Chapter 138 : Schemes Beneath the Smoke
That very moment, as Johannes and I turned our eyes toward the origin of the explosion,
a series of detonations erupted throughout the streets. Panic-stricken screams reverberated in every direction.
“Damn it… was this all just a distraction?”
Johannes swore under his breath. Even he seemed caught off guard, his voice betraying a faint tremor.
I gripped his hand tightly, my face drained of all color.
My ears, unaccustomed to such deafening noise, rang unbearably. My legs collapsed beneath me as the shock overtook my senses. Through the choking haze, countless feet trampled past in a frenzied attempt to flee.
Time blurred. It must have been only moments, yet felt like an eternity before my mind could steady itself.
Then came Johannes’ voice, urgent and close.
“…Edith!”
My heart pounded like a war drum. I raised my trembling gaze to meet his. He clasped my hand tightly, lifting me to my feet with firm resolve.
Only when I was struck by a fleeing passerby and pain shot through my shoulder did I realize Johannes had steadied me.
I slowly scanned our surroundings. Though mere seconds had passed, the scene was already devastated.
Shattered stalls, discarded belongings, wounded bodies strewn about in pools of red…
Smoke billowed from the epicenter of the blast. It looked like a battlefield torn from history.
“Unbelievable… What in the world is happening…”
As my thoughts swirled, Johannes removed my mask and began to speak, his azure eyes sharp amid the wreckage.
“Edith, listen closely. The one behind this… it may be Edward Windsor.”
“Yes, there’s no one else who would orchestrate something this monstrous. And yet, he’ll likely shift the blame elsewhere.”
“Windsor intends to lay this catastrophe at the Schultz family’s feet. As deranged as he is, I never imagined he’d cross this line.”
Johannes had previously noted Edward’s inaction, and perhaps foolishly assumed he wouldn’t risk harming himself in the process.
He stepped cautiously toward the explosion site. Alarmed, I tried to stop him—but to no avail.
“It looks like the explosives have all gone off.”
He surveyed the scene carefully, inspecting the residue and inhaling the lingering scent of smoke. His expression grew grim.
“It’s undoubtedly Windsor. He left his signature by deliberately avoiding homemade powder.”
Edward had ensured Johannes would recognize his involvement.
With the police under his influence and the use of standardized gunpowder, he had crafted a narrative that could easily be redirected—
perhaps blaming foreign agitators for this orchestrated mayhem.
Yet, amid all the possibilities, one persistent question clung to my mind. I turned to Johannes, who remained tense and silent.
“So where is Prince Windsor now? If a tragedy like this unfolds, he ought to show himself.”
“He should be at Barden Castle by now. Christine Ahn…”
Johannes furrowed his brows mid-thought. As though struck by sudden realization, he ran a hand down his face.
“Damn it. Was that the key piece in all of this?”
He murmured something inaudible to himself.
Seeing Johannes so visibly unsettled was still foreign to me. I reached for his wrist.
“We should get away from here first—”
“This is important. Listen to me carefully.”
He cut me off, ushering me deeper into a narrow alleyway. From behind him, I caught another glimpse of the chaos beyond.
But what came next was even more jarring.
“I plan to let them capture me.”
“…What?”
I clung tighter to his arm, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words.
He spoke again, calm despite the absurdity.
“I’ve figured out what Windsor is plotting.”
Then he laid bare Edward Windsor’s strategy.
Edward’s intent was to implicate both the Schultz family and the royal lineage, building a stepping stone for his own claim to power.
He had designed this entire scheme with the belief that Johannes would swiftly uncover his motives.
So, the plan included taking one of us hostage—to silence our response and force the other into inaction.
He would be discovered anyway, so he intended to divert attention directly to himself.
“If one of us doesn’t step into Windsor’s trap, it will be seen as Schultz’s fault. And…”
No thought was spared for the family’s reputation in the aftermath.
“Windsor knew I’d make this decision.”
Because Johannes would choose the family over himself. But—
“No.”
I shook my head, resolve hardening in my voice.
“We both know the real target is me, not you.”
Even if I were to remain free, I wouldn’t be able to resolve this. I needed to walk forward—on my own.
I drew in a deep breath.
“I must go.”
“What a clever woman.”
Edward Windsor muttered irritably, watching old Mrs. Russell retreat calmly from view.
Only when her figure vanished from the window did he shift his focus. He signaled toward Frederick Müller, who had been tending Christian’s estate garden of late.
“What’s the current situation with Christian Windsor?”
Frederick stood upright, seeming even more frail than before, and answered expressionlessly.
“Routine as always. I’ve observed nothing of note.”
“…Really? So she hasn’t caught on to today’s events either?”
“Correct. In truth, she pays no mind to Prince Windsor.”
Edward’s lips twisted faintly, though his face remained carefully neutral.
“Patience is required to capture a lion. She’s sharp. Likely suspicious of you.”
“I doubt it.”
Frederick’s quick reply sharpened Edward’s gaze.
“Impossible. You simply haven’t realized it yet. Is it not true that Her Highness, our radiant and regal Crown Princess, also conceals secrets within secrets?”
Edward trusted Christian implicitly, unaware that Frederick had resolved never to expose her truths.
“I’ll wait until I return to Mussen.”
“Just remember this—of all people, I’m the one who trusts you most. Now, go.”
A slight crease formed between Frederick’s brows.
He knew nothing of Christian Windsor, and despite the pang of sympathy he felt, he also found it faintly absurd.
But it ended there. Allowing more sentiment would serve neither Christian nor himself.
Frederick offered a brief bow and exited the drawing room.
“Tsk. Tiresome.”
Slumping back into his leather chair, Edward recalled his earlier exchange with old Mrs. Russell—tense and curiously unsatisfying.
‘Would she truly go that far? That a request so trivial to me could grant her something she’s long pursued…’
Old Mrs. Russell hadn’t even tried to mask her astonishment.
Naturally so. For Edward Windsor to grant so easily what was once out of reach, and all under the guise of a jest—it defied logic.
But…
‘I know what that prank carries with it.’
‘…What does it carry?’
‘I’ll gain more than what I give. I never wager on frivolous stakes.’
He refrained from elaborating. Let old Mrs. Russell reflect on it; surprises would soon follow.
‘I won’t detain the Duchess for long. I can’t prevent her from reaching out directly.’
‘Of course not. I only ask for old Mrs. Russell’s cooperation—briefly, nothing more.’
And what he stood to receive in return? Considerable.
Edward whispered, lost in thought once more.
“Still, how refreshing it is to have a new game at hand.”
His icy-blue eyes gazed far past the windowpane.
“It should’ve begun by now.”
His lips curled with anticipation.
This affair would soon escalate into a royal scandal beyond any local officer’s control.
How deeply would Christian be drawn into this? How would she weather the storm, and how would that poised, glacial expression begin to falter?
And finally—
Would the prized toy, so delicately wrapped, walk right into his waiting hands?
The morning had never held such promise.
