Chapter 25 : Kissed by Duty, Bound by Shadows
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Chapter 25
I could not tell whether the archbishop was irritated by the delay, or simply loathed the idea of presiding over our wedding. But regardless, his sharp, disapproving glares kept stabbing through me like icicles dipped in disdain.
His voice, gravelly and metallic as if laced with powdered iron, pierced the silence:
“…With this, the engagement is concluded. As man and wife, you shall now exchange rings and seal your vows with a kiss.”
A kiss.
At that one word, cold sweat broke over my skin.
We hadn’t kissed since that day.
And even that couldn’t quite be called our first kiss. It was too fleeting, too loaded with ambiguity. Not tender. Not full. Not real.
I stood frozen.
Johannes, ever composed, took my hand and raised it gently. With a grace that felt ceremonial, he slid the ring onto my finger.
When I returned the gesture, placing the ring on his hand, my gaze floated upward to meet his. He wore an unreadable expression—a calm that made the world feel like a stage.
“Even if we’re reluctant,” he murmured, “let’s not run away today.”
I hadn’t time to ponder what he meant before he tilted my chin with a firm but gentle hand, angling my face towards his—and then, his lips met mine.
The cathedral gasped.
It was a kiss deeper than our last, yet no less fleeting. I didn’t even manage to close my eyes before it ended.
The archbishop coughed, clearly uncomfortable.
“All things will bless you as husband and wife.”
His tone held no warmth, no grace. Merely duty.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Words floated around me, vague and hollow. I had taken the name Schulz, received the duties of a duchess, sworn loyalty. Yet my mind remained tangled in the ghost of a kiss.
I looked at Johannes—serene, detached, unreadable.
Had I looked unwilling?
Lord Fret once said that it was unthinkable for the royal family to neglect offering congratulations at a noble’s wedding—especially one with ancestral ties to the kingdom’s founding.
That is how royalty honors noble bloodlines.
‘All flowers and decorations, funded by the royal family. Precious metals, jewels, luxurious gifts—it’s a message of status.’
‘So it’s like laying a path of roses for the bride?’
‘Exactly. The quantity and quality of the florals say everything.’
But what lay before me was a farce.
The reception was paltry.
A humiliation.
The whispers were loud enough to scrape the air:
“So that’s what happens when you challenge the throne.”
Envy poisoned every word. The Shultz family had once stood at the pinnacle of power. And those at the bottom always cheer when the mighty fall.
Even the king’s absence spoke volumes.
Tradition dictated that the crown prince or princess attend Schulz family weddings. Yet now, the only royal present was Edward.
The official excuse was flimsy: the bride’s commoner status. But everyone knew.
This was no oversight—it was punishment.
Front page headlines by morning, I thought bitterly.
My eyes returned to Johannes. He stood proud in his tailored tailcoat, his golden hair catching the chandelier’s gleam. He looked—glorious. Untouchable. Unshaken.
Doesn’t he feel it? This insult?
Yet he met only my gaze, eyes soft, as if nothing else existed.
“Madam,” he murmured, offering his hand.
I hesitated, then glanced around us.
The stares were daggers.
If I so much as flinched, they would say I didn’t love him.
“Johannes,” I whispered, and smiled.
The moment our hands touched, he pulled me close.
Warmth. Steel. Breath against my forehead. I tensed.
“If we’re to play the part,” he whispered, “let’s do it well.”
“……”
“Didn’t you vow to adapt to this world? Where’s that fire now, Duchess?”
He slid his hand into my hair, caressing it softly. Then he bent, whispering near my ear.
“Are you always this easy to read?”
His breath was warm. The music swelled.
I exhaled slowly, lifted my eyes—and played the role.
I clutched his shoulder, eyes wide with feigned adoration.
“That’s right,” I whispered.
My voice quivered—like a shy bride intoxicated by love.
“I was just startled… he appeared so suddenly. I’ll stay focused.”
His hand paused against my back.
Then came a quiet, velvet chuckle.
“You’re good.”
To any onlooker, it looked like the soft murmurings of lovers.
Johannes led effortlessly—calm, fluid, practiced. I let myself be carried by his rhythm.
Now and then, his eyes would narrow with mock passion, and I’d answer with flushed cheeks and careful glances.
We looked real.
Too real.
Then I noticed Edward across the room, lifting his champagne with an amused smirk.
The tension returned.
“…The Prince of Windsor is watching us.”
“I know.”
He wasn’t subtle.
“You think he suspects?”
“Of course. They all do.”
This rushed wedding, the single kiss, the picture-perfect poses—it wasn’t enough.
“Maybe we should be more convincing,” I said quietly. “Should I kiss you again?”
His eyes flicked down to mine.
“Will you be alright?”
“Yes. That’s my duty now. And it’s not like it’s the first time….”
His mouth twisted.
“Duty,” he echoed. “You say it like you could do this with anyone.”
“…That’s not what I meant.”
My fingers tightened on his shoulder.
“I mean—I’ve never imagined doing this with anyone else. Not really. I wouldn’t know.”
Neither yes nor no. A safe ambiguity.
He chuckled, lips close enough to brush mine.
“Don’t imagine it. It won’t happen.”
He stopped moving. Then, with a steady hand, he lifted my chin.
His lips descended again.
But this kiss was different.
It wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t gentle.
It was deep. Commanding. Possessive.
When he pulled away, his voice dropped like velvet steel:
“I won’t pretend anymore.”
His words clung to my skin.
Calculated? Or real?
My face was flushed, eyes shimmering.
A perfect illusion.
Across the room, Edward raised a brow.
Did we convince him?
We’d soon find out.
“Well,” I murmured. “If that’s how you kiss, I suppose I’d better not let any other man even think about it.”
Johannes’ eyes glittered like ice in candlelight. I tightened my hold around his neck.
And the music played on.
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