The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 109

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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 109

“Aunt….”
When she had been told to meet Calvin before, they had only exchanged letters, and even when they occasionally encountered each other in the Banquet Hall, they had shared only brief greetings. It had been half a year since they last stood face to face like this.
Evangeline stood with a cool expression, and an overwhelming pressure radiated from her presence.
“You’ve stirred up quite a commotion.”
Artia understood the meaning behind Evangeline’s brief words.
It was undoubtedly about Frigia’s trial.
“High Society is abuzz with nothing but talk of Lady Elysium. You did wonderfully in amplifying the incident and creating favorable public opinion for her. You subtly moved the hearts of women who had suffered similar pain. However.”
Her voice continued, elegant yet stern.
“You do realize that no matter how hard you worked, the true protagonist of this affair is Freesia von Elysium, don’t you? She will be this year’s Ethereal.”
Artia’s expression shifted to one of surprise at this entirely unexpected revelation.
Watching her face, Evangeline wondered.
‘Would she boast that she had anticipated as much? Or would she be deflated, having failed to foresee even that?’
Yet Artia’s reaction was entirely different from what Evangeline had imagined.
Artia laughed with composure.
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t do this with the Ethereal in mind.”
A few months ago, when she had pretended to know Marigold on Diamond Street, things had been different.
Artia had possessed a goal: the Ethereal.
To grow closer to the Flower Ladies who led High Society, and through that influence, to win the attention and affection of countless women.
But when had it happened?
When had that cunning scheme vanished from her mind?
When had her feelings toward them become genuine?
Now it no longer mattered who became the Ethereal. She had gained something far more precious.
“I’ve made wonderful friends. That is enough for me.”
“….”
Evangeline’s eyes widened as if she had been struck, and she asked.
“I told you that if you wanted my recognition, you would become the Ethereal. You confidently said you would. Were those words mere bluster? Or did you simply abandon your ambitions on a whim?”
Her raised voice carried a subtle anger. Yet instead of shrinking back, Artia answered with confidence.
“No, Aunt. I still need your power very much. Desperately, in fact.”
“….”
“But the Ethereal is not chosen only once a year.”
Opportunities did not come just once. More than anything….
“If what you desire is not merely the title of Ethereal but achievements that everyone will acknowledge, then I have already demonstrated that sufficiently.”
Though Freesia was the protagonist, it was undeniably Artia who had shaped public opinion, found witnesses, and guided the trial to a favorable outcome. Anyone with even a passing interest in this affair knew that truth.
At Artia’s confident demeanor, Evangeline was left speechless. Soon after, she muttered as if to herself.
“You hardly seem like that cursed man’s daughter. You’ve grown far too well.”
Artia’s eyes curved softly with warmth.
“But I’m also your niece, aren’t I?”
Evangeline couldn’t help but burst into laughter at such an audacious remark.
That was the end of it.
Artia didn’t plead for my favor any further. She didn’t resort to coquetry.
I even found that appealing. Damn it all.
But that was then, and this is now.
Evangeline returned to her characteristically stern expression and spoke.
“A positive attitude is pleasant to witness, but that’s merely your one-sided thinking. I have no intention of supporting you unless you perfectly solve the assignment I’ve given you.”
Artia nodded calmly without the slightest hint of disappointment.
“I shall become an Ethereal and return to see you as soon as possible.”
Perhaps not this year, but someday—surely.
Evangeline’s gaze softened as she read the resolute determination gleaming in those rose-tinted eyes.
Before leaving the Terrace, Evangeline spoke words uncharacteristic of her.
“As a noblewoman, I commend the results you’ve achieved. However, your methods were far too reckless.”
The Court and public opinion had sided with Freesia von Elysium, yet power still rested firmly in the hands of men. Evangeline, who understood this reality more keenly than anyone, continued.
“Be cautious.”
“….”
Though I affected composure, in truth I was deeply anxious.
I had expected to be thoroughly scolded for causing such a commotion. Yet instead, I received praise and words of concern.
My cheeks rounded with a smile—that innocent, childlike expression one wears when their mother gently strokes their hair.
“I’ll remember that.”
Artia nodded, her face flushed slightly.

* * *

Evangeline’s concerns were not unfounded.
I had made many enemies, particularly among certain noble men whose fury was considerable.
Anonymous letters arrived at my residence filled with curses, and there were many who openly criticized me.
However, it was not a serious matter.
The letters went straight into the fireplace, and those who sought confrontation…
“So you have grievances with Artia? By all means, share them with us. We’ll listen to every word.”
My friends—Penelope, Marigold, and Dahlia among them—would descend upon them in a group and handle the matter.
Then one day, a letter arrived.
The moment I saw the name written on the envelope, my face turned as pale as a rotten egg.
Crank von Edenberg.
My eldest uncle.
The letter, scrawled with the same irritable hand as his disagreeable temperament, contained a summons—he had something to discuss with me.
‘Should I ignore it?’
But he was an elder of House of Edenberg. If I openly disregarded him, there was no telling what pretext he might seize.
More than anything, I did not wish to disappoint Evangeline with such reckless behavior.
In the end, I made my way to Crank’s Mansion.
The servant who guided me to the chamber within the mansion spoke with a cold expression.
“The master does not permit subordinates to be present in spaces where superiors converse.”
He said this while looking at Bibi, who stood beside me.
It was customary to have an attendant wait elsewhere, so I nodded without protest.
“Wait comfortably in the Waiting Room, Bibi.”
Since this place was not favorable to either of us, I added one more thing.
“If anyone troubles you, don’t hesitate—strike them. I’ll take full responsibility.”
At those words, a faint smile appeared on Bibi’s otherwise expressionless face.
“Yes, I shall.”

Artia stepped into the room.
In the spacious chamber sat a man with silver hair and piercing crimson eyes—the very image of Artia’s biological father—lounging with insufferable arrogance.
Crank von Edenberg regarded Artia with a scowl.
“You prance about without a shred of fear, and now you’ve forgotten how to show proper respect?”
Regardless of my true feelings, I must maintain at least the bare minimum of courtesy. My dignity demands it.
Artia made no effort to conceal her displeasure as she offered a shallow bow.
“It has been some time, Uncle.”
“Tch, is that what you call a greeting? Bend properly at the waist and do it again.”
He had always been this way.
He would hide from Benedict’s gaze and hurl countless insults at young Artia, forcing her to bow again and again.
He had vented his resentment toward his older brother upon his defenseless niece.
‘What a pathetic man.’
Rather than repeat the gesture as she had in childhood, Artia offered an elegant smile.
“Though I currently lack a husband, I am the Duchess of Edenberg. Both within and beyond our house, my rank exceeds yours. I believe my initial greeting already extended the utmost respect befitting an elder of the family, would you not agree?”
“What, what did you just—?!”
Crank von Edenberg’s face contorted grotesquely at her words.
As the second son, he had been denied the title. His inferiority complex regarding the Dukedom of Edenberg burned so fiercely that he could not restrain himself and cried out.
“I knew you were mad, but your condition is far worse than I imagined!”

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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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