Chapter 77 : 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐫
✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕𝟕 ✦
❝𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐫❞
⟪𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒍.⟫
𓆩⟡𓆪───────𖤐───────𓆩⟡𓆪
At Edward’s playful remark, the faint smile that had danced upon Old Mrs. Russell’s lips froze into an expression of distaste.
“…You always speak so rudely. Just because two people share the same eye color doesn’t make them alike.”
Then she launched into an elaborate defense of her lineage, praising the “distinguished traits” of the Russell bloodline. The implication that she could possibly resemble a mere commoner? Insulting beyond words.
Trust me, old lady, I thought silently, I’m no more pleased by the comparison than you are.
Had she seen the effort it took not to roll my eyes, perhaps she would’ve fainted on the spot.
“I see you have brown hair and green eyes,” Johannes murmured, a rare smirk playing at his lips. “Why make such a fuss?”
The comment, light and offhanded, hit its mark.
“It’s common, but the Russell green is exquisite!” she huffed. “Honestly! Duke Schultz truly has no taste for beauty. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”
Edward, ever the jester, played along. “Indeed. I’ve never had an eye for such things. Even as a child, Johannes and I were complete opposites.”
As the two men exchanged stories of their youth—tales unfamiliar to me—I sat in polite silence, my smile strained.
That was when Johannes, seated so composedly beside me, suddenly interjected:
“There’s something I must correct.”
“…Yes?” Edward turned his gaze curiously.
“My wife,” Johannes said without a flicker of hesitation, “is far too beautiful for me to be indifferent to beauty.”
Silence fell like a velvet curtain.
Even I blinked, startled by the sudden, casual boldness of the declaration. A confession spoken so plainly, in front of them all.
Edward raised his brow. “…It seems Duke Schultz is quite fond of his wife.”
“I think so too,” he added with an almost begrudging nod, as if the sincerity of Johannes’s words had caught him off guard.
Was this part of some grand strategy? Had Johannes sensed suspicion brewing, and decided to dispel it with this theatrical affection?
If so… it was working.
Old Mrs. Russell cleared her throat. “Why are you standing around like that? Please, sit.”
And so, by her invitation, we all found ourselves seated together—one table, four wary souls.
Soon, by Edward’s signal, the mansion staff brought forth an array of desserts. A whimsical coincidence: both Old Mrs. Russell and I paused at the same dish.
“I don’t like carrots,” she declared.
“I don’t like carrots either,” I said at the same instant.
Our eyes met. The air stilled. Edward’s grin widened like a child discovering a secret.
“Even your taste is the same,” he teased. “Old lady, perhaps your hatred stems from recognizing yourself in her. Maybe you’re more alike than blood.”
“Please! Spare me such nonsense,” she snapped. “What resemblance are you speaking of, Won?”
“The way you both smile when saying exactly what you mean. It’s unnerving.”
“Her! I’ve never seen someone so outrageous as the Duchess. Bold, sharp-tongued, with not a moment’s pause between thoughts! Then she pretends to honor me. Isn’t that right, dear madam?”
Her words were cutting—but there was no venom behind them. The ice had begun to thaw.
Could this… be progress?
“That can’t be true,” I replied lightly.
Their conversation spiraled endlessly after that. Edward and the old lady exchanged stories and jabs with increasing liveliness, while Johannes and I wore matching expressions of polite boredom, hiding it beneath stiff smiles.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Old Mrs. Russell let out a sigh.
“My, we’ve wasted too much time. And here I was thinking you were still newlyweds.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally noticed,” Johannes muttered, his voice like ice.
Surprisingly, Old Mrs. Russell didn’t bite back.
“I should take my leave. Shouldn’t His Highness go attend to the rest of his guests?”
She cast a pointed glance at Edward.
“Should I?” he asked with a mischievous smile, as if sensing her unspoken intent.
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✦───────𓆩⟡𓆪
Once they had left, only Johannes and I remained at the table.
I sighed, tapping my fingers on the wood, and he turned to me calmly.
“What’s troubling you?”
The question was asked so serenely—so innocently—that I almost laughed.
I narrowed my eyes. “I heard from Old Mrs. Russell that I supposedly have remarkable aptitude for business. Care to explain how that rumor got started?”
Johannes’s expression didn’t waver.
“I simply thought this was the perfect time for you to start considering it seriously.”
“…You don’t mean that you actually don’t have a business plan in mind, right?”
He gave me a look so unreadable, so maddeningly neutral, that dread crept up my spine.
“You can always come up with one.”
I gaped at him. “…You’re serious.”
Johannes shrugged. “I have no doubt my wife will conceive something brilliant.”
Where his faith came from, I had no idea. But the confidence in his tone made it feel… strangely real.
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✧───────𓆩⟡𓆪
“Everyone must have waited a long time.”
Edward’s voice echoed across the ballroom as the music came to a soft halt.
“The Eden Blanc Garden awaits,” he announced.
A murmur of excitement spread among the noble ladies.
Eden Blanc—a rare treasure, usually reserved for those blessed by Crown Princess Christian herself. During this soirée, Edward would personally present it to those he favored.
It was more than a flower. It was a mark of recognition—an emblem of royal favor.
“I shall guide you myself.”
On the path to the garden, ornate lanterns lit the way, casting golden light across pebbled ground.
Though it lacked the grandeur of the capital’s Castle Barberine, the garden had a magic of its own. Under the gaslamps, the pale green Eden Blanc roses shimmered like moonlit jade.
In my past life, no science could birth green roses naturally. They had to be dyed, post-harvest. Yet here… they bloomed as if touched by fairy-tale alchemy.
Perhaps that’s the power of fiction.
As I pondered this, Edward stepped forward and plucked a single stem.
“I’d like to offer this to the Duchess.”
“…To me?”
It wasn’t just symbolic.
It was political.
To refuse the Eden Blanc might be perceived as snubbing royal favor—a declaration of hostility toward House Windsor.
Dozens of noblewomen looked on with narrowed eyes. Jealousy danced behind their fans.
The scent was rich—heady. Too strong, almost unnatural.
Marilyn had once told me how much she longed to see one. At least now, I had something to bring her.
I took the flower.
The others wandered off, examining the rest of the garden, but Edward and I remained.
I brought the rose closer.
Sniff…
‘Hmm…?’
There—beneath the perfume of petals—was a whisper of something chemical. Subtle, but unmistakable. The kind of scent only detectable by someone long acquainted with such substances.
It matched what I’d smelled earlier on Frederick, the gardener.
That fertilizer again…?
But fertilizer shouldn’t affect the scent of the flower.
I frowned. Something didn’t add up.
“Is this due to a special fertilizer?” I asked, watching Edward. “I’ve heard Eden Blanc blooms all year—perhaps this scent is a side effect?”
His smile faltered.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied smoothly. “Frederick handles those things.”
I gave a slow nod, pretending to be unconcerned.
But as I wandered deeper into the garden, I noticed a spot—rough, disturbed earth, as if something had recently been buried or unearthed.
I tilted my head.
“…What’s over there?”
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✦ 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… ✦───────𓆩⟡𓆪
aliceyriz
oh… a corpse?