The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 133

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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 133

The woman who had widened her eyes in surprise soon broke into a serene smile and lifted the hem of her skirt in a graceful curtsy.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Artia. I’m Sandra.”
The man bowed as well.
“I’m Mikhail.”
‘So it’s true—good looks alone don’t make a great performer. Both of them have such beautiful voices, and their diction is impeccable.’
Artia, who had been watching the two of them as if entranced, suddenly came to her senses and greeted them in return.
“It’s wonderful to meet you both. I’m Artia von Edenberg.”
“….”
An awkward silence fell over the room.
Artia asked, bewildered.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Sandra shook her head.
“Not at all. It’s just that you’re not merely nobility—you’re the Duchess herself. We were simply surprised that someone of such high standing would speak to us so politely.”
Artia laughed at their candid response.
“Right now, we’re meeting not as nobility and commoners, but as a producer and performers. I want to respect you both as colleagues working together.”
Even among commoners, actors were often scorned as frivolous entertainers who made money through meaningless spectacle.
Yet here was a noblewoman saying such things….
Sandra burst into laughter.
Her lean frame seemed to vibrate with the force of her hearty laugh as she spoke.
“The terms were so good that I signed on without hesitation, but honestly, I was worried. I wondered what kind of noblewoman would create a performance—whether she’d be capricious and sharp-tongued, which would be difficult to work with. But to think you’d be so charming….”
Sandra’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
“You’re absolutely wonderful.”
“I like you too.”
The words tumbled from Artia’s lips before she could stop herself, and she gasped, covering her mouth.
But it was already too late.
Sandra, delighted beyond measure, clutched her stomach in laughter and jabbed Mikhail with her elbow.
“You like Artia too, don’t you?”
Mikhail, who had maintained a composed expression throughout, furrowed his brow.
“Don’t be disrespectful.”
“What? That’s my charm.”
“It really is, Sandra. You’re absolutely magnetic.”
Oh no, there I go again—my thoughts just spill right out of my mouth.
Mikhail spoke to Artia, who had covered her mouth once more.
“We will do our utmost to deliver excellent results worthy of your trust.”
His gaze had grown so much softer than before—it was utterly romantic.
Artia could say with certainty:
‘If these two played Reinhardt and Maria, they would absolutely become a sensation!’
However, there was one role that remained uncast until the very end.
Shine.
A silent slave who harbored unrequited love for the female lead.
Though the role wasn’t extensive, the character was so endearing that there were quite a few readers who had fallen for Shine more than the male lead.
Lamb’s face had grown even more gaunt as he spoke with gleaming eyes.
“We should hold auditions.”
Yet despite Lamb’s confidence that he knew every actor in the Empire, the miracle of finding that elusive person never materialized at the audition.
The auditions concluded without any success.
Lamb muttered with the haggard expression of a mother who had lost her child.
“Shine… Shine… where are you, Shine…?”
Sandra, who sat with her legs crossed before him, spoke in a sharp, decisive tone.
“If there were someone with such stunning looks that they could captivate people while remaining silent, word would have spread long ago. Stop being so greedy and find an actor with decent features whose acting skill can make up for the rest.”
The moment Mikhail beside her nodded in agreement, both Artia and Lamb cried out simultaneously.
“Absolutely not!”
Artia spoke with blazing eyes.
“Shine is like a strawberry placed atop a white cream cake. While it doesn’t directly affect the taste, how luscious and beautiful that strawberry is determines the entire image and feeling of the cake. We need an actor like a Sicilian spring strawberry…”
Artia trailed off.
A man had just entered the room through the opening door.
She wasn’t alone in her reaction.
Lamb, Sandra, Mikhail—everyone in the room gazed at him as though their very souls had been stolen.
Lamb, standing beside Artia, cried out.
“Sh-Sh-Shine!”
Artia grabbed Lamb as he rushed toward the man.
Lamb spoke with an anguished expression, like a panicked lizard.
“Move aside! The goddess of art has sent us Shine—we must seize him before he escapes!”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not!”
Artia hesitated before crying out.
“Because that man is Prince Killian von Orpheus, not Shine!”
“…?!”
In that instant, the room was struck as though by a thunderbolt.
Mikhail and Sandra gasped in shock, covering their mouths.
Lamb blinked repeatedly, staring at Shine—no, Killian.
He had seen members of the Imperial Family several times while producing performances for the Imperial Palace.
Yet his aging eyesight had never given him a clear view of the prince seated in the highest seat on the second floor.
Though even through the haze, he could discern how perfectly handsome the prince’s features were.
Just like the man standing before him now.
Only then did Lamb realize that Artia’s words were true, and he prostrated himself flat on the ground.
“Please spare me!”
“….”
“Ah, no, forgive me. I, a humble servant, offer my respects to the noble bloodline of House of Orpheus.”
Sandra and Mikhail, who had been standing with their mouths agape, dropped to their knees and pressed themselves against the floor.
Killian von Orpheus’s arrogant gaze swept past Lamb and fixed upon Mikhail.
Unlike Lamb, whose moment had lasted less than a second, his attention lingered on Mikhail considerably longer.
Killian von Orpheus then turned his head toward Artia and spoke.
“It has been a long time, Artia.”
* * *
“Your Highness, I have something I wish to discuss with you. Please, allow me to join the conversation….”
Mikhail silenced Lamb’s desperate pleas without regard for his own life, and in that moment, Artia guided Killian von Orpheus to the Reception Room.
After Bibi brought tea and dessert and left the chamber, only the two of them remained in the spacious room.
An unprecedented silence settled over them.
In that silence, my heart raced wildly.
That night, which I had deliberately forgotten while immersing myself in work, now flooded my mind completely.
That evening in Leju when, drunk, I had kissed him.
‘What if His Highness brings up that incident?’
The easiest answer would be that I don’t remember. But I didn’t want to lie to him.
I gripped the hem of my skirt.
‘I should tell him I remember everything, and apologize for my shameless drunken behavior.’
I couldn’t imagine how Killian von Orpheus would react. That made it all the more terrifying.
Killian von Orpheus spoke to me as I swallowed dryly.
“The nobility and even the Imperial Family have been gossiping about House of Edenberg’s new venture.”
“…!”
“It seems the performance you saw in Leju proved helpful.”
“….”
Even as Killian von Orpheus mentioned Leju, he made no reference whatsoever to what had transpired that night.
His intention was unmistakable.
‘His Highness simply doesn’t wish to speak of that incident.’
It was strange.
I should have felt relieved, yet an inexplicable displeasure washed over me.
Bewildered by that emotion, I spoke whatever came to mind.
“Your Highness, the fact that you mention it shows we’ve succeeded in capturing attention. Now we simply need to produce the performance properly.”
“Are you confident?”
At his provocative question, I forgot my earlier confusion and answered boldly.
“Of course. The most popular author in the Empire, RedLip, has written the original novel, and the brilliant director Lamb is pouring his entire soul into its creation. When the performance is staged, it will shake the entire Empire like a tremendous blizzard.”
Killian von Orpheus gazed at me intently.
Not long ago, this woman had sighed, uncertain of what to do, yet now she shone brilliantly.
While that sight brought reassurance, a bittersweet feeling crept into his heart.
The thought that there was nothing more I could do for her weighed heavily on me.
Then Artia’s voice reached Killian von Orpheus’s ears.
“—that’s what I’m saying as the creator. No matter how well-crafted a work is, it only increases the odds of success. It can’t guarantee a 100% outcome, can it?”
“….”
“Truth be told, I’m terrified it might not work.”
The confident, commanding expression she’d worn moments before—like a knight certain of victory—transformed into that of a frightened girl.
In that instant, Killian von Orpheus’s melancholy evaporated entirely.

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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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