The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 185

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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 185

A midnight rendezvous with him in my chambers.
It was the most precious hour of each day.
The two of us talked late into the night.
Killian von Orpheus held me close, listening quietly, when his eyebrows suddenly rose.
“You agreed to exchange letters with that man?”
Artia furrowed her brows.
“How long are you going to keep calling him that? His name is Luka. Use it properly.”
Killian von Orpheus was the sort who would rename entire nations at Artia’s word, yet he answered as though he hadn’t heard her at all.
That irritating bastard.
It was only through considerable restraint that he didn’t say it aloud.
‘If I tell him not to send letters to that man, she’ll be upset.’
Killian von Orpheus knew that Artia cared for Luka. He didn’t wish to wound that affection.
That said, he had no intention of passively allowing the two of them to correspond.
“Whenever you write a letter, I’ll write one too.”
Artia frowned as though she’d heard words never meant for her ears.
“Why would you, Killian? You’re not even close with Luka.”
Killian von Orpheus laid bare his feelings with candor.
“Because I despise watching the two of you flirt alone. I’m joining in.”
Petty jealousy.
Yet knowing that Killian von Orpheus could unleash far more terrifying jealousy whenever he wished, Artia nodded with resignation.
“Fine, then.”
After the long conversation ended, Killian von Orpheus rose from his seat.
Though they had been lovers for four years, they had never once spent a night together.
It was entirely Killian von Orpheus’s doing.
Once, Artia had asked him.
“How can you leave like that? Don’t you want to spend more time with me?”
Toward Artia, whose lips pouted as she wondered if her feminine allure was insufficient, Killian von Orpheus spoke.
“Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to control myself.”
“…!”
“So I’ll hold you only when it’s right for us to have a child.”
At his utterly unexpected words, Artia’s face flushed crimson.
After that, she ceased her complaints on the matter.
Beneath the dark night sky, watching Killian von Orpheus’s black hair flutter in the breeze, Artia spoke.
“See you tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
Killian von Orpheus answered with his confession, his eyes softening into crescents.
Beneath the moonlight, the man’s smiling face was breathtakingly beautiful.
Artia barely restrained the urge to hold him back and beg him not to go.
Tomorrow was far too important a day for that.

* * *

The Grand Chapel of the Imperial Palace.
Killian von Orpheus sat upon the dais, crowned.
Despite his youth, an imposing imperial majesty radiated from him.
Killian von Orpheus opened his mouth.
“Artia, come to my side.”
At other ceremonies, Killian von Orpheus summoned nobles with the phrase “ascend the dais,” but he reserved this affectionate phrasing for one person alone.
And now, no one in the realm remained ignorant of that fact.
Beneath the gaze of the nobility, Artia stepped forward.
As she walked, she beheld the faces of those watching her.
Marigold, Dahlia, Frigia, Penelope, Evangeline, her two uncles, and even the Bluerance Countess Family, who had traveled from afar, were present.
She passed through countless eyes gleaming with joy, respect, pride, and affection, until she reached Killian von Orpheus.
The moment their eyes met, Killian von Orpheus’s golden gaze softened.
It was the look of a man, not an Emperor.
He made no attempt to conceal this transformation as he spoke.
“Artia, for the past four years you have served as interim head of House Edenberg with exceptional capability.”
Killian von Orpheus spoke only truth.
Artia had given her utmost—a word far too weak to capture her dedication.
It had been arduous, yet profoundly rewarding.
She had learned much, gained much, and at last earned the recognition of the world.
At the Noble Conference held recently, the vote had been unanimous: Artia would receive her title.
“By the authority vested in me as Killian von Orpheus, I hereby grant Artia succession to the Dukedom of Edenberg.”
Killian von Orpheus placed his scepter upon Artia’s shoulder as she knelt, then withdrew it as he spoke.
“You are henceforth Duke of Edenberg. I trust you shall walk a path of brilliance and glory befitting that name as a Duke of the Empire.”
It was the first moment in imperial history that a woman ascended to a ducal title.
The nobility held their breath at this historic instant.
Several women, including Evangeline, wept with overwhelming emotion.
Artia’s eyes too grew slightly red.
Yet she did not cry.
She smiled with quiet confidence and spoke.
“I shall be a Duke who does not betray your expectations, Your Majesty. Please watch over me.”
“I will become a duke who does not disappoint Your Majesty’s expectations. Please watch over me.”

That night, a celebration was held at the Edenberg Estate.
It was a gathering to congratulate Artia on becoming Duke.
All those close to Artia had assembled, and their numbers were staggering.
It seemed as though every noble in the capital had come.
They offered their sincere congratulations on Artia’s elevation to the dukedom, and among them, Cecilia was the most visibly excited.
“Duke of Edenberg—it’s truly magnificent!”
“You think so?”
Cecilia exhaled a warm breath and gazed at Artia before uttering something shocking.
“I want to become Count Golthus!”
Everyone nearby froze in place.
Count Golthus himself spoke with a startled expression.
“Your ambition is admirable, but we have Jeremy in our family, do we not?”
Months ago, Marigold had given birth to a child.
A healthy boy.
Everyone in the world believed Jeremy, being male, would be the heir to House Golthus. Even Count Golthus himself.
But Marigold’s thoughts differed.
“My, I never intended to give Jerry such a title in the first place.”
“…!”
Count Golthus’s eyes widened at such an unconventional statement.
“What good is a title? All it brings is endless rivalry with other noble families, constant summons from the Emperor, and work so grueling it makes you bleed from the nose just to keep the family afloat.”
Marigold continued, thinking of the baby sleeping peacefully back at the estate.
“I want Jerry to live comfortably, free from such hardship. If Cecilia takes the title, I’d be grateful.”
Count Golthus asked, looking as though he’d been struck.
“Are you sincere?”
“When have you ever seen me lie?”
Cecilia chimed in.
“That’s right—Mother never lies! She even told Father recently that his belly has gotten as round as a tadpole’s.”
“…”
Count Golthus gazed at Marigold and Cecilia with an indescribable expression.
The two no longer seemed like strangers. They appeared as an ordinary mother and daughter.
The days when they had been awkward with each other felt like ancient history.
Count Golthus’s expression grew almost tearful before he cleared his throat with a soft sound and spoke.
“Regardless, I cannot hastily decide who shall receive the title at this gathering. I do not yet know what Jerry’s wishes are.”
Cecilia asked pointedly.
“If Jerry says he wants to be Count, will you give it to him?”
“Cecilia, your father is not such an unsophisticated man.”
Count Golthus spoke with the gleam of a businessman in his eyes.
“I shall pass the title to whichever of you proves more capable.”
Only then did Cecilia’s expression brighten.
“Good. I’m confident.”
Marigold called out playfully, “Cecilia, you can do it!”
Meanwhile, Frigia was surrounded by numerous women.
A few months ago, Frigia had separated from the Edenberg Company and launched her own clothing business.
She was searching for talented individuals to work alongside her, and many noblewomen had expressed interest.
This was largely due to the fading notion that working women lacked dignity.
Frigia spoke with a beautiful smile.
“Those who wish to work with me are welcome to visit my estate. I will conduct formal interviews before making my decision.”
The unfamiliar word “interview” caused the women’s expressions to brighten with anticipation.
It felt as though they were stepping into something momentous.
Elsewhere, Penelope engaged the women in conversation with her characteristically booming voice.
“Pepe, why have you become so beautiful lately?”
Penelope spoke with pride.
“My husband—well, that man—I don’t have to look at his face anymore, and somehow my skin just glows without me doing anything~.”
Penelope had recently divorced.
With so many nobles divorcing in recent years, it was no longer considered particularly unusual.
Dahlia, who had been observing the scene in the banquet hall, chuckled softly.
With her hair cut short and dressed in a daring formal gown, she spoke.
“The world has truly changed in the most amusing ways.”
Women now boldly demanded divorces, pursued careers, and coveted titles.
And it was Artia who had brought about these transformations.
“Duke of Edenberg.”
At Dahlia’s words, Artia’s face flushed crimson.
“In a setting like this, please just call me Artia.”
“I don’t want to. Duke of Edenberg—it has such a nice ring to it.”
She continued.
“May I use your name for the protagonist of my next work?”
“My name?”
“Yes, it’s a story about a princess who was never recognized as the royal heir, but finally becomes queen.”
Artia’s eyes widened, and she broke into a radiant smile.
“To appear in RedLip’s novel would be an extraordinary honor.”

The atmosphere in the Banquet Hall had grown ripe with anticipation.
Everyone laughed and chattered.
Then a man appeared in that space.
It was Killian von Orpheus.
The moment he entered, the very air transformed.
People fell silent and turned to gaze upon him in unison.
He wore not the Emperor’s ceremonial robes he typically donned, but an immaculate black suit devoid of ornamentation.
The way the tailored garment clung to his frame rendered him beautiful as an emissary sent by the goddess of night, yet an overwhelming aura of dominance radiated from him.
Killian von Orpheus walked toward Artia and spoke.
“Thank you for inviting me, Artia.”
The people nearby gasped in small exclamations.
The Emperor speaking so casually! And calling her by her given name, not her title!
Only Artia remained unshaken, laughing with amusement.
“I should be thanking you for attending, Killian von Orpheus.”
At the sight of her addressing the Emperor so freely by his name, people’s eyes widened further.
Amidst the bewildered atmosphere, Killian von Orpheus extended his hand.
“Will you dance with me?”
“I would be delighted.”
The two clasped hands.
The perceptive orchestra, which had paused, resumed their performance. The two moved in harmony with the beautiful melody.
In an instant, the crowd’s expressions shifted from astonishment to admiration for the couple before them.
Receiving their gazes, Killian von Orpheus spoke.
“A pink gown—just like that time.”
“I thought you would remember.”
She wore a dress in a shade similar to the pink gown she had worn at her debutante ball.
Though the design was far more mature than it had been then.
Killian von Orpheus beheld Artia with his eyes.
The eighteen-year-old Artia and the twenty-six-year-old Artia were entirely different.
The fearful girl had become a confident woman.
Yet there was one thing that had not changed.
“You’re beautiful.”
Killian von Orpheus’s upturned eyes softened into a gentle curve.
Artia’s heart raced violently. Despite years spent together, this man’s affection remained devastatingly potent.
Artia opened her mouth, her heart thundering in her ears.
“Killian von Orpheus.”
“Yes.”
“Will you marry me?”
“…!”
Killian von Orpheus stopped in his tracks.
The orchestra, witnessing him, faltered and ceased their music.
Those who hadn’t heard Artia’s voice widened their eyes in bewilderment, wondering what on earth was happening.
Killian von Orpheus stared at Artia with wide eyes and spoke.
“If you become my wife, there will be countless troublesome matters to contend with.”
The nobility would loudly protest—how could the head of a great house become Empress?
Even after overcoming their opposition and ascending to the throne, a cascade of hardships would follow relentlessly.
The position of Empress was not one where one could simply idle away in comfort.
Artia laughed with refreshing brightness.
“There’s no problem at all. I’m incredibly capable, you know.”
“….”
“So please, allow me to stand by your side.”
When you feel lonely, I’ll hold your hand.
When you grow weary, I’ll offer you my shoulder.
When you’re afraid, I’ll vanquish every shadow for you.
When you’re sorrowful, I’ll comfort your back.
So….
“Please become my husband, Killian von Orpheus.”
An Emperor must never weep.
Least of all before others.
Yet Killian von Orpheus found it impossible to restrain himself.
Tears glistened faintly in those predator-sharp eyes before softening into something luminous and gentle.
Like a child who had wandered alone through a cold winter world and finally discovered spring, radiantly.

– In Search of the Duke’s Husband: Complete

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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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