The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 105

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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In Search of the Duke’s Husband – Episode 105

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Some women cheered as though victory had been won in war, while others condemned it as the worst possible verdict.
In the courtroom that had grown as chaotic as a marketplace, Killian von Orpheus sat alone in quiet stillness, his gaze fixed on Artia, who laughed while embracing Frigia.
It had been a provocative and fascinating trial. Yet throughout those proceedings, Killian had seen only Artia, seated beside him.
For more than three hours, Artia had tensed, raged, found relief, and grown anxious.
When she bit her lip so hard he feared she might draw blood, Killian felt the urge to rush to the judge’s bench and cry out, “In this case, the Countess Elysium is unquestionably the victim. Throw Count Elysium in prison at once!”
But he restrained himself. Artia would not wish for such a thing.
Despite her fragile appearance—as though she might shatter at the slightest touch—she refused to accept help from others easily. She strove to achieve things through her own strength and effort. That quality was truly…
“Adorable.”
Only Nocton von Alihas, standing directly beside him, heard the low murmur.
Nocton’s face had gone pale, his expression one of shock. Regardless, Killian’s countenance remained composed.
He seemed unaware of what he had just uttered.
Killian continued watching Artia for some time before rising from his seat.
He made his way to the judge’s private office, a space only judges were permitted to enter.
Upon seeing Killian enter without knocking, Calvin refrained from shouting at this lawless man to leave, and instead said:
“Your Highness, forgive me, but there is only one chair in this office, and I have only just finished the trial. I am quite exhausted.”
“And?”
Calvin imagined saying, “Would it be acceptable if we sat together, since it is difficult for me to yield my seat to Your Highness?”—and then seating Killian upon his own lap.
It was merely a fantasy.
Fortunately, Calvin understood that even madness must be tempered by discretion, so without complaint, he rose from his chair and stood before his desk.
Killian settled into the chair without a trace of gratitude and spoke.
“What shall I give you?”
The tone resembled asking what sweets to buy a child, yet it was far from a casual remark.
Killian possessed the ability to grant Calvin whatever he desired—even the treasures of the Imperial Palace. Yet Calvin shook his head.
“If Your Highness is pleased with the outcome of the trial just concluded, there is no need to give me anything. For my judgment was not rendered for Your Highness’s sake.”
Calvin had felt threatened by Killian, but that threat had not influenced his judicial decision.
“A man who beats his wife according to his whims is a cur. It is only natural to restrain such a raging beast so it does not bite people again.”
The words that emerged from Calvin’s stern face were as crude as those of a street thug.
Killian responded with a look of intrigue in his eyes.
“For such reasoning, the punishment seems rather lenient.”
“I share that sentiment, but it was the harshest sentence I could impose given the current circumstances.”
To render a guilty verdict for the act of striking one’s wife was itself an extraordinarily bold move.
It was a very unprecedented move to issue a guilty verdict solely on the basis of the act of hitting his wife.
“I suppose as of today, I’ll become one of the most despised men among certain radical Empire nobles. After all, I’ve diminished their authority. In the worst case, I could be assassinated.”
“I won’t let you die.”
Calvin seized upon Killian’s words, delivered as though bestowing a favor.
“Please do. I’m not quite ready to meet my end yet.”
For someone facing tremendous backlash and threats to his life, Calvin’s expression appeared remarkably satisfied.
Judge Calvin, who had advanced women’s rights by a century through a verdict that shook the Empire itself.
No one knew that he had grown up watching his mother beaten by his father in childhood.
Even Clara, his own mother, believed she had perfectly hidden that sight from her son.

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Edenberke Estate.
Artia, Frigia, Marigold, and Dahlia sat gathered together.
Marigold cried out without concealing her excitement.
“While the trial was happening, I waited outside holding Dahlia’s hand. When we heard the verdict, I forgot all about a lady’s dignity and let out a shriek!”
Joy glimmered in Dahlia’s composed eyes.
“As expected of Calvin. He rendered a courageous judgment without fearing the torrent of criticism.”
Watching the two women rejoice as though it were their own triumph, tears welled in Frigia’s eyes.
Frigia could never have come this far alone.
Marigold, Dahlia, and… Artia.
Dressed in comfortable indoor attire with her makeup removed, Artia looked like an innocent girl who knew nothing of the world. Yet she was Frigia’s hero.
She had taken her hand and guided her toward something Frigia had thought utterly impossible.
Frigia clasped Artia’s hand and spoke as though reciting an incantation.
“Eres mi salvador. Te ofrezco mi alma.”
The unfamiliar words were from Palenta, Frigia’s homeland.
Artia’s eyes widened as she asked.
“What does it mean?”
You are my benefactor. I will never forget all the kindness you have shown me, and when the moment comes that you need my help, I will gladly offer you everything I have.
Rather than speak all of that, Frigia offered a brief explanation.
“It’s a way of saying thank you.”
Artia laughed brightly.
“I’m the one who should be grateful. This verdict only came about because Frigia found the courage.”
The Imperial Court had officially sided with a wife being abused. For Artia, who had endured the same suffering, and for countless other women silently bearing their pain, it was a judgment of profound solace.
As Frigia and Artia stood holding each other’s hands and gazing warmly at one another, Marigold let out a soft whimper.
“To see the princesses I adore so dearly become close—it’s moving.”
Marigold, tears streaming down her face, lifted the wine bottle she had brought.
Kuellamshan 18-year vintage!
It was a wine so renowned that even Artia, who didn’t care for alcohol, knew its name. Its price was as extraordinary as its reputation.
Marigold boldly poured the wine—a vintage most nobles would struggle to drink in a lifetime—into everyone’s glasses and cried out.
“On a joyous day like this, we must celebrate wildly. Let’s tuck away a lady’s dignity in a jewelry box for now!”
The three women eagerly joined in her sentiment.
Clink!
Four glasses of deep crimson wine clinked together with a crystalline sound.
That night, the four women ate, drank, and gossiped without restraint.
Marigold laughed merrily as she combed and styled the other three women’s hair as she pleased.
“I’m telling you, doll-dressing is the most fun!”
Dahlia, thoroughly intoxicated with flushed cheeks, spoke up.
“Did you know? I’m actually the most famous romance author in this entire Empire….”
Just before she could say RedLip, Artia—her hair braided into two pigtails by Marigold’s handiwork—urgently stuffed a large macaron into Dahlia’s mouth.
Dahlia mumbled incoherently around the macaron filling her mouth, her words slurred and mangled.
“I’m really such an amazing person, you know….”
Meanwhile, Frigia devoured the food laid out on the table with the ferocity of a warrior.
Plump fried chicken, fresh cream cake topped with crimson strawberries, pasta laden with seafood, chocolate so decadently sweet it was almost sinful.
For so long she had severely restricted what she ate under the pretense of maintaining her appearance, but the truth was she loved food.
Artia, seated among them, sipped her wine with a blissful expression.
‘This is absolutely delicious….’
Her pale cheeks flushed deeper than the wine itself.

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“We’re burning the night away!”
Marigold, who had shouted this with such conviction, was the first to collapse.
For all her passion, she was actually an extraordinary sleeper—she had never woken earlier than her stepsister Cecilia.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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