Chapter 119 : The Devil Behind the Smile
✦❖ Chapter 119 ❖✦
“The Devil Behind the Smile”
“So then… tell me. Why did you bring me here?”
A bitter smirk curved Edward’s lips—one that held no fear, no guilt, only wicked amusement. It was so calm, I nearly laughed aloud at the sheer absurdity of his composure.
“I was summoned here by His Royal Highness, was I not?”
His voice slithered through the dim air of the warehouse, heavy and deliberate.
“A quiet, sealed-off place like this… doesn’t it seem perfect for a private conversation between a man and a woman?”
What exactly are you scheming…?
I shifted my gaze to the thick wooden door behind him. From its narrow gap, faint voices echoed from beyond—remnants of the crowd just outside.
If I opened that door, I could flee into the light. Johannes wasn’t far. Nothing dire would happen… not unless Edward Windsor was mad enough to stake everything.
And yet, I had no intention of underestimating his madness.
Edward followed my gaze, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.
“Even an art museum is not immune to noise on its grand opening night. I hope you’ll pardon the setting, Duchess.”
“…It’s fine,” I murmured coldly.
I had no idea what he was truly after. But I knew he wasn’t here for pleasantries.
As though reading my unease, Edward studied me intently—his dark eyes raking over every twitch, every breath.
His gaze was hunting something: fear, suspicion, weakness.
I steadied myself. The cold steel of the revolver hidden beneath my skirts was a small comfort.
“Didn’t you say you had something important to tell me?” I asked.
At that, his brows twitched ever so slightly.
“I have much to say. But it seemed the Duchess herself might have more to reveal. I’ve been waiting.”
I inhaled slowly.
So that was it. He had seen me at the tavern. He’d heard the name I had whispered—Johannes.
Now he wanted to know: did I still suspect my husband? Or had my suspicions turned elsewhere?
Assuming, of course, that Edward was the killer.
I chose my next words carefully, wrapping them in nonchalance.
“His Royal Highness sought me out? How flattering. I suppose this entire exhibition was merely a pretext to summon me here.”
A soft chuckle escaped him. When I frowned, Edward stepped closer, uncrossing his arms with predatory ease.
“You flatter yourself too much, Duchess.”
“Fortunately for me, someone always does,” I replied coolly.
His mouth twisted at that, but his eerie, glacier-gray eyes never left mine.
They shimmered between blue and silver in the darkness, like the surface of a blade.
A familiar chill swept over me.
It was the same look I’d seen in the tavern.
The same cold gaze I remembered from the murder scene.
There was no doubt now.
Edward Windsor was the killer.
The realization struck like thunder—loud, undeniable, and terrifying.
He had brought me here not to learn, but to confirm.
Not to intimidate, but to reveal.
He wanted Edith Schultz to know exactly who he was.
My spine stiffened, but I clung to my composure with desperate strength.
“I heard you and the Duke shared some… private time recently,” Edward said, voice oiled with mockery. “Care to explain why, Duchess? I lost sleep pondering it.”
“Surely the papers reported everything, didn’t they?”
“Oh, they did. But I suspect there’s more. Perhaps your marriage lacks trust, and you sought to restore it. Nobles lie to the media all the time.”
His gaze sharpened.
“A pity, truly. I was this close to removing Johannes altogether.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Your Highness. Are you sure you haven’t mistaken me for someone else?”
His smile deepened.
“On the contrary. Judging by your face, I’ve chosen well. Tell me—aren’t you aware of my… private inclinations?”
I froze.
He had planned this. Whether or not I knew the truth, he intended to tell me.
Edward Windsor had decided to strip off his mask—right here, right now.
“Your expression confirms it,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Still, you might be confused. So allow me to clarify.”
He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear.
“I am the one everyone’s been hunting. I am the killer.”
The words slammed into me like ice water.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
My lips pressed tightly together, my entire body bristling with the instinct to fight or flee.
“Consider this a warning,” Edward hissed.
“Don’t think for a moment that I or the royal family are silent out of fear of the Schultz name. At times, I wonder whether you’re clever or simply foolish.”
He clicked his tongue with a sound of disdain.
“We’ve already investigated your allies. Small circle, fewer complications. It made things easier.”
“What—?”
“I’ll only say this once, so engrave it in your soul. Every word I speak is worth more than your breath.”
His smile widened. In that instant, he no longer resembled a prince—only a madman reveling in his secrets.
Then he cupped the back of my head, and leaned in again, his voice a venomous whisper.
“Do you know why Isaac Prim died such a meaningless death? Because he saw what he shouldn’t, and spoke when he should’ve been silent.”
Everything went blank.
He—he was the one.
The one who murdered my father.
Though I knew he had survived… the truth still burned.
We had only been lucky. That’s all.
My gaze faltered toward his grinning face.
There was no remorse. No shame.
Only delight.
“Do you know what your father said to me?”
“…”
“He begged. Promised silence. So I spared him… out of mercy.”
“…”
“Shall I describe it in detail?”
Madness danced in his eyes.
I wanted to cover my ears.
To run.
But I knew it was futile.
“That day… my hands trembled. I hadn’t hesitated in so long. But it was on a ship, and there were only men. It didn’t matter. I had to kill with my own hands.”
His tone was calm. Detached. As though recalling the death of a fly.
“Then a fool begged. Said he’d keep the secret till death. He looked pathetic, but amusing. So I let him go.”
Even so… you still tried to kill him again.
The thought made my hands tremble. He noticed—and smiled wider.
“Listen carefully.”
Edward narrowed his eyes.
“Yes, I let him live. But I didn’t promise a painless life. I could’ve told the Schultz family anytime. He knew it. So, he took a drug meant only for women.”
“…”
“He broke his silence. He got close to Johannes. I had to increase the dosage. His last expression was… exquisite. My best masterpiece.”
He stepped back and watched me, tilting his head like a curious animal.
The man before me was a ghost in human skin.
Every ounce of his charm was nothing but a lie.
And he was happy.
Genuinely happy.
I could barely breathe.
But I looked him dead in the eyes and said coldly—
“How poetic. Shall I sob now? Is that what you want?”
To my surprise, my voice didn’t shake.
Edward blinked.
“What?”
“You parade my father’s suffering like a trophy, hoping to shatter me. But you’ve failed.”
Because my father lives.
And that truth gave me strength.
“If this was all a game to humiliate me… you’ve lost.”
For a brief second, Edward seemed surprised. But he recovered, shrugging nonchalantly.
Then he drew a pistol from his waist and aimed it at me.
The sharp click echoed, even through the noise outside.
“Ah… such bravery, on such a beautiful face. I expected tears.”
My pulse spiked, but I forced clarity.
“Going to kill me now? What excuse will you give?”
“Plenty. Perhaps that Johannes used you to assassinate me.”
There was no life in his eyes. He was simply toying with me.
Then he did something unexpected.
He held the gun out to me.
“Here. A gift. Kill me, Edith. Become a hero.”
He grabbed my hand, placing the weapon firmly in my palm.
“Pull the trigger. End it. Of course, you’ll be executed for royal murder. But wouldn’t it be poetic?”
The gun felt… wrong.
Too light.
A real pistol with live rounds should be heavier.
My father had told me so himself.
There were no bullets in this weapon.
This was a performance. A trap. A humiliation.
A test.
Would I pull the trigger and regret it forever?
I looked down at the gun. My hands curled around it.
Then I said softly:
“…Do you think I won’t?”
I took a deep breath—then pulled the trigger.
Click.
No shot.
I didn’t hesitate. I pulled again.
Click. Click.
Still nothing.
Edward began to laugh—loud, manic, uncontrolled. He clutched his stomach, breathless from amusement.
He thought I had lost.
But I kept pulling the trigger. Over and over again.
Let him think I was consumed. Let him believe I had broken.
Then, at last, his laughter died.
He looked at me with a face gone still and cold.
And whispered—
“…I didn’t think you’d actually pull it.”
