The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 188

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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 3

Artia’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I’ve heard that His Majesty hasn’t been visiting the Performance Hall lately. It’s also rare to see the two of you together anywhere else. So the noblewomen have been gossiping about it.”
Everything from the extreme claim that they’d broken up, to suggestions that the Emperor was sulking, or that Artia had grown tired of him.
Artia was exasperated.
“They’re saying such things just because we haven’t seen each other for a few days?”
“The interest in both of you is extraordinary.”
Frigia spoke carefully, gauging Artia’s reaction.
“Some of the elderly nobility are even seeing this as an opportunity now that His Majesty is alone, and they’re trying to arrange potential brides for him.”
A vein throbbed visibly on Artia’s forehead.
Under normal circumstances, she could have laughed it off as an amusing story.
But after days of grueling work and the stress of not seeing Killian, her condition was far from ideal.
Artia spoke in a chilling voice.
“It seems I’m still lacking. If there are people openly saying such things.”
The menace in her tone was so palpable that Frigia instinctively shrank back.
‘She’s just like His Majesty when she’s like this.’
Noticing how frightened Frigia had become, Artia belatedly came to her senses and softened her expression.
“His Majesty and I are getting along well. We’re simply not seeing each other for a while because we’re both so busy.”
Frigia was inwardly astonished.
‘His Majesty is being so considerate….’
But it was far too obvious—or rather, to be more honest, Killian followed Artia with the blind devotion of a newly hatched chick following its mother.
Artia was not entirely different, though perhaps to a lesser degree.
‘So that’s why Artia seemed more sensitive than usual.’
Frigia asked carefully, suddenly concerned.
“Are you alright?”
At Frigia’s question, Artia pressed her hand to her chest.
For days, she’d experienced moments when her chest felt suffocatingly tight—like an alcoholic denied their drink.
There were times when she wanted to abandon the performance entirely and run to him.
But she held back.
There was a reason she had to.
Artia spoke with forced cheerfulness.
“It’s bearable. It’s not as though we’ll never see each other again.”
Only four days remained until the performance.
That was certainly manageable.
“What I need to do right now isn’t whine about missing Killian, but ensure this performance succeeds as the Duke of Edenberg.”

* * *

While Artia transmuted her longing into passion, her lover was in a deplorable state.
Since parting from Artia, Killian von Orpheus had spent every night awake, eyes wide open.
As a result, Nocton von Alihas—forced into endless overtime—had finally collapsed on the long sofa tucked in the corner of the Imperial Office, screaming that he’d rather have his head cut off by the Emperor than die from sleep deprivation.
(Throughout it all, Killian had cowered and done his best to look pitiful.)
Even as his subordinate lay unconscious, Killian sat expressionless in his chair, methodically reading through documents.
Thanks to days of work without proper sleep, the mountain of accumulated duties had shrunk considerably. Yet even when there was nothing urgent left, he’d pressed Nocton to dredge up tasks from every corner.
The public marveled at how the newly crowned young Emperor devoted himself entirely to affairs of state, but the reality was entirely different.
Killian simply needed something to focus on.
To suppress the ache of wanting to see Artia.
Yet even with superhuman strength, he remained human, and sleep would occasionally claim him.
Each time it did, Artia appeared in his dreams.
[Killian—.]
She was so beautiful, laughing brightly with her silver hair flowing, that he pulled her into his arms without hesitation.
The soft touch of her skin.
A subtle, sweet fragrance.
Only then could he breathe.
[I love you.]
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He chanted the words like an incantation, kissing every part of her.
Her long lashes, her delicate nose, her soft lips.
He wanted to devour it all.
Greedily and relentlessly.
When he opened his eyes after consuming even her slender fingers, no one was before him.
“Ah….”
Killian von Orpheus blinked slowly, then twisted his face in distress.
More shocking than losing control and falling asleep was the vivid desire he’d witnessed in that dream.
‘If I were to meet Artia like this….’
I would never let her go.
I would hold her until some indefinite future, whispering my love.
‘Unable to even understand her circumstances.’
Chills ran down his spine.
For the first time in his life, Killian felt fear of himself.
“I absolutely cannot meet her.”
There was someone watching Killian as he clenched his fist with a grave expression—Nocton von Alihas, eyes barely open from his corner.
‘What a mess, truly.’
No war, no social barriers, and yet if he missed her so much, he could just go see her. But here he was, digging himself deeper.
Nocton von Alihas pulled the jacket he’d been using as a cover over his head with an exasperated expression.
It wasn’t his problem that someone had fallen into the cursed torment of love. As a single man, he had every right to rest easy.

* * *

Killian von Orpheus saw Artia in his dreams, and when he woke, the longing that seized him was so unbearable that he deliberately stayed awake. But last night, he had lain quietly in bed and fallen asleep.
Today was finally the day!
After a few hours of sleep, Killian von Orpheus rose with his skin restored to its flawless state.
“Begin the preparations,” he commanded.
At the young Emperor’s summons, Nocton von Alihas entered the chamber with a solemn expression. Behind him, dozens of attendants filed in carrying jewel boxes, perfume bottles, and the finest ceremonial uniforms.
Countless attendants swarmed around Killian von Orpheus, beginning to groom him with meticulous care.
It was not merely adorning a person, but crafting a masterpiece with delicate precision.
His face was washed with cool rose water, puffiness was reduced with a cool mask, and his skin was polished to a luminous sheen with cream made from rare whale oil.
The uniform tailored perfectly to his body for this occasion bore buttons crafted from black pearls, and a pale pink brooch resembling Artia’s eyes glimmered across his chest.
Finally, fragrance was applied.
The perfume Killian von Orpheus had carefully chosen was a blend of agarwood and sandalwood—scents Artia had once casually mentioned she favored.
With every strand of hair groomed to perfection, Killian von Orpheus stood before the mirror.
The slight gauntness from two weeks of abstinence and overwhelming duties lent him a decadent air, completing an overwhelmingly breathtaking beauty.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror with cold, piercing eyes.
His lips curved into a slight smile as he spoke in a low voice.
“Let us go to her—my beloved.”
“Let’s go to my girlfriend.”

Montecro Theater.
The grand hall was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, for tonight’s theatrical premiere.
At the heart of that throng stood Artia.
“I’ve been looking forward to this performance as well, Duchess of Edenberg.”
Gone were the dismissive and mocking glances from before. Their eyes now shone with genuine warmth and admiration.
Artia offered an elegant greeting while surveying the crowd around her.
Marigold, who had come with her daughter, let out a soft giggle.
“Looking for your lover?”
A lover—and the Emperor no less!
Artia was momentarily flustered, but Marigold continued with perfect composure.
“You haven’t seen him in two weeks, haven’t you? How much you must be missing him, our Artia.”
Dahlia, standing beside them, murmured with an indifferent expression.
“I actually prefer being apart from my husband.”
“You’re ten years into marriage—how can you compare that to her? She’s in the throes of passionate love.”
Artia listened quietly to her friends’ banter, her cheeks flushed slightly.
It was an undeniable truth, after all.
I longed to see Killian.
‘Of course, today is incredibly important to me.’
This performance was the culmination of a full year’s preparation.
I had poured every ounce of my body and soul into it—my passion had been absolute.
Yet my fervor stemmed from more than mere ambition for success.
I wanted to become someone worthy of the name Duchess of Edenberg, to stand proudly beside Killian.
All my efforts had been for him.
Then it happened.
The bustling theater fell silent as if enchanted.
Killian appeared, his commanding presence announcing his arrival.

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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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