The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 39

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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 39

Killian von Orpheus couldn’t possibly answer truthfully, so he uttered words far removed from the truth.
“I heard rumors that illegal activities were occurring at the Masked Gathering hosted by Baron Crobason, and I became curious. To discreetly investigate the Banquet Hall, it’s more natural to arrive with a partner than alone.”
It was a plausible explanation, yet one question remained.
‘Why did you choose me as your partner?’
Killian von Orpheus, reading the light in Artia’s eyes, added to his words.
“Women at my side make my stomach turn. But you….”
Me?
“You’re relatively tolerable.”
“…?”
Though my doubts weren’t entirely resolved, I found my own answer.
‘Is it because I have so little presence that I’m tolerable?’
Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t treated me with the fear I’d heard rumors about—it was almost as if he had misogyny. Almost.
‘Perhaps having such a faint, barely-there presence is actually useful sometimes.’
As I nodded with a satisfied expression, Killian von Orpheus’s low voice reached my ears.
“Let’s go.”
The Carriage had come to a stop.
While it was proper etiquette for a gentleman to offer his hand to a lady, Killian von Orpheus, having already descended from the Carriage, stood with an arrogant expression, perfectly still.
‘I should be grateful that he rode in the Carriage with me at all—a man who glares daggers at any woman he so much as makes eye contact with.’
Besides, I had never particularly enjoyed being escorted every time I rode in and out of a Carriage.
But attempting to descend alone, one problem arose.
The piercing gaze of Killian von Orpheus fixed upon me.
‘Why is he staring at me so terrifyingly?’
Thinking it was a silent pressure to hurry down without being troublesome, I quickened my steps.
But then….
“Oh!”
I accidentally stepped on the hem of my dress, and my body lurched.
Fortunately, I quickly regained my balance, and my eyes widened.
Just a second before, Killian von Orpheus, who had been standing with such a cold gaze that I questioned whether we were even companions, was now extending his hand toward me.
‘Could he have been trying to catch me?’
I looked up at Killian von Orpheus with startled eyes, and I recalled something I’d heard once.
“I hate wounded women most of all.”
Of course—someone he already disliked would be even more repulsive if they appeared in an unpleasant state.
Understanding this, I let out a small laugh.
“Thank you.”
Regardless of intent, the fact remains that he was trying to help.
Killian von Orpheus stared at Artia for a moment before turning his gaze away.
“Come.”
“Yes.”
Artia followed quickly in Killian von Orpheus’s footsteps.
Moments later, the tightly sealed doors of the Masked Gathering swung open.

* * *

The moment I stepped into the Masked Gathering, I was taken aback.
It was nothing like any gathering I had attended before.
Only candlelight illuminated the dim interior, not the brilliant glow of chandeliers.
Tables overflowed with bottles of liquor rather than floral arrangements, and the acrid stench of tobacco smoke permeated the space instead of fragrance.
The people themselves were far more shocking.
Those wearing masks had their shirt collars undone, spewing curses loud enough for all to hear, engaging in blatant physical intimacy—a complete spectacle of debauchery.
‘Oh my!’
Since Lloyd and Lirika, this was the first time I had witnessed such passionate displays of affection with my own eyes.
‘No, I can’t show any sign of panic or I’ll look suspicious.’
I desperately tried to calm my racing heart as I glanced at Killian von Orpheus.
His black mask obscured his face, but he showed no reaction whatsoever—as indifferent as a stone on the street.
‘Of course, His Highness wouldn’t be startled by something like this.’
A man who had laughed while staining his hands with the blood of thousands.
No one in this world could shake a man as arrogant and formidable as that black panther.
Or so I thought.
A woman wearing an ornate mask and displaying her figure with confidence approached.
“Oh my, oh my, even with half your face hidden by that mask, what a devastatingly handsome man!”
“….”
“And that body.”
The woman raked her eyes over Killian von Orpheus from head to toe, then extended her tongue to lick her crimson lips.
Like a dog spotting a succulent piece of meat.
“Would you like to play with me tonight?”
Just as the woman moved toward Killian von Orpheus, I stepped in front of her.
“No.”
The woman’s eyes sharpened, her initial surprise quickly fading.
She had known all along.
That a woman in a white mask had been standing beside the man in the black mask from the very beginning.
Yet she had still approached him because she was confident.
Confident that she could crush a woman who was pale and utterly unremarkable.
“You seem new here. In this gathering, a ‘partner’ means nothing. People pair off as they please, following their desires and instincts.”
Ah, I see. I respect the rules of the Masked Gathering.
Do whatever your instincts command—spin in circles, belt out songs, indulge every whim. But don’t you dare lay a finger on this one, or your head will roll.
Artia had no desire to witness such a catastrophic scene unfold.
‘It seems polite words won’t work here.’
Sometimes you had to play rough.
“…?!”
The woman’s eyes widened.
Behind her white mask, her gaze gleamed with a dangerous edge.
Artia opened her mouth.
“He’s mine.”
“…?!”
Artia thrust her fan toward the woman.
“Touch him, and….”
The fan swept left and right.
As if slicing through the woman’s neck.
“You die.”
“…?!”
Even in a place like this where one could indulge in debauchery, she remained nobility at heart. The vulgar words—ones she’d never heard in her life—struck the woman like a physical blow, contorting her face.
When the woman regained her composure and glared at Artia, her pink eyes blazed with a madness that far surpassed anything from moments before.
The woman understood then.
‘She’s crazier than I am!’
Instinctively sensing that confrontation would only bring trouble, the woman spat out an irritated “How pathetic” and spun away.
After the woman departed, Artia slowly turned to gaze at Killian von Orpheus.
Then, toward the masked man whose expression remained utterly inscrutable, she lowered her head.
“I apologize. Please forgive me.”
“For what?”
“For speaking so presumptuously about Your Highness. For saying he was… mine.”
“….”
The words had tumbled out in panic—desperate to prevent an innocent woman from meeting a terrible fate at the hands of this mad prince, simply because she possessed the uncanny ability to recognize handsome men even through masks. But now, in hindsight, the recklessness of it all made her dizzy.
No matter how relatively reasonable Killian von Orpheus might be, Artia was still a woman.
From his perspective, it must have felt as though a hideous monster had just claimed ownership of him.
‘Perhaps he’ll even take back what he said about being relatively reasonable.’
Artia studied Killian von Orpheus’s expression with barely concealed dread.
But contrary to her expectations, he….
“It doesn’t matter.”
…What? That’s it?
No menacing glare? No suffocating aura of terror? No drawing a hidden blade to separate her head from her shoulders? Nothing like that?
Surprisingly, Killian von Orpheus emanated no displeasure whatsoever.
In fact, quite the opposite….
‘Is the corner of his mouth turning up slightly?’
“It looks like the corners of her mouth are slightly turned up?”
Ah, I must be mistaken.
Artia dismissed the absurd thought and spoke.
“Then, if a situation like that arises again, would it be alright if I protected Your Highness?”
“You’re not trying to protect the other woman instead of me?”
Artia readily affirmed his words.
“That’s right. But my desire to protect Your Highness is sincere. You suffer greatly when unfamiliar women touch you.”
“….”
Killian von Orpheus’s misogyny was legendary. Many people took extreme care not to displease the ill-tempered prince.
Yet behind his back, they criticized and mocked him. Some even refused to believe it, questioning whether any man truly despised women.
But Artia did not.
‘She would protect me….’
It was the first time he had heard such words.
Killian was grateful for the mask. He did not wish for her to see his expression at this moment.
Killian spoke in a cold voice.
“Very well. Do as you wish.”

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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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