Chapter 125 : The Masked Bloom of Farewell

❖ Chapter 125 ❖

The Duke’s residence stirred with a quiet kind of frenzy that morning, as if the walls themselves sensed something momentous. Though the day held no special ceremony, the atmosphere buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity.

“Madam… I-I have something to confess.”

It was Ahin, who hadn’t shown her face all morning. Her voice trembled, her eyes already moist.

“I was just about to look for you,” I replied, already suspecting what she wanted to say.

Taking her gently by the wrist, I led her into the privacy of the study. There, away from prying eyes, Ahin’s tears spilled freely. I said nothing, only stood beside her, grasping her hand firmly in mine until her sobs began to subside.

“I thought… I thought you would doubt me,” she whispered.

“Of course not. Yesterday was overwhelming for both of us. I sensed something was wrong, but didn’t want to push you. Clearly, you were deceived.”

“…It was him. The man who gave me the note I delivered to you.”

“Are you certain?”

Ahin nodded with fierce determination.

So, it was Giltheon. Had he betrayed his father? The man worshiped gold, so the possibility of him siding with Edward couldn’t be dismissed.

Still, I set such speculations aside for now. I smiled softly and said, “Ahin, it would be best for you to remain within the estate for a while. He might attempt to approach you again. Thank you for telling me.”

Her face fell slightly—she must have misunderstood, thinking I meant to cast her aside. But she recovered quickly and offered a hesitant smile.

“By the way, today is Mussen’s Spring Festival. I heard you’re going out with the Duke….”

“Hmm? Did you?”

She gestured subtly toward the newspaper on the desk. Johannes must have read it earlier.

‘Will Mussen’s Spring Festival, held amid blooming flowers, rejuvenate a city wearied by strife?’

‘Newly appointed Police Chief Edward Windsor pledges heightened security for the festivities.’

‘In the wake of recent scandals, how far will House Schultz fall?’

The front page was a battleground of ink—lavish praise for Edward, veiled jabs at Johannes, and my name nestled firmly in the crossfire. Still, the public’s anticipation for the Spring Festival outshined the intrigue surrounding our family.

“I suppose the season has arrived,” I murmured.

Had I realized the festival coincided with our outing, I might’ve reconsidered. Being seen in public was… inconvenient.

Outside, the trees were ablaze with blossoms, and petals fell like soft rain with every breeze. Ahin explained how the festival had been scaled up, an effort to lift the spirits of a weary city.

I could only hope Edward Windsor wouldn’t dare something reckless with so many eyes upon him. Even he wouldn’t commit murder amidst the merriment.

Ahin, sensing my thoughts, added, “The Duke told me to prepare everything with extra care today.”

Seeing her rally with such seriousness, I smiled inwardly. Perhaps I would allow her a short outing later, when it was safer. For now, there was little time to spare.

It took me a while to gather myself and approach Johannes’ office. When I finally knocked and entered, his solemn expression softened at the sight of me. Still, a trace of deep thought lingered in his furrowed brow.

“Edith,” he greeted, his voice gentle.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to choose a mask that suits you.”

I followed his gaze to the desk where two ornate masks lay. I raised a brow.

“A mask?”

“For the festival. I can’t decide which one complements me best.”

I tilted my head. To my eyes, the masks were nearly identical. Was this truly worth deliberation?

I was about to tease him when his hand, large and warm, cupped my cheek. Surprised, I took a step back, but his other hand caught my wrist and gently pulled me closer.

My breath hitched.

Without a word, Johannes buried his face in the curve of my neck. Silken strands of hair brushed against my bare skin, followed by a sigh that trembled with emotion.

He didn’t speak. He simply held me, and I let him.

“Edith… Edith.”

My name left his lips again and again. Finally, he lifted his head. Sad blue eyes, brimming with something unspoken, met mine.

“…What is it?” I asked, against my better judgment.

His lips curved into a rueful smile. “Nothing.”

But I remembered his dream. ‘Edith, don’t go.’

Though he didn’t say it aloud, I sensed he, too, had begun to anticipate the inevitable.

In response, Johannes erased the bitterness from his face and donned a charming, practiced smile.

“I can’t decide between these two masks.”

His voice turned playful, teasing.

“So many worries in one morning,” I said, smiling back.

I decided not to dwell on the unspoken sorrow between us. Today, I would treat him as any woman might treat the man she loved.

He finally chose a butterfly-shaped mask that matched my dress perfectly. In Mussen’s Spring Festival, it was tradition to wear masks and dress as historical figures. Officially, it was to blur class lines—unofficially, it reinforced them.

Still, Johannes and I had no need for pretense. We simply dressed as ourselves.

When he donned his mask—half of his striking face hidden—his allure only deepened. I blushed, unable to look away.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

“Are you saying I look better with my face covered?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. But the mask highlights your beauty even more.”

I turned away with a soft huff, pretending not to care.

Outside, the carriage was waiting. As Johannes helped me in, he suddenly spoke:

“What if—”

“Yes?”

He faltered. His eyes flickered, then closed. When they opened again, the question had vanished.

“…Never mind.”

I stepped into the carriage, a strange unease curling in my chest.