Chapter 79 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤
✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕𝟗 ✦
❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤❞
⟪𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆, 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕.⟫
𓆩⟡𓆪───────𖤐───────𓆩⟡𓆪
“A duchess, once a commoner, earns the royal family’s favor.”
In the gloom of a shadowed chamber, a man cloaked in silence sat still. His hat cast a veil over his eyes, but the dim glow of the lamp flickered on the headline before him.
His fingers clenched.
The newspaper crumpled in his grasp, its pages groaning under the weight of his rage before he slammed it onto the desk with a sharp thud.
A sigh escaped him.
Not once, but over and over—each breath heavier than the last. His shoulders slumped, as though the weight of the world had come crashing down upon them.
An almost-empty glass sat before him. The liquor was strong—but his eyes, unfazed and lucid, betrayed no drunkenness.
He pressed his eyelids together in agony… then opened them slowly.
In the half-light, his eyes shimmered—a serene but eerie shade of green. Yet even that calm hue could not mask the chaos swirling within.
Moments passed.
Then, in a voice hoarse with bitterness, he whispered a single name:
“Edith…”
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✦───────𓆩⟡𓆪
Even after the resplendent ball ended, my thoughts refused to quiet down. Sleep eluded me. Instead of clarity, I returned home wrapped in a deeper, more tangled haze.
From Edward—I gained nothing.
From Johannes—only a storm of confusion.
A terrifying thought crept into my heart: even if he were the killer… would I still try to believe he wasn’t?
No.
Before that possibility could harden into indifference, I needed to uncover the truth myself.
But truth doesn’t come to those who remain still. Ignorance might be bliss to some—but not to me.
I had no choice.
‘I must uncover it… with my own hands.’
Dangerous? Absolutely. Reckless? Perhaps.
Yet I had an edge—unlike others, I knew the script. I had read the novel that wove this world. I knew its rhythm, its beats, and the shadows that danced behind the curtain.
I would not let myself walk into death. I had studied the villain. I knew their patterns—maybe better than they knew themselves.
I began to plan.
‘I’ll postpone the basement… for now. First, I need to leave the mansion.’
With Johannes out, tending to affairs related to last night’s disappearance, I approached Lord Fret.
“I’m thinking of stepping out today.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“May I ask where to, my lady?”
“Just a visit to a coffeehouse with Ahin. She’s been working hard lately… and she’s bringing me a gift from the dressmaker.”
My lie was smooth, painted with just the right brushstrokes of sincerity. Fret nodded without suspicion.
“I shall report this to His Grace.”
“Please do.”
He didn’t seem to notice anything off.
Still, as always, he added:
“There have been many disappearances lately. I urge you to return before dark.”
“Of course. And I’ll have an escort. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Despite the risks, I didn’t consider myself a target.
The criminal hunted professional commoners. Not nobility. Not duchesses.
These abductions were precise—swift, cold, and clean. No evidence left. It was clear they had planned meticulously, choosing their victims after thorough observation.
How many had already vanished?
How many more would?
And yet… I didn’t realize another woman would soon disappear again.
“Ah, and I didn’t see Marilyn this morning. If you come across her, please give her some Eden Blanc on my behalf.”
I left a bouquet—the very one Edward gifted me—on Lord Fret’s desk. The flowers still glowed with life, untouched by time.
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✦───────𓆩⟡𓆪
Ahin.
She trailed behind me with a soft smile, innocent and unaware. Or so she seemed.
But I had long suspected that she answered to Johannes.
She watched everything. Closely. Eagerly.
And I needed space from her.
Just for a little while.
“Ahin,” I said, turning to her sweetly. “Would you mind going to Mond Bakery on Landstrasse and getting me some stollen? I’ve been craving it.”
Mond Bakery was notoriously crowded—lines often stretched an hour long. With luck, I could gain some precious time.
Her face lit up.
“Oh! I’ve always wanted to visit that bakery! I know where it is. I’ll go right away, ma’am!”
She practically skipped away.
Now… one problem remained.
The escort.
If I could just deal with that—
I could move freely, at least for a short while.
There would likely be only one. I wasn’t going to the city center, after all.
I glanced around, feigning casualness.
Then—there he was.
He emerged soundlessly, as if summoned by my gaze. Though dressed plainly, I knew the weight his coat carried—hidden weapons, perhaps. Deadly ones.
Schatten.
It was surreal, seeing him in real life. Until now, they were only names in a novel.
I looked at his face and blinked in surprise.
A familiar face.
One of the kitchen workers at Evanstein. Silent, unremarkable—yet memorable because of that very quietness.
I approached him calmly.
“I need a favor.”
“…Yes, my lady?”
I grabbed his wrist and led him into an alley, away from prying eyes.
“I know you report everything to my husband,” I said bluntly. “Even trivial things about me.”
He hesitated, but nodded.
“As expected… So I ask—just for today. Please don’t tell him.”
“I’m afraid I cannot.”
No surprise.
“Even this conversation will be reported?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll tell him all this—and he’ll jump to conclusions.”
He didn’t reply.
I began to coax him gently. But his loyalty was ironclad. No charm or persuasion could shake him.
Fine.
Then… I would do what the heroine once did.
Time to act.
“…I was born a commoner,” I whispered. “I lived freely. But after this marriage… everything changed. This noble life is stifling.”
His eyes flickered. Still no response.
“I know this is selfish. But if he hears everything—my every step—it feels like I’ve lost all I had left.”
I let my voice tremble. My eyes filled with false sorrow. A mask of vulnerability.
He faltered.
“…Just for today,” he muttered finally. “But you must grow used to your noble life soon.”
Relief flooded through me.
“Thank you… truly.”
Now, with no eyes left to watch, I turned all my focus toward the victims.
Lawyers. Pharmacists. Doctors. Tax accountants.
Professional women.
So… was this about entitlement?
Perhaps the killer was a woman who had been denied such a life.
Or a man—one who couldn’t bear women surpassing him.
He must have lured them, or ambushed them—then eliminated the evidence.
If so, it was likely a man. The strength needed to abduct and dispose of a body wasn’t insignificant.
But…
There were no signs of struggle. No strange items. No clues.
So… did they go willingly?
The thought sent a chill down my spine.
Then—something else struck me.
The silence.
Sudden. Absolute.
I looked up, startled.
And realized—
…I was somewhere unfamiliar.
𓆩⟡𓆪───────✦ 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… ✦───────𓆩⟡𓆪
