The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 186

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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
Side Story 1

Side Story 1: For You

* This story takes place before Artia received her ducal title.

Killian von Orpheus.
The newly crowned young Emperor had no wife. He didn’t even have a fiancée.
Yet no one dared to covet the seat beside him.
Everyone knew that Killian and Artia were lovers.
The two made no effort to hide their meetings. As a result, whenever the nobility gathered, they were busy recounting sightings of the couple.
“Do you know what I saw when I went to the cafe? His Majesty and the Duchess of Edenberg were sitting across from each other!”
Up to this point, it was a fairly ordinary scene.
“But then His Majesty wiped the cream from Artia’s lips with his finger!”
But it didn’t end there.
“His Majesty slowly licked the cream from his own finger, then smiled and said… well!”
The woman clutched her chest as though she might faint on the spot, then concluded solemnly.
“You’re sweeter than this, Artia.”
The seated women fell into stunned silence as if doused with cold water, then let out shrieks.
“Gasp! Shouldn’t that be reported as assault on the heart?”
“His Majesty is a fool. A fool who knows nothing but Artia!”
The women, having forgotten all pretense of noble dignity, flushed crimson and exhaled heated breaths.
Many nobles had originally disapproved of Killian and Artia’s relationship.
It was because of her one divorce.
“A woman like that cannot become Empress!”
The nobles feared Killian too much to voice their opposition openly. Instead, as if by agreement, they pretended not to know of the couple’s relationship and turned away.
But not everyone was like that. Particularly some women who dreamed of love and romance enthusiastically supported Killian and Artia’s romance, as though they had stepped straight out of a romance novel.
“But what’s wrong with being divorced?!”
“Since she’s been through it once, she’ll do better. We should favor experienced candidates!”
Had Killian known, he might have applauded such peculiar logic with a cold expression.
In any case, the women’s hearts were sincere.
“His Majesty, who used to glare at every woman as if he’d kill her, is remarkably tender whenever he’s with the Duchess of Edenberg. I do hope we’ll continue to see the two of them together more often.”

* * *

Regardless of the women’s enthusiastic cheers, Killian von Orpheus’s expression remained as frigid as a winter wind.

“I will assume the ducal title only when the entire world acknowledges that Artia von Edenberg possesses the qualities worthy of such a position.”

On the day Killian von Orpheus ascended to the throne, Artia had spoken those words. And she had kept them.
Artia was consumed with work.
She commanded the House of Edenberg, cultivated relationships with the nobility, and threw herself into her enterprises. They managed to meet and spend time together whenever possible, but those moments were dwindling with each passing day.
Enough to leave him famished.
“It’s not enough.”
Killian von Orpheus rose quietly from his seat, his true feelings laid bare.
Nocton von Alihas, who had been attending him, spoke in surprise.
“Your Majesty, the Minister of Internal Affairs will be arriving shortly.”
“Cancel the meeting. Have them implement my decisions as I’ve directed.”
No matter how capable Killian von Orpheus was, his actions had become far too autocratic.
Nocton von Alihas’s face registered alarm, but Killian von Orpheus transformed into a black cat in an instant and slipped out through the window.
Left standing alone, Nocton von Alihas muttered quietly to himself.
“Utterly willful, like some spoiled feline.”
Nocton von Alihas’s language had grown increasingly crude since he began serving the young Emperor.

The black cat arrived at the Montecro Theater.
Once the most renowned venue in the Convent, it was now bustling with preparations for a performance scheduled to open in a few days.
Though many people milled about, Killian von Orpheus spotted Artia instantly.
“Lower the lighting in this section, please. I want the moment when the heroine sheds her tears to be as beautiful as stars embedded in the night sky.”
Artia’s crystalline voice resonated throughout the vast Performance Hall.
Her pale pink eyes sparkled as she reviewed the blueprints, her disheveled silver hair carelessly swept back.
Like cherry blossoms in full bloom.
‘Beautiful.’
Killian von Orpheus, having already returned to his true form, gazed at Artia as though entranced.
Fortunately, they were in a secluded corner where few people ventured. Had it been otherwise, many would have been astounded to witness the fierce young Emperor’s eyes burning with such passionate affection.
It was the moment Killian von Orpheus began walking toward Artia like a moth drawn to flame.
A massive shadow fell across his path.
The man with his shirt collar unbuttoned by several buttons, exuding raw magnetism, was Luka.
Undeniably the most popular actor of the age, and….
‘Artia’s devoted hound.’
Luka, who had spent years performing in Leju before returning, had grown remarkably larger in stature.
The masculine nickname had emerged from watching him trail after Artia, the producer, with such devotion.
(Though he himself seemed quite content with it.)
Luka looked down at Killian von Orpheus.
The moment their gazes locked—his golden eyes turning suddenly cold—his broad shoulders trembled involuntarily.
Though his frame had grown larger than Killian von Orpheus’s, instinctive fear still washed over him whenever he saw him.
Still, Luka steeled himself and opened his mouth, pushing past his fear.
“Outsiders aren’t permitted entry. How did you get in?”
Killian von Orpheus had no hobby of conversing with dogs. Yet he deigned to answer anyway.
“I wanted to see my woman.”
“…!”
In that instant, Luka’s pupils trembled. Killian von Orpheus felt a childish sense of victory as he moved to pass him by.
“The performance begins soon, and Artia is extremely busy. Must you really interfere and cause her trouble?”
Should I kill him?
Had he acted on his impulses, Luka would have been dead hundreds of times over.
But Killian von Orpheus couldn’t lay a hand on him. Because Luka was precious to Artia.
Knowing this, Luka desperately mustered his courage.
“Every time you visit the Performance Hall, Artia struggles to focus on her work. And the next day, she exhausts herself catching up on the backlog of tasks.”
Killian von Orpheus’s jaw muscles hardened rigidly.
It was something he had never once considered.
Whenever he became unbearable, he sought her out. They spoke as though the world existed only for them, and sometimes he would take her hand and leave with her.
Artia had never once said she disliked it. She only smiled.
That was why he hadn’t noticed.
In her eyes, which sparkled like cherry blossoms in full bloom, there lay a fatigue she couldn’t quite hide.
Seeing Killian von Orpheus’s coldly hardened expression, Luka clenched his fists.
‘I’m… terrified…’
This time, he might truly die.
Just as a bead of cold sweat rolled down his forehead, Killian von Orpheus vanished like smoke, leaving no trace.
Luka stared at the empty space with wide eyes, then—as tension drained from him—released a long, shuddering sigh and collapsed to the floor.

* * *

Artia returned home as dawn broke.
My body slumped in the carriage like pudding, utterly boneless.
‘I don’t have the strength to move a single finger.’
It was always like this when I worked.
Just a little more.
Just until this one last thing.
Clinging to that promise, the work never seemed to end.
Yet there was one reason I forced myself to stop and return home each night—Killian von Orpheus.
Every evening, he waited for me in my chamber.
In the form of a beautiful man who seemed born of the night sky itself.
Sometimes as an adorable black cat.
No matter how exhausted I was, the moment I saw him, my fatigue melted away and strength surged through me anew.
As I approached the door, vitality bloomed across my face. Even my rose-tinted eyes, dulled by weariness, began to sparkle.
I opened the door, my heart brimming with an entirely different kind of anticipation than what I’d felt at the Performance Hall.
“Nabi!”
I called out the adorable nickname he still found embarrassing.
Yet my cheerful cry echoed through an empty chamber.
I blinked in confusion.
‘Is he playing hide-and-seek?’
Wondering if he was playing such an uncharacteristic prank, I searched the room thoroughly. But there was no sign of him anywhere.
Then I spotted a note resting on the table.
[ You were magnificent today.
I love you, Artia. ]

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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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