The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 58

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

In Search of the Duke’s Husband – Episode 58

After a long silence, I finally opened my mouth.
“I’m not entirely sure.”
It was an ambiguous answer.
Yet Catherine didn’t demand a more precise response or reproach me for being cold-hearted. She simply smiled as if that alone was enough.
“Thank you, Artia. I truly mean it….”
With those words, Catherine departed from the Edenberke Estate.
That night, I entered the room where Catherine had been staying.
The table in the otherwise empty chamber—as if no one had ever occupied it—was piled high with documents like a mountain.
Upon examination, they were all records of those who had sent marriage proposals to me.
‘I was always given only a few pages with portraits, so I had no idea there could be this much detail.’
I read through the papers in astonishment.
Each page bore creases from being read multiple times, and notes were scattered throughout.

「 Rumored to strike women X 」
「 Repeatedly failed in business ventures; allegedly in debt X 」
「 Suffers from hereditary illness. Little hope for improvement X 」

Only then did I understand.
The men Catherine had introduced to me were carefully selected candidates for a husband, according to her own standards.
‘Even accounting for that, they were hardly impressive….’
Yet the fact that she hadn’t simply thrust any man at me—that her desire for my happiness was genuine—became a source of comfort.

* * *

A letter from Shylock von Rusian arrived for me.

「 If you will marry Simon, I shall gift you an entire business enterprise from our family. 」

I thought he’d finally come to his senses, but he’s still barking away like a dog doing whatever he pleases.
Artia folded the paper into an airplane and tossed it out the window.
No matter how much Artia ignored him, Shylock von Rusian continued sending letters, and the price of marriage written within them only grew larger.
I could feel a terrifying obsession—a determination to obtain what he desired by any means necessary.
‘I’m starting to get tired of paper folding now….’
Around the time I thought this, the letters stopped coming.
Artia simply assumed that Shylock von Rusian had given up on her.
She never imagined that ‘such a thing’ had occurred.

A few days prior, at the House of Rushian.
Empty bottles lay scattered across the dim room, and Simon sat among them with a haggard face.
With unwashed, disheveled hair and darkened stubble on his chin, Simon looked like a vagrant—all traces of his usual neat appearance had vanished.
Shylock von Rusian, entering the room, furrowed his brow.
“Did you drink all day yesterday and collapse, only to start drinking again?”
Normally attentive to Shylock von Rusian’s mood, Simon answered with slurred speech.
“Yeah, I drank.”
Rather than point out his brother’s shortened words, Shylock von Rusian spoke.
“Get yourself together, Simon. I’ll make that woman your bride no matter what….”
“No, you can’t. You absolutely can’t.”
Simon recalled the look in Artia’s eyes the last time he’d seen her.
Utter contempt.
Simon felt a profound sense of shame alongside the certainty that no matter what he did, he could never restore his relationship with Artia.
And that emotion transformed directly into resentment toward his brother.
Simon glared at Shylock von Rusian.
“It’s all because of you. You ruined everything!”
“Simon von Rushian!”
Despite Shylock von Rusian’s cry, Simon left the room without responding. It was obvious he’d return reeking of alcohol today as well.
“Damn it….”
Left alone in the room, Shylock von Rusian rubbed his forehead and cursed.
Everything had gone wrong.
His obedient brother’s rebellion, and on top of that, society’s condemnation for attempting a forced marriage through dishonorable means.
He’d lost everything without gaining anything.
Shylock von Rusian clenched his fist.
“No, it’s not over yet.”
In the world of money games, losses were inevitable.
The process mattered little.
In the end, the victor was whoever obtained what they desired.
“Even if she’s a foolish woman who doesn’t understand how precious money is, I just need to offer a price that makes her eyes spin. If she still holds her head high, so be it. I’ll simply set another trap.”
A deep and vicious trap from which that small, rabbit-like woman could never escape, no matter what she tried.
Shylock von Rusian’s serpentine eyes gleamed.
“What sort of contemptible thoughts are running through that mind of yours?”
Shylock von Rusian gasped and let out a small cry, lifting his head.
A man had entered the room where he had been alone.
Shylock von Rusian dared not cry out, demanding to know how he had entered without permission.
He recognized at once who the man was—a towering figure emanating the fierce aura of a black panther, his arrogant golden eyes gleaming with predatory intent.
“Y-Your Highness Killian von Orpheus… what brings you to this place…?”
Killian von Orpheus spoke in an expressionless tone, a stark contrast to Shylock von Rusian’s alarm.
“Show proper respect to the Imperial Family.”
It was far more discourteous for him to have entered another’s study without permission, but there was no time to quibble over such matters.
Shylock von Rusian hastily dropped to one knee.
With his head bowed, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
‘How did he even get inside?’
The security of the Edenberg Mansion was rigorous. He could not fathom how anyone could have breached it.
No, that wasn’t the important question.
‘Why has he come looking for me?’
Shylock von Rusian recalled what he knew of the mad prince.
True to his sinister reputation, he had indeed executed numerous nobles, though never indiscriminately.
There was always a fitting reason.
A noblewoman had attempted to seduce him with poison, or conspiracies had been hatched against the Imperial Court.
‘I’ve never done anything like that…’
Quite the contrary—he paid the Imperial Court substantial taxes and gifts every year.
A low voice reached Shylock von Rusian’s ears as he spiraled into confusion.
“You’re the true organizer of Baron Crobason’s gathering, aren’t you?”
“…!”
Shylock von Rusian’s eyes widened before he slowly nodded.
Pointless denial would only cost him his neck; honest admission was far the wiser choice.
“That is true, but… what fault lies in that?”
“Organizing a gathering through the use of others, indulging in drinking, gambling, and even carnal acts like beasts within that hall—such things might be overlooked as a night’s entertainment. However…”
A chilling gleam flickered in Killian von Orpheus’s golden eyes.
“Deliberately luring people into gambling, ensnaring them in addiction, and then burdening them with massive usurious debts—that is problematic.”
Shylock von Rusian cried out as though wronged.
“I merely lent money to those who needed it! I conducted legitimate business, nothing more!”
“Business?”
Killian von Orpheus’s lips curved into a chilling smile.
“Over the past five years, 154 individuals borrowed money from House of Rushian through gambling at that gathering.”
“…!”
“Of those, eleven took their own lives, sixteen went bankrupt, and twenty-five suffer from severe mental illness brought on by stress. Can you truly call that business? It is vile criminality.”
As Killian von Orpheus recited the contents recorded in House of Rushian’s secret ledgers, Shylock von Rusian understood.
Why the prince had come here.
To punish me under the pretext of these loans…!
Shylock von Rusian’s face turned ashen as the weight of realization settled upon him, and he bowed his head in submission.
“Your Majesty, I acknowledge that because such enormous sums of money have flowed through my hands, some weak-willed individuals have met tragic ends. However, I swear to you that I never lent them money with the intention of causing them harm. Please, believe me.”
His voice was so desperate it seemed impossible this was the same Shylock von Rusian who was obsessed with money. And yet…
“Those who borrowed from you must have begged you in exactly the same manner.”
“…!”
Just a little more time, I beg you.
If you would only reduce the interest, I swear I can repay every last coin.
“You never once granted their pleas, yet you dare expect mercy from me? How absurd.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————