Chapter 29 : Shadows Beneath the Silk
Chapter 29
Johannes Schulz is a dangerous man.
The former guardian of Mussen lies in his grave, and his enigmatic son is nothing like the world imagined him to be.
Yet Edward Windsor wouldn’t stop sowing whispers of suspicion in my ear—quiet, venomous doubts that burrowed deeper the more I listened.
Was he simply trying to drive a wedge between Johannes and me? But why?
I hadn’t spent enough time with Johannes to discern lies from truth. My understanding of him was patchy at best—fleeting fragments of his persona.
The son of a disgraced duke, a man whose proposal had been nothing more than a transaction cloaked in sincerity.
‘I don’t truly know anything about him… do I?’
No. I didn’t. Because he rarely revealed himself.
And then—Johannes stormed through the parting in the curtain, his steps slicing through the silence. Without a word, he wrenched the heavy velvet aside, the hooks clattering violently against the rod. The cacophony of the banquet hall rushed in like a wave.
He stood over me, gaze cold, lips drawn into a hard line. Anger etched every corner of his face.
I instinctively took a step back.
“If you were trying to hide, you didn’t try very hard,” he said coolly.
“That’s not—”
I started, then fell silent. He hadn’t touched me, but his presence blocked every route of escape.
“Oh, so you saw it all?” Edward chuckled from the side. “Perhaps I should’ve helped her hide better.”
Johannes didn’t laugh. “Next time, put more effort into being sincere.”
“Then you won’t be able to find her,” Edward added with a careless grin, tapping his cousin’s shoulder.
“Say it to my face or not at all,” Johannes retorted. “Do you still struggle with basic comprehension?”
Edward’s brow twitched.
“Sadly, yes. The older I get, the more I trust my own mind.”
“And still, you speak with the grace of a barnyard pig.”
Johannes had positioned himself like a wall between us. I stared at his broad back, my nerves oddly soothed by his unwavering stance.
Edward Windsor—royal by blood, rival by choice. He’d always treated Duke Schulz with disdain. Yet despite the venom in his words, no one would believe him over Johannes.
Johannes had vowed to honor his role as my husband. And so, I should do the same.
But still—how could Edward so casually try to fracture a bond so new?
“I truly didn’t say anything incriminating,” Edward shrugged. “Just told her you’re a bit sharp-edged. Gave some advice, that’s all. Told her to run while she still could.”
Johannes arched a brow, his voice flat. “I’ve fulfilled my social obligations. My appearance at the wedding should suffice. Mussen isn’t a playground for your royal boredom.”
Edward smirked. “True. Barden is a disaster lately. In comparison, Mussen feels like paradise.”
He gazed around, eyes glinting with mischief.
“Maybe I should move here,” he mused out loud, tilting his head. “Peace like this is rare.”
“Let’s hope no one shatters it,” Johannes murmured, voice like steel beneath silk.
The tension hung thick. I glanced between them, the air sharp as glass.
Clearly, there was history between them—more than I had been told.
Edward broke the silence with a dry laugh. “Ah, a message layered in metaphor.”
“What a shame,” Johannes replied. “I thought I’d already made myself clear, but perhaps comprehension escaped you in my absence.”
“Oh, I understood just fine. It means: ‘Get out of my pristine kingdom.’ But you know me—I’ve never been one to follow orders.”
Whatever Johannes had said, it had hit its mark. Edward’s playful grin faltered. He gave me a wink, half-hearted and strange, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Only then did I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
Johannes turned to me. The cold edge in his eyes softened.
“No matter how rushed our marriage was… I didn’t expect you to flirt with another man on our wedding day.”
“If someone hears that—!” I hissed, glancing around.
“No one’s listening,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t say anything inappropriate,” I insisted.
He frowned. “Is that true?”
“Yes. He just asked how we met. He was… curious, that’s all.”
I thought about telling him the rest, about Edward’s insinuations, but the words caught in my throat.
I didn’t believe Edward—but would it help to stir up tension on such a day?
Such a beautiful day.
I looked out the window.
It truly was beautiful. Since his father’s death, Johannes had seldom appeared in public.
‘It’s a blessing to be married, Edith.’
I tried to count the stars to drown out my father’s voice. But the ache behind my smile betrayed me.
“It’s nothing. Truly,” I murmured.
The rest of the reception passed without incident.
The noblewomen who had gossiped about me now pretended I didn’t exist. But other guests—new faces—approached me with polite curiosity.
Some were cold. Most were cordial. As Sir Fret had said, manners still existed in Mussen.
“The Duchess is quite unlike other commoner-born nobles,” one remarked.
I accepted the words with an unreadable smile. Sincere or not, they had to be acknowledged.
After several greetings and a few glasses of champagne, the tension began to ebb.
I finally found the courage to ask Johannes something that had been nagging at me.
Out on the balcony, I leaned on the railing, letting the night wind tangle in my hair. I gestured for him to light a cigarette.
“Do I really seem well-versed in noble etiquette?”
He glanced at me. “You’re… decent.”
“Really? I thought Sir Fret was just trying to comfort me. That the nobles were only flattering you.”
He didn’t reply. The lighter flared in his hand, illuminating his chiseled features for a fleeting second.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, watching the flame. “Neither my father nor I had ties to aristocracy. How did I learn all this? I’ve never belonged to high society.”
I looked up at the starlit sky. Jewels scattered across velvet black.
As the chill kissed my cheeks, Johannes spoke.
“Why are you so polished?”
I turned to him.
His blue eyes were unreadable—mysterious, shadowed by the dark.
There was something mocking in his gaze, something intimate and teasing.
He looked away again, exhaling a plume of smoke into the silence.
“Maybe he taught you hoping you’d marry well,” I said. “Maybe he wanted me to have a better future.”
I laughed—soft and incredulous.
It didn’t sound like my father.
Isaac Prim believed in romance over riches. He would’ve told me to fall in love, not climb the social ladder.
So why did he teach me court etiquette?
“You’ll never know,” Johannes said.
“…No, I won’t.”
“But in the end, it helped. I used to dread these things. Now, at least, I’m not afraid.”
I smiled up at him.
Above us, the night sky shimmered through our half-filled glasses. I took a sip, starlight melting on my tongue.
Not too sweet. Not too sharp.
I looked at Johannes’ untouched glass, resting precariously on the railing.
“What was your father like in the military?” I asked quietly.
It was a half-thought, tossed on the breeze.
Maybe because marriage changes things. Maybe because I missed mine.
From the moment I learned he died, a part of me had been running. Now, I stopped.
Johannes looked troubled by the question.
“Must I go that deep? Didn’t you say you two were close?”
