a fog too thick to pierce, thick with unspoken apologies and simmering hurt.

We chose not to take the train, wary of being followed. Only Giltheon, my father, and perhaps Sir Fret were privy to our location. Instead, we opted for a carriage. But even in Büttenburg, a place not graced with many travelers, there was only one carriage waiting at the station.

“We would prefer a less crowded route, if you please,” Johannes said as he handed over a pouch of coins to the driver, who bent low in deference.

“No trouble at all. I shall see to your comfort and safety,” the driver replied, his voice oddly familiar. As he straightened, the brim of his well-worn hat cast a shadow over his eyes, but something about his gaze struck a chord of unease within me.

“I’ll check the carriage,” he added. “Nobles deserve perfection, after all.”

When he vanished, an awkward stillness reclaimed the space between us. I watched Johannes from the corner of my eye, catching him mid-motion, brushing back a strand of hair. Our eyes met, briefly, before I turned away.

Soon, the coachman returned, his tone pleasant. “The carriage is old, but I’ve added duck-down cushions for comfort. Do let me know if anything’s amiss.”

Johannes’ eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the man. “Take off your hat,” he said evenly.

“Pardon?”

“Does that request require further payment?”

“…Certainly not. I’m not mad enough to charge for that.”

“Then indulge me.”

The driver hesitated, then slowly removed his hat. The left side of his face was marred—skin raw and peeling. Johannes didn’t flinch.

“Your cheek. The skin’s torn.”

“Ah, yes. An old affliction. I can cover it if it disturbs you.”

“No need,” Johannes replied, withdrawing his hand with a nod of apology.

The driver smiled thinly, unoffended. “I’ve grown used to suspicion.”

Only then, reassured of his honesty, did we enter the carriage. The wheels pressed into the earth, and we began our slow journey back to Mussen.

I watched the passing scenery, thoughts unraveling.

“Was it Giltheon?” I asked suddenly.

“No,” Johannes murmured. “The voice, gait—nothing matched. But caution never hurts.”

“If it had been him…?”

“I’d have broken his neck.”

There was no jest in his tone. My hands instinctively clenched in my lap.

“As soon as we arrive,” I said quietly, “I’ll look into my father’s whereabouts. And I’ll visit Old Mrs. Russell.”

Johannes opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

“This isn’t for you. I’ll need her help—for my father’s safety.”

His silence said everything. He knew I was right.

“She may not be easy to sway, but… I think I understand why she resents commoners so much.”

Pride. Legacy. A deep disdain for those deemed unworthy.

My mother, Candace Prim, was a commoner. My father, surely, defied Old Mrs. Russell’s wishes when he married her. And for that, perhaps, they severed ties.

Yet, part of me wondered—was the old lady’s pride now shielding her sorrow?

Johannes interrupted my reverie. “Don’t expect too much.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. “No one knows how they’ll feel when they finally meet someone who carries the voice of memory.”

“You don’t have to go through with it if it will hurt you,” he said.

For a moment, I was stunned by his gentleness. It was unexpected.

The carriage rolled toward Mussen, the gates of destiny drawing near.

“When we return,” I said as we approached the estate’s threshold, “you must hold Marquis Russell accountable for my disappearance. With your presence off the train, it’s time to apply pressure.”

Johannes nodded, his gaze solemn.

“I’ll let the public believe the disturbance was your doing. We can use their gratitude as leverage.”

And when the time is right, I’ll reveal the truth—that I am blood of the Russells.

The carriage slowed and came to a gentle stop. As Johannes helped me alight, a voice rang out.

“Lady!”

It was Ahin, rushing toward me.

And with that call, the delicate stillness shattered once more.