Chapter 124:The Last Sunrise Before Goodbye
Chapter 124
“I don’t love you. I’m sick of you. You tricked me and now you pretend to protect me? Do you really think that’s love?”
Johannes blinked slowly at Edith’s icy words—words he’d never imagined hearing from her lips. He tried to reach for her, but his limbs refused to move.
His voice stuck in his throat, his mouth unable to form the words he so desperately wanted to say. He could only watch her retreating figure, blurred and distant as if through a veil of mist.
“I want to leave now. There’s no point clinging to feelings that weigh us down. We’re walking different paths, and we won’t understand each other. I can’t keep waiting when you carry so many secrets and refuse to share any of them.”
No—if only this moment could pass, if only he could break free from this paralysis. He struggled to move, to speak, to change the outcome.
“Edith!”
His cry tore through the silence as he jolted upright, a sheen of cold sweat soaking his back, one arm stretched into the emptiness.
It was a dream.
He blinked rapidly, his breath ragged as he turned toward the figure lying beside him.
There she was—Edith, asleep, safe, real.
Johannes closed his eyes and dragged a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. He reached out, fingers trembling, and brushed her cheek. Warm. Soft. Real.
“Uhm…”
Edith stirred, eyes fluttering open to meet his. She reached out to him instinctively, brows knitting in concern.
“You’re drenched in sweat. Did you have a nightmare?”
Her voice, laced with worry, was so tender it cut him deeper than any blade. Johannes squeezed his eyes shut, as if to shield himself from his own guilt.
“Johannes…?”
Her gentle hand rested against his cheek. Despite everything—the walls he built, the wounds he inflicted—she still touched him like this.
For a fleeting moment, all the tension, all the arguments from earlier, dissolved. He chuckled bitterly at his own torment. Perhaps he had been the only one drowning in his thoughts.
“I don’t think it was real,” he murmured.
She tilted her head, sleepy confusion softening her gaze. The way she studied his face with such innocent curiosity nearly unraveled him.
Johannes’ body, tense from the nightmare, slowly loosened beneath her gaze.
Yet his instincts remained maddeningly defiant. Reason, long overtaken by emotion, distorted his thoughts into chaos. From a young age, he had been trained to suppress emotion, to bury irrationality.
And yet here he was, utterly at its mercy.
Brushing damp hair from his forehead, he took a long breath.
Edith reached for his hand, her expression etched with concern.
“What did you dream about? Tell me. Sometimes saying it aloud makes it feel lighter.”
Her voice was a balm, soothing the ragged edges of his fear.
The pain, the disbelief, the loneliness from their earlier quarrel had vanished from her gaze. In its place was the same warmth that had always drawn him in.
He laughed softly, then whispered, “Nothing.”
How could he tell her that he dreamed of her leaving him?
Of course, she would laugh it off. Tell him not to be so melodramatic. That he was worrying over nothing.
But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was a reflection of the fear clawing at his insides. A fear he refused to name.
Edith, mercifully, did not press further. Instead, she shifted the mood gently.
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
Her voice was softer than usual, almost vulnerable.
He blinked. “Tomorrow?”
She nodded, her eyes shimmering like still waters.
Johannes couldn’t look away. He opened his mouth, and the words came without hesitation.
“I won’t be busy if you want me not to be.”
We had quarreled all evening upon returning to the Duke’s residence—or rather, I had.
I fired arrows of accusation and frustration while Johannes absorbed them in silence. Even before sleep, the air between us remained thick and unspoken.
Yet now he sleeps like nothing happened. How does he manage such calm?
Johannes Schulz had buried more secrets than I dared to count. And to live beside a man like that was like drowning in invisible waves—suffocating, maddening.
But this life, I knew, could not go on for much longer.
‘We must negotiate with Edward Windsor.’
Beyond his glittering smile, I alone knew the truth: Edward Windsor was a killer. And I had made him nervous.
‘Then, Your Highness, you must be feeling anxious until then. Even though I thought about it carefully, I couldn’t figure it out, so I don’t know if I’ll open my mouth to someone.’
Yes. That one sentence would keep him awake at night.
As he predicted, an invitation from the royal family would arrive soon. And I would go—alone.
Until that moment, I could not trust anyone. Not even Giltheon, who had approached Ahin so suddenly. There was too much I didn’t know.
If I accepted the invitation, I might never return to this house.
Edward Windsor’s endgame was obvious: use my disappearance to bring down Johannes Schulz.
Yet I would go. To confront the tiger, one must step into the den.
And perhaps—if fate allowed—I would return with his mask torn to shreds.
Still, I could not bring myself to confide in Johannes. Not while the path ahead was so dark.
He had his secrets.
And I now had mine.
Why did I feel the need to throw myself into the fire? Was it my father’s blood, or my mother’s?
Even if I didn’t understand it, I knew I had to act.
At the very least, I would leave Johannes with something. A sliver of truth. A warning, in case I failed.
Just as I turned to him, lost in these thoughts—
“Edith…”
His voice, heavy with anguish, cut through the quiet.
“Don’t go.”
My breath caught. As if he had reached into my soul and pulled my secret to the surface.
Was this love, or fear of loss?
Since our marriage, we had never truly dated. It was always duty, obligation, silence.
But now, knowing what may come, I craved one simple, human thing:
A memory.
A day.
Something warm to carry with me if this was the end.
So I smiled at him gently.
“If you’re not busy, let’s go on a date tomorrow. Just something ordinary.”
Even though he was dreaming, I wanted to make that dream a little sweeter.
Even if tomorrow would be our last.
