The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 32

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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 32

Nocton von Alihas blinked before asking.
“Did Simon von Rushian perhaps attempt treason?”
“No.”
“Then why on earth did you bring that man to the Imperial Palace…?”
Killian von Orpheus had never bothered to care for those who fell because of him. Trampling over them and moving on was far more common.
Killian von Orpheus spoke to the bewildered Nocton von Alihas.
“That man…”
That man?
That man what?!
Nocton von Alihas stared at Killian von Orpheus’s lips without blinking, but his perfectly formed mouth had already sealed shut.
Only after a long pause did Killian von Orpheus open his mouth to speak in a low voice.
“Dispose of him. Without drawing attention.”
It was the tone of one ordering an eyesore removed from sight.
Then why did you bring him here in the first place, Your Highness?
But if the conversation continued any further, there was a risk that another order to eliminate the innocent Simon von Rushian might emerge.
To prevent such a misfortune, Nocton von Alihas quickly nodded.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After Nocton von Alihas left the room, Killian von Orpheus stood alone, gazing up at the night sky.

A few hours earlier, after finishing today’s work, Killian had transformed into a black cat for the first time in ages.
Out of boredom.
With that thought, his paws naturally carried him toward the Edenberke Estate.
Today, no matter how much I shake those ridiculous toys, I won’t play along. I’ll shred them to pieces with my claws.
…But then she’ll cry, won’t she?
I don’t want that.
The black cat furrowed his brow and leaped onto the windowsill.
But the room beyond the glass was empty.
“…!”
When I thought about it, it made sense.
Artia wasn’t confined to her room like before. And yet, the sight of her absence struck me like a blow.
Just then, voices of maids echoed from the hallway outside the room.
“The lady rejected all those suitors, but she seems to have taken a liking to the gentleman who came today?”
“What can I say? That’s why they’ve met twice already. They even went on a date together.”
“Oh my, I do hope the two of them work out!”
As they spoke, the door opened.
“My goodness!”
When the maid spotted the black cat standing outside the window and cried out in surprise, the cat vanished as if it had never been there.
The black cat bolted forward.
Following the faint scent of cherry blossoms.
Even with heightened senses from the transformation, the city was crowded with too many people.
Yet I could track her with certainty.
Artia von Edenberg.
Soon, the black cat arrived at an enormous Coffee House building.
Killian rarely visited such places, but he knew well enough what they were.
The perfect setting for a man to seduce a woman.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, my long tail bristled upright.
Moments later, Killian returned to his human form and stepped inside the building.
In a secluded corner, there sat the woman I’d been searching for.
Beside some nondescript man who looked like a pile of dust.

Recalling that moment, Killian muttered with irritation in his voice.
“…That bastard dares to sit beside Artia von Edenberg.”

* * *

The next day, a servant from the House of Rushian came to find Artia.
“Lord Simon has safely returned home after receiving treatment at the Imperial Palace. He asked me to convey his apologies and shame for showing you such an unsightly state.”
What a relief.
Artia sighed with relief and sent the servant off with a brief letter and a gift.

「 I’m not so disagreeable as to judge someone who has fainted. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.
I’ve sent you some tea that will help calm your mind and body—please drink it and rest comfortably. 」

Above all, Artia harbored a sense of guilt toward Simon.
Though unintentional, it was I who had drawn Killian into the situation that caused him to collapse.
And even setting that aside, it was only natural to worry about someone who had fallen ill while in my company.
Regardless of how special the person was to me.
Yet upon receiving Artia’s letter, Simon shed tears once more.
“To think you would treat me so kindly, even after witnessing such an embarrassing display….”

Unaware that Simon was experiencing such profound emotion at that very moment, Artia found herself face to face with Catherine.
Catherine’s nagging session had begun again today.
“Are you a grandmother with only days left to live? A widow who sent her husband to heaven? Or perhaps a destitute pauper drowning in debt? What noblewoman wears such a plain, unadorned dress?”
Rather than being wounded by the sharp criticism, Artia’s lips curved upward.
“If Mother is criticizing me that harshly, then I must be dressed exactly as intended. I have no particular desire to appear attractive to men.”
Catherine clutched her forehead.
Though their conversations typically ended this way, today she had no intention of letting it go.
Catherine spoke in a pointed tone.
“Fine, perhaps you can get away with that in front of men. There may be some who find convent-like attire respectable. But are you planning to wear such a dress to the Banquet Hall as well? If you do, you’ll be mocked for looking like a beggar.”
Artia had not attended any gatherings for quite some time.
The same was true even after the divorce. Though invitations arrived frequently, I saw no pressing need to attend.
But….
‘As a duchess in name, an occasion might arise where I must attend a banquet on short notice.’
Catherine was right—the dresses I currently owned would be utterly shameful. Artia, who was beginning to think a decent new dress would be worthwhile, heard Catherine say:
“Let’s go out right now and have a dress made.”
But Artia shook her head.
“I don’t have the money.”
It wasn’t mere words—I truly had no funds.
The authority over the family that the Elders had seized included the right to manage the family’s assets.
The Elders, concerned that I might indulge in extravagance, had reduced my allowance to a bare minimum.
I had to live on less than half of what a typical noblewoman received.
While I could afford the attendance of a maid, eat the foods I desired, and read the books I wished to, purchasing expensive items like dresses was impossible.
“Wretched old crones.”
Catherine spat out the curse and continued.
“I’ll buy it for you.”
Artia’s eyes widened.
Catherine’s circumstances were not so different from Artia’s own.
As a second wife who had failed to bear children, Catherine had received no proper treatment from the family after Benedict’s death.
In name alone she was the Dowager Duchess, but she was treated like a forgotten relic confined to the back rooms.
Lloyd and the Elders alike treated her identically—sending pittances and chiding her to be frugal.
Catherine pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.
“The stress over money has even given me wrinkles.”
Though her skin remained flawless.
Catherine spoke to Artia, who was thinking precisely that.
“That’s why I keep telling you to find a wealthy husband. Love may fade and husbands may die, but money endures.”
Artia was not so naive as to protest such ruthless candor.
“I wouldn’t call it the most important factor, but it’s certainly something to keep in mind.”
Catherine’s eyes widened, then she smiled wryly.
“I thought your head was full of flowers given all the absurd things you say, but I’m relieved to see that’s not entirely the case.”
Catherine took Artia’s hand.
“In any case, just come along with me. I have the means to purchase a dress or two.”

To Artia’s surprise, Catherine led her to a Second-hand Shop.
For a noblewoman, reputation was more precious than life itself. Merely being seen visiting such an establishment could inflict irreparable damage to one’s honor.
Catherine spoke to Artia.
“Don’t worry. This place serves only the nobility, and they guard the secrets of who sells what with absolute discretion.”
True to its clientele, the proprietor greeted them both with impeccable courtesy.
“What an honor to receive your visit. What precious items have you come to donate?”
Calling it a donation rather than a sale—so the transaction wouldn’t seem unseemly?
Artia found herself smiling inwardly at how perfectly this establishment catered to the sensibilities of noblewomen.
Catherine’s Maid presented a large box. Inside lay the dresses Catherine had worn.
The proprietor examined them carefully before speaking.
“Truly exquisite pieces. For donating these, I would be honored to offer you five million gold as a token of our gratitude.”
Just as Catherine was about to nod with graceful acceptance, Artia interjected.
“These dresses, while admittedly aged, possess a timeless design that transcends fleeting trends. They’ve scarcely been worn and are virtually indistinguishable from new. Surely, even accounting for their secondhand status, the price falls considerably short of their true value.”

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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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