The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 149

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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 149

I relayed Noma’s words to Luka.
“Whenever you miss your grandmother, feel free to visit her.”
Luka acknowledged my words, yet he never once brought up his grandmother.
He never left the Edenberg Estate either.
‘I heard they were family of only two, but perhaps their bond isn’t as close as I thought?’
Though I couldn’t discern the exact reason, I said nothing.
Since he hadn’t broached the subject first, creating an opportunity might only burden them both.
Then a thought suddenly occurred to me.
“Perhaps they both refrain from it, thinking they’re imposing on me.”
After deliberating, I summoned Noma, saying I had something to discuss about Luka.
Noma hurried over, her ailing leg trailing behind her.
And Luka… suddenly embraced his grandmother.
Luka was larger in build than most adult men, while Noma was gaunt and small in frame.
Yet it felt as though Luka was the one being held.
Noma patted Luka’s back with her wrinkled hands as she spoke.
“Have you been well? Have you been eating properly?”
“Yes, I’ve been doing fine. How about you, Grandmother?”
I smiled watching the intimate moment between the two of them.
Relief washed over me that I hadn’t made a mistake, though I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn’t arranged this sooner.
I quietly excused myself from the room.
To allow the two of them, reunited after so long, to share a peaceful moment together.

Less than an hour had passed before Noma came to Artia’s chamber and bowed deeply.
“Thank you, madam. Thanks to your kindness, I was able to see Luka’s face after such a long time.”
“I’m glad it was a good visit. You’re welcome to stay longer if you’d like….”
“No, that’s enough. I’ve seen that Luka is healthy and doing well.”
Her words carried a tender affection for her grandson.
Artia spoke in a warm voice.
“Please come whenever you wish to see Luka.”
“Yes, I will.”
Noma declined Artia’s offer of a carriage and left the estate.
Luka stood at the entrance of the estate for a long while, seeing her off.
Until her figure disappeared from sight.
Shortly after, Luka made his way to Artia’s study.
It was the first time Luka had come here on his own without being summoned by Artia.
Artia greeted him with a surprised expression.
“Did you see your grandmother off safely?”
“Yes.”
As Luka spoke, his eyes were red. I could feel he was holding back tears.
The sight of him overlapped with my past self.
A young girl who couldn’t cry loudly for fear of being scolded, only biting her lips.
‘Is that why I want to help him like this?’
I spoke in a gentle voice.
“Luka, I’d like to invite your grandmother to the estate once a month from now on. Would that be alright with you?”
Luka’s eyes widened, and his expression became as if he might cry.
Luka bowed deeply.
“Thank you, truly thank you, my lady.”
“I’m doing this because I want to, after all.”
Luka spoke to me with a slight smile.
“I will work very hard. That way, I can repay the kindness you’ve shown me.”
In those violet eyes that had been so gentle, a new determination was beginning to shimmer.
I blinked and lifted the corners of my lips.
“I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

The next day, Lamb appeared at the Edenberke Estate with a gloomy expression burdened by all the frustrations of the world.
With sluggish steps, he made his way to the Practice Room, recalling the events of yesterday.
After receiving an unexpected leave of absence, Artia had come to find him sprawled across his home like a slime.
Lamb had jolted awake in surprise at Artia’s visit—she usually met him at the Temporary Office or the Practice Room.
“Please excuse the humble state of things.”
It wasn’t mere courtesy; the condition of his home was truly deplorable.
Artia gazed up at the cobweb-laden ceiling and spoke.
“Your home has quite a distinctive character. It’s exactly what I’d expect from the residence of the genius director Lamb.”
Lamb’s lips curled upward at the sweet flattery, only to immediately fall into a sullen expression. He was in no mood to smile.
To Lamb, who was pouting childishly, Artia spoke.
“You were quite upset because Luka said he couldn’t sing.”
At those words, Lamb’s eyes flickered with intensity.
“Upset doesn’t begin to cover it—I was furious enough to lose my soul. I had such high expectations because he worked hard at everything without making excuses about being inexperienced, but I’m incredibly disappointed in Luka.”
Toward the fuming Lamb, Artia spoke in a measured voice.
“Let’s just remove Luka’s singing part.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Lamb responded as if he’d been struck on the back of his head, then let out a shriek like a bird caught in a trap.
“What?!”
Lamb thrust his face toward Artia, his eyes wide as saucers, and spoke.
“What on earth are you saying? You know as well as I do that adding just one verse of that song will dramatically elevate the immersion and completion of the second half!”
He was so agitated that flecks of spittle flew onto Artia’s face.
Bibi, standing beside Artia, spoke in a low voice.
“It seems Lamb is quite worked up. Shall I calm him down?”
It was a euphemistic way of saying she’d knock him unconscious.
Artia shook her head and spoke to Lamb.
“That’s why I came to see you personally.”
It was a difficult thing for a producer to say.
Artia continued.
“I’ve spoken with him, and Luka has a profound aversion to singing. If we force that part, it will place an enormous burden on him.”
“He needs to overcome it!”
“But he’s only eighteen years old.”
“…!”
“Because he’s so resilient—or rather, because his circumstances forced him to be—Luka has endured far too much suffering at such a young age. I don’t want him to be hurt anymore. At least not while he’s working with us.”
Lamb had done anything and everything to complete an extreme work of art.
He’d forced an actor with a cold and no voice to drink hundred-year-old medicinal extract until they vomited, and he’d relentlessly harassed an actor who needed to lose weight for a role until he’d achieved exactly half his original mass.
Luka was no exception.
He was confident he could make Luka sing by any means necessary. But….
‘Just an eighteen-year-old child.’
The moment he thought this, his resolve weakened.
Not as a director, but as an adult who knew Luka.
In the end, Lamb nodded, tears streaming down his face.
After finishing his recollection, Lamb held back tears that threatened to burst forth and muttered to himself as if making a vow.
“It’s already decided.”
I won’t breathe a word about the song to Luka.
I’ll abandon it cleanly, as if it never happened from the start.
With that resolve, as I entered the Practice Room, Luka, who had arrived earlier, rushed toward me and spoke.
“I want to sing that song, Director!”
“Huh?!”
“I think I was too hasty in saying I couldn’t do it. You said so yourself, Director. If a scene doesn’t work, you practice it hundreds or thousands of times until it does. Please guide me so I can sing. I’m begging you.”
Ah, this child truly…!
I, who had been fading like a ghost, instantly came alive again.
I cried out in a resonant voice.
“Very well! I, Lamb, shall break that wretched curse of yours!”

Luka began practicing the song.
Whenever he tried to sing against his will, his entire body stiffened and no sound would come out.
‘So he truly cannot sing. And it’s quite severe.’
I spoke to Luka.
“Think of it not as a song, but as ordinary dialogue and recite it.”
Following my instruction, Luka read the lyrics as if delivering a soliloquy.
Mikhail and Sandra, watching from the side, spoke.
“His voice and the lyrics are so good that even just reciting it moves the heart.”
“Right, he could just go with that as is.”
Hearing this, I widened my eyes.
“What are you saying! An artist’s duty is to express themselves at their highest capability! Isn’t that right, Luka?”
“Yes!”
In truth, Luka knew nothing of art.
Acting was enjoyable, but it hadn’t stirred emotions profound enough to shake his entire life.
Yet he wanted to work hard.
Because he wanted to be praised by his master.
Just then, the door opened and Artia appeared.
Luka, who had been on the other side, rushed toward Artia in an instant.
“Master!”
Seeing this, Sandra spoke with an astonished expression.
“It was like lightning shot out.”
Mikhail nodded as well.
“Even our dog Poppy at home is slower than that.”

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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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