The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 46

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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 46

Artia, her dark teal hair catching the light, spoke to Humphrey.
“Mother always used to say that my presence by her side helped her endure the suffering of her illness.”
Artia possessed no special power in herself.
It was simply that, being the beloved daughter she was, a miraculous strength had emerged from that love.
Then, could not the same be true for another?
“I deliberately dyed my hair this dark teal color. I thought that if Aunt could see even a resemblance to the daughter she lost so long ago, perhaps it might bring her some small measure of comfort.”
It was an absurd and audacious proposal.
Fortunately, Humphrey did not rage at her for daring to imitate his dead daughter. Yet neither did he show any enthusiasm for Artia’s suggestion.
Artia continued speaking to the bewildered Humphrey.
“If Aunt dislikes seeing me, I will apologize at once and leave the mansion. But if Aunt finds even a little comfort in my presence, please accept my proposal.”
Humphrey’s eyes wavered intensely.
Though he wanted to dismiss such nonsense, Artia bore far too striking a resemblance to Juliet.

* * *

Humphrey opened the chamber door.
In the darkened room, curtains drawn tight, lay an emaciated woman.
It was Helen, his wife and the mistress of House of Bluerance.
Twenty years ago, with her daughter’s death, she had abandoned all such duties.
Humphrey frowned upon seeing the medicine bottles left untouched on the table.
“You haven’t taken your medicine again.”
Helen opened her eyes weakly.
From lips as withered as autumn leaves came a voice colder than winter itself.
“Darling, please don’t have any more medicine prepared. Don’t call the Doctor either. It’s all useless.”
“Helen!”
“Since I lost Julie, my life has been nothing but hell. I wish to depart now. I want to go to the afterlife and see my daughter’s face again.”
Helen, having spoken such sorrowful words, closed her eyes once more.
When she slept, at least in her dreams she could see her daughter.
She looked exactly like a dead person.
Humphrey gazed upon his wife with a heart torn to shreds, then seemed to steel himself and opened his mouth.
“Helen, there is someone I wish to introduce to you.”
“….”
He continued speaking as Helen remained motionless.
“Come in.”
The old door creaked open—one that rarely opened except when my husband came and went—and footsteps echoed through the chamber, yet Helen kept her eyes firmly shut.
A doctor? A pharmacist? A sorcerer? Or perhaps old friends with whom I once shared intimacy?
I had no desire to see anyone.
Humphrey pressed his motionless wife.
“Just take a look.”
“….”
Humphrey was a tender husband, but he possessed a stubborn streak—especially when it came to curing Helen’s affliction.
Desperate to return to sleep as soon as possible, Helen slowly opened her eyes.
Before her stood Artia with dark teal hair, her face radiant with a luminous smile.
“…!”
In that instant, life flooded back into Helen’s once-lifeless, clouded gaze.
Just as Humphrey felt hope kindle within him and began to introduce Artia, Helen suddenly bolted upright in bed and pulled Artia into her embrace.
“Julie!”
“…!”
Both Humphrey’s and Artia’s eyes widened simultaneously.
Helen wept as though her daughter had returned from the underworld itself.
“Julie, my beloved daughter. How I’ve missed you. Mother has longed for you so desperately, so very desperately….”
The tenderness in that voice was so profound that Artia could not bring herself to deny it, and instead remained quietly nestled in Helen’s arms.

* * *

Helen held Artia and wept for a long while before losing consciousness.
Even as she slipped into darkness, she did not release the hand she held—Artia’s hand.
‘I cannot let go….’
Thus, Artia remained pressed against Helen’s side throughout her examination by the Doctor.
Humphrey spoke to Artia, who sat beside the bed with Helen’s hand clasping hers, his expression bewildered.
“Helen truly believes you are Julie.”
Artia was equally taken aback.
What she had intended was for Helen to feel familiarity toward her because of her resemblance to Juliet.
She had never imagined Helen would mistake her for her own daughter.
“How could that be possible?”
Though she had dyed her hair dark teal, they did not look identical like twins.
Their eye colors were different as well.
And above all, Juliet was dead.
John, Helen’s personal physician, interjected.
“I can explain that, madam. It appears that the shock of seeing someone resembling Miss Juliet has caused your mistress to experience a delusional episode.”
“A delusional episode?”
“Yes. In certain respects, one loses touch with reality and perceives things in a distorted manner according to one’s desires.”
“Such…!”
Humphrey’s face went pale. John continued urgently.
“There’s no need for excessive worry. It’s typically a symptom that fades once some time passes and the mind settles.”
Yet despite John’s reassurance, Humphrey’s stern expression showed no sign of softening.
Artia bit her lip as well.
‘She’s already frail, and seeing me has caused her to lose her mind and collapse on top of it all.’
Even if Humphrey struck her with his cane and drove her from the mansion, she would have no grounds for complaint.
As Artia bowed her head, prepared to accept whatever anger came her way, Humphrey’s voice reached her.
“Artia, could you continue pretending to be Juliet?”
“I beg your pardon?!”
Startled by his unexpected words, Artia’s head snapped up.
Humphrey continued, his voice strained.
“I’m not asking you to impersonate Juliet forever. Even for just a short time—I need you to remain at Helen’s side in her daughter’s stead.”
The light in Helen’s eyes when she first saw Artia.
Those warm, radiant eyes—the same as when her daughter was alive—he longed to see them shine that way once more.
“But…”
Seeing Artia hesitate, Humphrey spoke with desperate urgency.
“If you’ll grant me this favor, I’ll give you two billion gold—or whatever sum you ask for.”
The situation had completely reversed from just hours before.
Yet Artia could not bring herself to nod in agreement.
“Even if she’s experiencing delusions, spending time together will eventually reveal that I’m not her daughter. Won’t that cause her even greater suffering?”
John, who had been listening quietly, interjected.
“Your concern is valid. However, the lady has recently refused both food and medicine entirely, placing her in a critical condition. If she could find the will to recover, even for just a few days, and focus on treatment, I believe we could at least stabilize her condition enough that her life is no longer in immediate danger.”
Humphrey nodded in agreement.
“That’s right—you needn’t concern yourself with such matters. Simply pretend to be Juliet, and once Helen’s mind clears, even tomorrow, you’ll receive your promised payment and leave the mansion.”
Humphrey’s gaze burned with desperation and intensity.
It was difficult to believe this was the same melancholic man who had greeted Artia upon her arrival.
Artia’s expression grew troubled.
‘This wasn’t part of my plan…’
She had intended to exploit the Countess of Bluerance’s affection for her daughter, but she had never meant to actually become that daughter.
“Julie.”
The warmth she had felt when Helen embraced her came flooding back.
“My beloved daughter, how I’ve missed you.”
That voice, laden with aching longing, echoed in her mind.
To deceive such a woman weighed heavily on her heart. Fear crept in—the fear that she might inflict even greater wounds upon this pitiful woman.
‘…But if I see this through, I can secure the funds.’
She could prevent the serpent Shylock von Rushian from seizing Ansi Lake, brimming with memories of her mother.
More than anything, the image of that emaciated woman, her skeletal frame barely clinging to life as she desperately called out her daughter’s name, overlapped with the memory of her own mother from childhood.
In the end, Artia made her decision.
‘For however many days it takes, I’ll remain at the lady’s side.’
Hoping to offer her even a measure of solace, Artia nodded.

* * *

The next morning, Helen’s eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw Artia, she pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Julie!”
Artia recalled Humphrey’s words.
“Juliet was so spoiled that even after becoming an adult, she called her mother like a child.”
Mother.
It was a title I hadn’t spoken in so long that it felt foreign and awkward on my tongue.
Yet since I had committed to imitating Juliet, I had to mirror her as closely as possible, so I carefully parted my lips.
“Mother.”
Helen’s face brightened with a radiant smile.
“Yes, my daughter.”
Her eyes held such warmth and tenderness.
Artia felt a bittersweet ache bloom in her chest.

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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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