The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 64

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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 64

Meeting Evangeline’s gaze, Artia spoke with unwavering confidence.
“I shall return to you as an Ethereal, Aunt.”
Evangeline’s lips curved upward as she witnessed the pink eyes burning with determination—not to flee with tail between legs, but to succeed.
“Then I hope this won’t be our last meeting.”
Those words were the bare minimum of affection she could offer to a niece she hadn’t seen in three years.

* * *

Having left the Edenberg Mansion and settled into the carriage, Artia crossed her arms with a troubled expression.
‘An Ethereal, then…’
I had distanced myself from high society for so long that I possessed almost no information on the subject.
But that posed no real problem.
After all, I had a friend who knew high society better than anyone.

“Welcome, Artia!”
Penelope greeted Artia with open arms.
“I’m sorry for showing up without notice.”
“Nonsense. Haven’t I always told you to visit our home whenever you please, as if it were your own? I’m delighted you’re here.”
Artia’s pale cheeks flushed crimson at such genuine affection.
After the rather boisterous greeting concluded, Penelope led Artia to the Reception Room.
“So what brings you here?”
Penelope’s suspicion was correct—Artia wouldn’t have appeared unannounced without reason.
“Well, actually…”
Artia began recounting the day’s events to Penelope. As she listened with rapt interest, Penelope suddenly spat out her tea.
“An Ethereal?!”
“Yes.”
“Honestly, it would probably be easier to just keep your husband from straying when he’s been away so long he wouldn’t even recognize you if you passed on the street.”
Penelope quickly added with a regretful expression.
“Not that you’re lacking in any way!”
Artia laughed without the slightest hint of displeasure.
“I understand. It just shows how difficult becoming an Ethereal truly is.”
One must possess noble lineage, refined grace, and beauty as mere prerequisites, while also cultivating harmonious relationships with all the ladies of high society.
And among countless women dreaming of such status, only one could be chosen—odds that bordered on the miraculous.
“Still, I intend to make the attempt. Miracles, after all, only favor those who strive for them.”
At Artia’s words, Penelope’s face lit up with genuine delight as she gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“But I don’t know anything about high society.”
Penelope’s eyes sparkled like a cat spotting a fish.
“That’s my specialty.”
With an excited expression, Penelope began to recount the latest happenings in high society.
“No matter what anyone says, the three people who truly lead high society right now are Marigold von Golders, Dahlia von Greg, and Freesia von Elysium.”
These were names that even Artia, who had never participated in social activities, knew well.
For several years now, these young and beautiful noblewomen had been leading the capital’s high society, and because all their names contained flowers, they were also called the “Flower Ladies.”
“What’s frightening is that these three aren’t rivals—they’re in a solid alliance.”
“An alliance?”
“Yes. It started three years ago when Freesia became an Ethereal, then Marigold the next year, and then Dahlia earned the honor of Ethereal after that. Three close friends each becoming an Ethereal isn’t a coincidence. They took turns supporting each other.”
When noblewomen with significant influence in high society joined forces, the synergy was extraordinary.
“This year, the Flower Ladies are holding an enormous number of gatherings centered around Freesia. It seems Freesia is aiming to become an Ethereal for a second time.”
Artia, who had been listening quietly, looked at Penelope and asked.
“What about you, Pepe?”
“Hm?”
Artia continued speaking to the tilting Penelope.
“Don’t you want to become an Ethereal?”
“What?”
“You have plenty of friends too. You’re thoughtful toward people, you tell stories amusingly, you have a wonderful personality, you’re beautiful, you dress well….”
As the endless compliments continued, Penelope’s face went blank.
What is she saying right now? Is this a joke? Or is she just saying nice things to her friend?
Yet Artia’s pink eyes remained infinitely sincere.
Eventually, Penelope’s face flushed crimson as she cried out.
“S-stop…!”
“…?”
“I like myself very much, but I know I’m not remarkable enough to become an Ethereal!”
Though Penelope was expressing that excessive praise felt burdensome, Artia spoke with an innocent expression.
“You are remarkable. Extraordinarily so.”
Artia, you mischievous friend!
Penelope finally couldn’t hold back and pulled Artia into a tight embrace.

* * *

That night, standing by the window, I gazed at the pale moon and murmured to myself.
“The Masked Gathering to select the Ethereal will be held in half a year….”
By then, I needed to become a figure of considerable influence in high society.
The best way to achieve that was to attend social gatherings.
But for someone like me, who found it difficult to face people, such experiences were exceedingly rare.
‘Father and Lloyd have dragged me to a few, I suppose.’
Yet whenever the ladies saw me trembling, unable even to meet their eyes, their reactions were invariably cold.
“To think the Duchess of Edenberg could be so fragile.”
Mockery, contempt, pity.
The glittering banquet hall had been nothing short of hell for me.
‘But not anymore.’
I intended to stride through the banquet hall with the confidence of a rabbit bounding through an open field. There was just one problem.
‘I have nowhere suitable to attend!’
The invitations that had once arrived out of curiosity regarding my divorce had nearly ceased, and most of those that still came were from families hoping to arrange a remarriage with me.
After much deliberation, I reached a decision.
“The tea party at the Imperial Palace in a fortnight. That would be perfect.”
Unlike the gatherings of nobility where personal connections took precedence, the tea parties held at the Imperial Palace sent invitations uniformly to nobles of families with a certain standing.
“With so many noble ladies in attendance, it’s the ideal stage for my return to society.”
My pink eyes gleamed with the fresh brilliance of newly bloomed cherry blossoms.

* * *

The Imperial Palace bustled with activity in preparation for the tea party scheduled for several days hence.
Naturally, Killian showed not the slightest interest in such matters.
Not until Nocton spoke.
“Artia von Edenberg is attending the tea party?”
“Yes, I confirmed her name on the guest list.”
As expected, Nocton ordinarily paid no mind to the women who attended tea parties.
Yet checking the list was pure instinct.
The instinct that if Artia attended and Killian learned of it too late, he would throw a fit demanding why he hadn’t been informed beforehand.
Instinct honed over more than a decade serving the mad prince proved its worth once again.
Killian’s golden eyes, which had been listless moments before, now gleamed with sharp intensity.
‘He didn’t react this strongly even when I reported classified intelligence from the battlefield.’
Nocton clicked his tongue inwardly and followed Killian.
Killian’s long strides carried him to the Banquet Hall, where tea party preparations were in full swing.
The maids gasped at the sudden appearance of the prince, then quickly bowed their heads low.
Don’t make eye contact. One wrong move and the prince with his notorious misogyny might kill you.
In that moment, a gray-haired maid stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“Greetings to the blood of the mighty House of Orpheus.”
She offered the proper court salutation, yet her face was clouded with confusion.
She could not fathom why the mad prince had come here.
A voice, low enough to send chills down her spine, reached the maid’s ears from behind.
“I came to see how the preparations are progressing.”
“…?”
She heard it clearly, yet comprehension eluded her. The words were that strange.
Why would His Highness concern himself with the preparations? And for a tea party where only women gathered, no less?
Killian, indifferent to the maid’s thoughts, surveyed the Banquet Hall before speaking.
“Prepare the flowers for the gathering in pink—the shade of strawberries blended with white milk.”
“…?”
“And have all the desserts made with carrots.”
“…??”

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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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