The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 180

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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 180

Artia posed the question.
“Did Orpheus kill him?”
“Of course he did. Why are you even asking?”
Charlotte spoke, recalling Orpheus’s thoughts as she had read them from Arsen’s eyes.
“He must have orchestrated this to make Killian von Orpheus Emperor as soon as possible. That man has never possessed patience. He regards human lives as less than dust.”
Bibi studied Artia’s expression before speaking.
“I have a report. By the Empress’s strong will, the funeral period has been reduced to two weeks, and it has been decided that the coronation will take place immediately after the funeral concludes. Apparently, the Imperial Palace is now presenting the bizarre spectacle of simultaneous preparations for both the funeral and the coronation.”
Artia furrowed her brows, lost in thought.
On the first day of arriving here, Artia had asked Charlotte a question.
“I came to you through the power of this bracelet. Is it also possible to go to him?”
Charlotte sensed the magic woven into the bracelet.
The bracelet, into which Killian von Orpheus had poured his magical power with meticulous care over a long time, bore a special enchantment.
Regardless of Artia’s danger, whenever she spoke the incantation and envisioned her desired destination, it would transport her there.
“But even if you use it now, you won’t be able to reach Killian von Orpheus’s side.”
“Why not?”
“Because Arsen remains constantly at Killian von Orpheus’s side. He’s blocking all magic.”
That was why the bracelet had been unusable until now.
“But during the coronation, Arsen will be away, so I’ll be able to use the bracelet then. Isn’t that right?”
Charlotte offered a different response instead of answering directly.
“You might die if you go.”
Artia smiled, lowering her brows.
“But if I don’t go, I can’t save him.”
“….”
Charlotte originally never involved herself in others’ affairs unless there was a price she desired in return.
Especially not in matters as grave as this.
‘But she’s being so desperately earnest about it.’
Since fleeing to Charlotte’s Cabin, Artia had not shed a single tear.
On the contrary, she tended to Bibi with care, performed household chores without being asked (though quite clumsily), and repeatedly expressed her gratitude to Charlotte, insisting she would repay the debt.
It was hard to believe this was a woman who had nearly died at the hands of the man she loved and was now being hunted.
But Charlotte saw the truth hidden within those pink eyes.
Artia was weeping like a child.
‘Killian von Orpheus, Killian von Orpheus, Killian von Orpheus, Killian von Orpheus….’
Terrified that the man she loved would never remember her again, that his mind would shatter.
‘This is exactly why I hate this ability.’
Seeing everything laid bare before me bred both contempt for people and, paradoxically, compassion for them.
Such is my fate.
Charlotte exhaled a long sigh and murmured to herself.
“There’s no point trying to stop you—you won’t listen anyway.”
Charlotte turned to Artia, whose eyes had widened in surprise.
“I’ll help you save your lover.”

* * *

Under the Empress’s forceful directive, the coronation preparations were completed in merely a month.
Chandeliers glimmered from the soaring ceiling of the grand chapel, while the floor was carpeted with a long stretch of fabric meticulously embroidered with golden thread, stitch by stitch.
In the vast, empty space stood Killian von Orpheus and Arsen.
Arsen, seated in the wooden wheelchair that Killian von Orpheus pushed, traced the golden carpet with his gaze, his mind drifting to the past.
Five hundred years ago, he had walked this very path with eyes gleaming like a boy’s.
“I will create the most joyful and powerful nation this world has ever known.”
But then, a sudden, searing pain seized his heart, and he collapsed.
How bitterly he had reached toward that distant crown, stretching out his hand in anguish.
The wheelchair carrying Arsen came to a halt before the dais at the end of the carpet.
The dais stood empty still.
But tomorrow, a glittering crown would rest upon it.
Wearing that crown, he would become a noble Emperor and lead this nation.
Arsen turned to Killian von Orpheus, who stood behind him, and smiled as he spoke.
“You, in my stead.”
That was Arsen’s wish.
Yet unlike Arsen’s expectant smile, Killian von Orpheus remained expressionless.
Arsen found this irritating and spoke up.
“You should be happy too, Killian von Orpheus.”
Only then did Killian von Orpheus’s lips curve upward.
The beautiful man’s smile was exquisite as a painting, yet it stirred no emotion whatsoever.
‘He was cuter before….’
Arsen felt a pang of regret, but he harbored no intention whatsoever of breaking Killian von Orpheus’s curse.
Everything was unfolding exactly as I desired.
There was only one thing that grated on me: Artia.
I despised her.
She was the existence that would destroy the world between Arsen and Killian von Orpheus.
So I had Killian von Orpheus wield his sword against her.
I wanted her to vanish from this world forever.
‘But she escaped using magic….’
I issued a warrant for her arrest immediately.
I had expected her to be captured swiftly, yet I could find no witnesses to her whereabouts—she seemed to have vanished without a trace.
It grated on me.
Like a splinter so small it was invisible, embedded somewhere in my fingertips.
But then Arsen let out a soft laugh and shook his head.
“Though this wretched body has become worthless, I am still Orpheus.”
A being possessed of omnipotent power.
What he needed to concern himself with was not some woman cowering in fear like a trembling mouse, but the realization of the dream he had so long yearned for.
“Anyone who stands in my way must be eliminated. You understand, don’t you, Killian?”
Killian nodded with an expressionless face.

* * *

The sunlight was unusually high and scorching.
The Empire’s most illustrious nobles gathered one by one at the Imperial Palace.
They had come to attend the coronation ceremony.
Marigold furrowed her brow as she spoke.
“No matter how important the occasion, I’ve never seen security this stringent before.”
Not only the nobles on the guest list but every servant and coachman they brought with them had their faces and identities verified one by one.
Particularly those close to Artia.
The intention was unmistakable.
They were searching for the wanted fugitive, Artia.
Count Golzess wore a troubled expression as well.
The Emperor had died suddenly, the Empress supported Killian, and the coronation was being held with urgent haste as if fleeing from something.
With momentous events unfolding in rapid succession, the nobility were in disarray.
‘One thing is certain—any behavior that stands out even slightly will put one’s life in danger.’
Not long ago, a noble who had insisted the coronation be postponed until the Emperor’s cause of death was clearly revealed had been dragged to the Imperial Palace and beheaded.
The charge was treason.
The atmosphere was ominous.
Count Golzess spoke to his wife in a low voice.
“Marigold, no matter what happens today, don’t interfere. Just stay still. Please.”
They were not alone in their anxiety.
Many nobles—Dahlia, Frigia, Evangeline, and others—sat in their designated places with troubled expressions.
The atmosphere felt more like a funeral than a coronation ceremony.
That heavy air shifted in an instant.
Killian had arrived.
The man in black formal attire embroidered with gold thread was so beautiful and commanding that his mere presence captivated the gaze of everyone in the world.
Killian advanced with steps that showed not the slightest falter.
At his appearance, the nobility’s doubts and anxieties about the former Emperor’s death vanished all at once.
‘With His Highness Killian, he will become a powerful sovereign and transform this nation into an unprecedented great power.’
Black hair carrying the deep bloodline of the Imperial House and brilliant golden eyes.
The valor and strength displayed through years of military campaigns, and power beyond measure.
He was the ideal Emperor that countless citizens of the Empire had longed for over many years.
Meanwhile, Arsen sat in a chair concealed behind sheer fabric on the second floor of the Grand Chapel, observing the scene unfold below.
His pallid face, drained of all color, remained unchanged, yet it now brimmed with an excitement that had never been there before.
With each step Killian von Orpheus took toward the crown, my heartbeat quickened.
‘This is it—I’m finally becoming Emperor!’
As Killian von Orpheus reached for the crown, Arsen’s hazy golden eyes flooded with rapture.
But then his eyes snapped shut.
A brilliant light had flashed before him.
When Arsen opened his eyes again, his face contorted.
Artia stood before Killian von Orpheus.
“How did you—!”
Before Arsen could act, Artia moved first.

She recalled her recent conversation with Charlotte.
“You said there were three ways to break Orpheus’s magic.”
Either Orpheus himself could dispel it.
Or one of Orpheus or Killian von Orpheus had to die.
Among those options, the only method Artia could choose was to kill Arsen.
But in reality, it was nearly impossible to take the life of someone as formidably powerful and surrounded by an impenetrable guard as Arsen.
“Is there any other way to break the magic besides that? Anything at all—please, I’m begging you. Tell me.”
Charlotte furrowed her brow.
After a moment, Charlotte reluctantly forced the words from her lips, as though extracting something she despised.
“I have seen someone break the magic on their own.”
Artia’s eyes widened as she asked.
“How?!”
“When they suffered a mental shock more devastating than death itself.”

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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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