The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 35

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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 35

Shylock von Rushian was taken aback by the boldness that shone in those luminous pink eyes.
There were few who dared to conduct themselves with such confidence in the presence of his fury.
And never before had a woman done so.
‘I heard she was a coward who could only stare at the ground….’
The reality was entirely different from what I’d been told.
Her appearance was as delicate as the rumors suggested, yet the energy emanating from her was vivid and unmistakable.
Like a flower that had bloomed after being buried beneath the earth for years.
Artia seized the moment when he lost himself in thought and continued speaking.
“I wondered what urgent business you had, only to find you meddling without the slightest courtesy. I have no desire to face a scoundrel any further, so please take your leave.”
“I refuse.”
“You should go regardless.”
At the woman’s unwavering response, Shylock von Rushian’s lips curved into a crooked smile.
“I said I refuse.”
“Then I have no choice but to help you on your way.”
Artia gestured to Bibi with her eyes.
Bibi seized Shylock von Rushian by the shoulders.
“How dare you lay hands on me.”
Despite Shylock von Rushian’s sharp voice, Bibi dragged him away with an expressionless face.
Soon, his cold composure gave way to bewilderment.
‘How can a woman be this strong!’
No matter how much strength Shylock von Rushian exerted, Bibi’s grip would not release.
In the end, he was dragged away by Bibi and cast out of the Edenberg Mansion.
After Shylock von Rushian departed, Artia approached Simon.
She carefully placed her hand on the shoulder of Simon, who was still trembling with a pale face.
“Are you alright?”
Simon finally came to his senses and nodded his head.
“Y-yes, I’m fine.”
Simon looked at Artia with tears threatening to spill, then bowed deeply.
“I’m truly sorry. When I told him I would no longer meet with the Duchess, my brother became furious and came all the way here.”
“I see.”
“I-I suppose I really am a fool, just as my brother says. I couldn’t even stop him properly, and now I’ve shown you such a shameful sight….”
His trembling appearance made him seem like a child rather than a grown young man. The Maids standing nearby averted their gazes in embarrassment.
Yet Artia found nothing amusing about his state.
Because she saw her own former self reflected in Simon.
Frustrated and disheartened, unable to express what she truly wished to say, Artia reached out.
She took Simon’s hand in hers.
“From the very beginning to the end, you’ve shared your true feelings with me, Simon. Honestly and without reservation.”
It wasn’t as though she’d developed special feelings for a man she’d met merely three times.
Rather, she hoped Simon would break through his hardened shell and emerge anew—the way her former self had once yearned to do.
“You are more confident and admirable than anyone I know.”
It was genuine encouragement directed toward a man whose body had grown while his heart remained trapped in childhood.
“Duchess of Edenberke….”
Artia never could have imagined it.
At her words, Simon’s lukewarm heart ignited completely, blazing into brilliant flame.

* * *

With both Rushians departed for their residence, the Edenberke Estate finally reclaimed its peace!
Though it would last only a single day.
“This is a gift from Simon.”
Bibi’s hands overflowed with a handbag and jewels.
Catherine’s eyes sparkled as she rushed forward.
“Goodness! This is a Louibvrang handbag. And these are natural rubies from Oella. Every single piece is of the finest quality.”
While Catherine basked in delight, Artia’s gaze turned distinctly cold.
Ever since Shylock von Rushian had caused that commotion, Simon had been sending gifts every single day.

「 I send these because I think of the Duchess of Edenberke. 」

along with a bashful letter.
His intentions were far too transparent.
A courtship directed at a woman who had caught his fancy.
‘All I did that day was drive away the wicked Shylock von Rushian and comfort the dejected one—so where exactly did I strike a chord?!’
Artia exhaled a sigh and spoke to Bibi.
“Send all of these back. And from now on, don’t let anything Simon sends into the mansion.”
Catherine, who had been contentedly caressing the handbag and ruby set with a delighted smile, jumped to her feet.
“You’re sending them back again?!”
“Yes.”
“It’s impolite to return gifts!”
“It’s far more impolite to send burdensome gifts without considering the recipient’s position. I don’t wish to accept anything from Simon.”
“If they were cheap trinkets, I’d understand, but why reject such exquisite gifts?!”
“Because they’re exquisite gifts that I must reject.”
“You really….”
Catherine bit her lip and fell silent.
“In your current circumstances, you couldn’t even dream of owning a bag like this. Just accept it!”
“Even if I became a true pauper, I couldn’t accept these.”
“Then give them to me. I’ll use them well.”
Rather than respond to Catherine’s absurd proposal, Artia turned her gaze toward Bibi. Understanding my intent, Bibi approached Catherine.
Catherine clutched the handbag and jewelry box tightly, determined not to let them be taken.
But a noblewoman whose only regular exertion was lifting a teacup stood no chance against a maid whose entire body was honed like a bear’s.
“Pardon me, Countess.”
Bibi smoothly extracted the items from Catherine’s iron grip.
As easily as one might retrieve an object from a sleeping child’s hand.
“You!”
Outmatched in strength, Catherine’s eyes sharpened as she displayed her authority as countess.
Yet unlike the other maids who would bow deeply at the mere meeting of Catherine’s gaze, Bibi remained expressionless and looked toward Artia.
“I shall have them returned through a servant with proper courtesy.”
Artia began to nod but changed her mind.
I had already returned gifts several times and made my intentions abundantly clear—that I wished to accept nothing more. Yet he continued to ignore my wishes.
‘I’m tired of dragging this out. I’ll settle it once and for all.’
Artia rose to her feet.
“I’ll deliver them myself.”

* * *

Artia made her way to the Rusian Baron’s Residence.
Since rain happened to be falling, she carefully navigated through the entrance, taking pains to keep the hem of her dress from getting wet.
True to a family that had engaged in finance for generations and amassed tremendous wealth, the mansion gleamed with opulence.
Everything—the pillars, ceiling, windows, and corridor ornaments—sparkled brilliantly.
‘Yet it feels more ostentatious than beautiful, perhaps because it’s excessive.’
A family that had abandoned honor for wealth.
Recalling the world’s assessment, Artia stepped into the reception room and gasped in surprise.
Simon stood there in a suit embroidered with gold thread, a diamond brooch the size of a fist pinned at his chest, holding an enormous bouquet of tulips.
Simon spoke, his face flushed crimson.
“Welcome, Duchess Edenberke. You cannot imagine how thrilled I was to hear you would visit my home.”
“It certainly shows.”
To anyone’s eye, he looked like a peacock who had meticulously preened himself since early morning.
The peacock extended the bouquet toward Artia.
“I gave considerable thought to preparing a gift for your arrival. I would have liked to give you every flower from the convent, but that wasn’t possible, so I selected the most popular flowers of the season.”
They were lush tulips.
A recent craze among the nobility had driven prices to astronomical heights—a single tulip now cost as much as one carat of diamond.
Contemplating the price of a bouquet containing well over a hundred blooms was enough to make one’s head spin.
Artia made no effort to hide her discomfort and shook her head.
“I apologize, Simon. I cannot accept this.”
“…!”
“I will not accept any gifts—not flowers, nor anything else. That is precisely why I came.”
At her polite yet resolute words, Simon froze as if struck.
After a long moment, he finally spoke.
“Do you… dislike me?”
“No.”
“Then you do feel—”
“No. I feel nothing for you, Simon.”
“…!”
Simon’s expression crumbled as if the entire world had collapsed.
Yet unlike before, he did not simply nod in acceptance.
Simon gazed at Artia with eyes that burned with steely resolve, drawing upon his very soul, and opened his mouth.
“I love the Duchess Edenberke. No—I am in love with you.”

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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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