Chapter 58 : The Sea Beyond Suspicion
༻❁༺ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟖 — The Sea Beyond Suspicion ༻❁༺
—Where silence brews storms, and fate knocks cloaked in coincidence—
The scent of salt lingered in the air as Johannes Schulz stood by the vast window of the commander’s office, his silhouette etched against the panoramic view of the Baltz Sea.
The horizon, where the navy’s imposing fleet met the delicate silhouettes of distant fishing vessels, painted a portrait of tranquility so absolute, one could almost believe that war had never once scarred these waters.
That sea—serene, crystalline, and vast—shared the same haunting hue as Johannes’ eyes. A deceptive calm. An illusion of peace. One might’ve thought the war truly ended.
But within him, the storm had only just begun.
Just as he raised a cigarette to his lips with weary irony, a hesitant knock scattered his reverie.
“Come in.”
The doorknob paused, uncertain. Then, slowly, the door creaked open, letting in not just the footsteps, but the clamor of the outside world. The air shifted.
Sergeant Lennart entered, newly stripped of his senior stripes, his salute crisp yet overshadowed by a flicker of unease. His voice faltered under the weight of unwelcome news.
“Commander… The belongings of the deceased were newly discovered aboard the Baltic.”
Johannes extinguished the cigarette with a flick, casting it out into the sea breeze. His brows drew together—sharpened, deliberate. A silence fell, heavy and judgmental.
“Whose?” he asked, his voice like tempered steel.
“It is presumed to belong to Sergeant Isaac Prim… The others in the cabin—also dead—require separate confirmation.”
Every word Lennart uttered was a dagger of his own making. For how does one confess to negligence before a commander forged of stone and order?
“Who was responsible?”
“…Sergeant Noah Weber, sir. He has since been relieved of duty.”
A wry, humorless laugh escaped Johannes’ lips. The military court would feast on this.
But instead of fury, he fell into eerie quiet. Lennart straightened, bracing for thunder.
“We’ll inform the bereaved immediately—”
“Leave it,” Johannes cut him off.
“…Sir?”
“I said leave it. I will contact them myself.”
Lennart blinked, as if mishearing. “You heard wrong,” he murmured.
But no—Johannes’ voice returned, steady and final. “I’ll contact the family. You’re dismissed.”
The young sergeant saluted with trembling reverence and left.
Johannes sank into the worn leather of his office chair, his fingers drumming softly against the armrest. He was a man of law, of lines drawn with blood and code. One did not bring unclaimed property into the Duke’s residence.
Which meant… Edith had to come here.
Reaching for the phone, he dialed a number known to him by heart.
“Castle Evanstein,” he said.
Once connected, he spoke calmly: “Tell the Duchess to come to Naval Headquarters immediately. Delegate her duties to Fret Gunner.”
Click.
His gaze wandered back to the sea. Edith Schulz—his wife. Elusive as starlight. Harder to find than a king. And now, summoned not by longing, but by war’s shadow.
I had just returned from a walk with Ahin when I spotted Lord Fret rushing toward me, flustered and breathless.
“Madam! A call from the Navy Headquarters—the Duke urgently seeks your presence.”
“At headquarters? Why?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, my lady. He only asked that you come at once. It sounded… serious.”
“…Understood. I’ll prepare myself.”
Later that morning, I departed not in our usual carriage—it would’ve drawn too many eyes in the crowded port—but in a modest one, barely marked.
We arrived in the heart of the city, and fate, in its fondness for irony, sent me directly into the path of Edward Windsor.
“Ah,” I breathed.
He stepped from his carriage at that precise moment, as if conjured by timing too perfect to be chance. His eyes lit up, and his lips curled into that unnervingly effortless smile.
With the gallantry of a royal, he took my hand and pressed his lips to it.
“To find a treasure such as you in a place like this—isn’t it a glorious coincidence?”
Now, across from me in his carriage, Edward Windsor sat with the ease of a man who owned the world.
His touch still lingered on the back of my hand, unwelcome and soft. I had frowned, but schooled my expression once I noticed his eyes tracing mine.
He had stopped me just before I reached the naval gates, claiming he had something to ask. I could not refuse—not when he wielded the title of prince like a blade hidden in silk.
‘Then, why don’t you ride with me for a moment?’ he had offered.
‘…A married woman should not share a carriage with an unmarried man. It invites… whispers.’
‘Then shall we speak inside the police department? But you are the Duchess. Are you prepared for what the gossips will say?’
‘We can’t talk in the interrogation room, right?’
And just like that, with the illusion of dignity, I found myself in his carriage.
Ahin waited outside as I sat across from Edward in uneasy silence.
‘What is this game?’ I thought, my patience thinning.
Twenty minutes passed. Twenty minutes of silence.
Eventually, I could bear it no longer.
“I’m en route to my husband. If you have something to say, Your Highness, say it now—and briefly.”
Back in his office, Johannes received word that Edith had departed the residence.
He even learned she’d declined the family carriage so as not to attract attention. He nodded once. Logical.
But now—silence. Still no sign of her arrival. Too much time had passed.
Too long.
Where was she?
Just then, a servant slipped silently through the open window—an old routine.
Johannes didn’t flinch.
The servant bowed and reported:
“Sir, she has made contact with Edward Windsor.”
