I Think My Husband Might Be a Murderer - Chapter 8

***

Somehow, peaceful days continued. The vague rumors about House Schultz were gradually fading.

In the meantime, I had moved all the items filled with memories of my father out of sight.

I still thought of him now and then, but it was more bearable than at first. I was doing my best to stay so busy that I wouldn’t have time to think about him.

When I visited the post office to contact the Russell Marquess household and inform them that I couldn’t attend the interview, I was met with a cold and scathing reproach.

Only after apologizing multiple times did the butler from the Marquess household let me go.

In any case, after staying so busy, the day of my first shift at the Schultz ducal estate finally arrived.

I got up earlier than usual and finished getting ready to head to the ducal mansion. As soon as I got into the carriage, the coachman let out a thunderous yell.

“Why’re you going to the Schultz ducal estate where the master’s gone? Don’t tell me you’re the Young Duke’s secret lover or something?”

“No, absolutely not.”

Even though I firmly denied it, the coachman’s hostile gaze stayed fixed on me. I hurriedly lied that I was a newspaper reporter.

He still looked suspicious, but seemed to buy it to some degree.

‘Next time, I should get off nearby and walk the rest of the way.’

The view outside the window wasn’t as peaceful as it used to be, but it was still lively in its own way.

After passing through a crowded street, the carriage entered a quieter area. We rode up a long, steep hill before finally reaching the entrance to Evanstein Castle.

“Wow…”

Getting off the carriage, I looked down the cliff.

The surrounding forest was covered in snow. Below lay Musen, the river that ran through it, Lake Popsen, and the distant sea—all visible at once.

It struck me again how high the castle was situated.

Turning around, I saw the main gate, its roof raised. Cream-colored pillars framed closely stacked red bricks.

I stared blankly at the eagle emblem of House Schultz carved above the gate, then slowly stepped inside.

Buildings layered outward in all directions like a fortress. Intimidated by the grandeur, I found myself shrinking back.

After walking a fairly long distance and climbing up milk-colored stone steps, the butler of the ducal estate greeted me first.

“Miss Edith Prim? Thank you for coming such a long way. I am Fret Gunner.”

Oh no.

I stared blankly at the man before me, too stunned to even return the greeting.

Do you have to be handsome to work for a ducal household?

Fret Gunner was so good-looking I forgot how tired I was. Though his style was a bit different from Johannes Schultz.

If I had to describe him in one word: a good-natured handsome man, through and through.

His warm, approachable smile made his already attractive features even more appealing.

And that wasn’t all. His neatly groomed dark brown hair and tidy attire elevated his charm even more.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—he didn’t seem fazed by my reaction. Maintaining a polite smile, he continued, “I serve as both the butler of House Schultz and the master’s aide. I’ll explain most things, but feel free to ask me anything you’re unsure about.”

“Goodness…”

His courteous demeanor left me covering my mouth without thinking.

His eyes widened slightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Wrong? Not at all.

Despite me being just a mere servant, he treated me with such respect. Even though I had rudely stared and failed to greet him properly.

I quickly waved my hand and blurted out whatever came to mind. “No, absolutely not. I just didn’t know how to address you.”

“Ah. You can just call me by name.”

He smiled even more perfectly.

“Yes, Sir Fret. Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Edith Prim.”

In real life, personal circumstances don’t matter.

In other words, showing a gloomy face at an interview is never a good idea. Especially not for a job you desperately want.

So I smiled brightly, as if I had no worries in the world.

“There’s no need to add ‘Sir’ unless it’s more comfortable for you, Miss Prim.”

“You’re very kind.”

“I’m simply treating the master’s guest as is proper.”

“I’m not a guest…”

“You haven’t signed the employment contract yet.”

Sir Fret smiled faintly. Feeling awkward, I returned an uneasy smile.

In any case, he remained consistently kind. I didn’t know much about noble households, but surely no other butler treated a servant with such courtesy.

Sir Fret then began showing me around Evanstein Castle. He also started explaining the work I would be doing.

“Miss Prim, your task will be to sort the documents delivered to House Schultz by date.”

“Is that all? It sounds too simple…”

“You’ll understand once you see it. Let me show you the interior. This way, please.”

With that, he took the lead. I followed him, stiff with tension.

The castle was as massive as it was eclectic in style. Depending on the period’s trends, some sections were simple while others were incredibly ornate. Many different architectural styles coexisted.

Even so, it could easily be called the most beautiful castle in Dochilia.

From the grand hall to the atelier and the banquet hall, every space was lavishly crafted.

Sir Fret even showed me numerous private rooms and the library.

Lastly, we headed to the reception room to finalize the contract. As expected, even the reception room was extraordinary. The arched walls added to its grandeur, and every small ornament placed around the room felt intentionally positioned.

While I stood there dumbfounded, Sir Fret handed me the contract.

“The servants’ quarters are in the eastern annex. But since you’ll be commuting, I won’t need to show you there.”

Just as promised, the weekly salary was one million Berks.

Seeing the figure in writing made it feel even more surreal. As I stood staring blankly at the number—

“If the amount is incorrect, please let me know. And if there’s anything you’d like to revise, I’ll check with the master.”

“No, this amount is already more than I deserve.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Now that I thought about it, was the Young Duke not coming? I looked around and asked, “Then, the Young Duke…”

“You’ll need to correct the form of address.”

“Pardon?”

I tilted my head in confusion, and Sir Fret explained, “The master inherited the title upon the previous duke’s death.”

“Oh…”

My face turned bright red.

How was I supposed to know how noble title succession worked?

In a way, this was also the Duke’s fault for not correcting me.

“There’s no need to feel embarrassed. In most families, the heir only receives the title after an official succession process.”

Sir Fret kindly added that explanation. As expected, he was very thoughtful.

“As you know, the master is officially listed as missing, so we ask that you keep this matter confidential. Do you have any questions regarding the master?”

“Yes, just one.”

He waited silently for me to continue.

“Then, was the ‘missing’ rumor intentionally spread by the ducal house?”

“Creating a new topic is an old-fashioned method, but an effective one.”

“I see.” I nodded slowly.

It was true. At first, the articles mainly talked about the Young Duke’s alleged embezzlement. But now, all attention was focused on his whereabouts.

Rumors had become widely accepted: that someone kidnapped Johannes Schultz for the hidden fortune, or that he had fled abroad.

Marveling once again at how nobles operated, I signed the contract.

***

“Just out of curiosity,” Sir Fret said as I finished getting ready to return home after being assigned my office.

I turned to him with a puzzled expression. “Yes, go ahead.”

“Have you ever received formal etiquette training?”

“Sorry…?”

My face flushed bright red.

Was he indirectly telling me I was rude?

Was he about to revoke the job offer?

Had I made a mistake somehow?

If the job were canceled, I’d have nowhere else to go. In a flustered tone, I hurriedly replied, “Of course. Enough to get along well with others. Though I don’t usually think about it much, so I struggle in formal settings like this.”

Honestly, I had been putting in a lot of effort to appear presentable.

If I made a good impression on the butler, word might get around favorably among the staff.

After all, if my father really had spoken highly of me, I couldn’t afford to disappoint.

Still, if my etiquette was truly poor…

‘I’d be rejected from not only this ducal house but any noble household.’

Heart pounding, I asked, “Did I make a mistake or act rudely?”

Sir Fret shook his head slightly. I exhaled in relief.

But then his next words caught me completely off guard.

“No, what I meant was… have you ever formally studied upper-class etiquette?”