Chapter 64 : Whispers Beneath the Name
Chapter 64
Johannes gently ran his fingers through my hair, his breath brushing tenderly against my ear.
“I don’t think we’re deliberately forcing them into the roles of husband and wife,” he murmured.
I had no retort. The silence spoke for me—perhaps I had indeed become the architect of my own defeat.
I didn’t know how long he intended to keep this stance, but it was clear he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.
And so, I had no choice but to raise every question circling in my mind.
“Then why did you pretend to be asleep…?”
“I was simply thinking,” he replied, his voice soft.
“What were you thinking about?”
“I believe we need to… deepen our bond.”
His words, spoken gently, unsettled me. I had assumed his thoughts were preoccupied with the recent disappearances. I found myself utterly flustered.
Tilting my head, I asked, “Yes…?”
“It seems,” he said, his tone laced with quiet irritation, “that an annoying intruder has shown up.”
Before I could grasp his meaning, he suddenly shifted the topic.
He asked what I thought would be a good nickname for Castle Evanstein.
“A nickname… for Castle Evanstein?” I echoed, baffled.
What an absurd suggestion. Why on earth would anyone give such a name to a building that looked so hideous from the outside?
I hesitated, unsure how to navigate such a ridiculous turn of conversation.
“So? What’s your answer?”
“…Is this really the time to be worrying about a nickname for the mansion?”
Johannes raised a brow faintly. His expression shifted, displeased by my answer—though I couldn’t comprehend why.
“This is quite important,” he insisted. “Now that some troublesome people are involved, I need a pretext to make our relationship more convincing.”
“A… pretext?”
“It may be connected to this incident,” he said cryptically.
‘If it’s connected, then just say it is. What do you mean may be?’
But I didn’t ask further. Even if he explained, I doubted I’d fully grasp his logic.
So, instead, I voiced a few casual thoughts…
“What do you think of Primwood?”
I never imagined such an absurd question would be asked with such seriousness. It sounded final. Then why bother asking for my opinion?
And at that moment, I had no inkling just how significant that name would become.
“Primwood…?”
I repeated it, confused. Johannes lifted his brows in quiet amusement.
“After you. The castle is in the middle of the woods, after all.”
He spoke with a faint smile, but a chilling sense of déjà vu slithered through me.
I couldn’t recall the details, but I had heard that name before—and not in a good way.
My instincts were usually reliable. Still, I tried to brush the unease aside.
“I’m the one you named it after? But this is still the Schultz family estate. We’re not even married yet… It just feels… too early…”
“Are you saying we’re getting divorced?”
His voice turned dry, cutting me off, his expression stiff.
His extreme way of thinking was jarring, but perhaps not surprising. The situation demanded we remain conscious of public scrutiny. I had spoken too carelessly.
I exhaled, attempting to calm the atmosphere.
“That’s not what I meant. I just think… there’s no rush. Besides, wouldn’t the previous Duke be bewildered to see the estate named after my surname?”
“The opinions of the dead are no longer relevant.”
Heavens. What a cold, dismissive answer. My brows furrowed at the sheer callousness.
“But still…”
“Edith Schultz,” he said, his voice firm.
At the sharp weight in his tone, my body flinched.
I didn’t understand why he clung so tightly to my birth name—but knowing his personality, I also knew better than to fight it.
He would always guide me his way—regardless of how I felt.
“Or we can keep going like this.”
“…All right,” I replied, reluctant.
Only then did Johannes ease his grip, letting me go.
So that was his grand excuse for behaving so strangely—to name the mansion after my last name. I shot him a glare, full of quiet indignation.
And thus… the estate was christened Primwood.
Yet the name unsettled me. Despite its connection to me, there was something disturbingly eerie about it.
I tried to convince myself it was just a passing feeling—but even in bed, the anxiety clung to me like a shadow.
All night, I tossed and turned, unable to shake the unease that coiled around that name.
And as the word Primwood echoed deeper in my mind, the fog of confusion slowly lifted.
Memories surged—swift and unrelenting.
In my previous life…
The Kingdom of Docilia led the railway age.
Mussen—the crown jewel among cities.
Duke Schultz—the man who safeguarded it.
And—
Primwood. Author of The Duke of Schultz.
“…Oh my god. Johannes Schultz.”
My heartbeat staggered, suddenly frantic. My breath caught as a wave of dread crashed through me.
My fingers trembled as I jolted upright in bed.
Why hadn’t I realized it sooner?
There had been warning signs.
Since that one head injury, I’d begun recalling events that had never happened—talking about plants I’d never seen—mentioning details I shouldn’t know.
Johannes had even examined a corpse at the scene of the incident and guessed the time of death. I never read a book on forensics. I never cared about it.
So why hadn’t I suspected anything?
Because—of course—it sounded absurd.
Memories of a past life? What a far-fetched notion.
I was born and raised in Docilia. Ordinary life, ordinary upbringing. Everything was so normal.
Until Johannes entered my life.
And then everything changed—as if some invisible force had rewritten the rules.
I looked over at the man lying next to me, asleep and peaceful.
And then—a line from an article I’d once read flashed through my mind like lightning.
My breath hitched as I stared at him.
‘This is a novel…’
Yes. A novel from my past life.
The details were fuzzy. But the certainty was clear.
My husband—Johannes Schultz—was the male lead of that novel.
As I reflected on the countless stories, references, and characters from my previous life…
There was a chilling possibility: Johannes Schultz could be the very culprit behind the murders and disappearances in Mussen.
But… I couldn’t draw a conclusion so easily.
Yes, the signs all pointed to him—but…
Wasn’t I the one living beside him, knowing him, witnessing him daily?
The confusion pressed down like a heavy cloak. Still, now was not the time to panic.
I took a deep breath, letting my gaze drift slowly around the room in search of grounding.
Soft light poured in from the window, gently illuminating the space. Dawn was near.
It wouldn’t be long before Johannes woke up, so I lay back down, still shaken.
“Ha…”
A soft sigh escaped my lips.
It was impossible to sleep again—with the thought that the murderer from the novel might be lying right beside me.
I stared blankly at Johannes.
So many victims. So many unsolved cases.
Could he truly be the one behind them all?
I didn’t know.
More precisely… I didn’t want to know.
Of course, I had to consider my own safety—but in the end, he was still my husband.
We made vows—promised trust.
And besides…
‘If he wanted to kill me… he would have done it long ago.’
