The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 82

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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 82

A luxury handbag crafted by a renowned designer, or the pittance of money inside it—such things mattered little to me. But the manuscript was different.
“If I report this to the Public Security Bureau….”
Yet the Public Security Bureau would never mobilize for a noblewoman’s possession, let alone something that wasn’t even a treasure.
If Dahlia revealed her identity as the wife of a high-ranking official, they would launch an investigation. But….
‘Everyone will discover that I am RedLip.’
Dahlia turned her head, her face drained of color.
“That’s absolutely impossible.”
For the same reason, commanding the household servants to search for the item was equally unthinkable.
“What should I do? What can I possibly do?”
As Dahlia bit her lip, she recalled words Marigold had spoken to her some time ago.
“Do you know why Artia is so popular with women? Because she listens earnestly to any concern and offers remarkably astute advice. But that’s not all. She never breathes a word of what’s shared between the two of you to anyone else.”
Marigold, who had enthusiastically expounded on Artia without being asked, continued with sparkling eyes.
“If you ever find yourself troubled, confide in Artia. I’m certain you’ll be captivated by her.”
Dahlia sprang to her feet.

* * *

“Dahlia von Greg has come to visit.”
At Bibi’s words, I felt my expression shift to one of surprise.
Though we had met twice, there remained a certain distance between Dahlia and me.
‘And she’s come so suddenly at that… A woman who adheres so strictly to propriety—what could have happened?’
Sensing something was amiss, I hurried to the Reception Room, only to be startled once more.
Dahlia’s appearance was in complete disarray.
Her dark hair was disheveled, and her dress skirt was caked with dirt.
Most tellingly, her eyes—always so composed—were swollen and red.
Dahlia spoke in a voice that trembled with barely suppressed emotion.
“I need your help finding something.”
Rather than express shock or confusion at her sudden request, I asked her directly.
“What is it you’re looking for?”
Dahlia parted her lips with difficulty.
“…A novel I wrote.”
That a noblewoman—and Dahlia von Greg no less—had written a novel warranted no reaction from me. Instead, I inquired carefully about where and how she had lost it. Though her words came haltingly, Dahlia answered with complete sincerity.
After hearing her full account, I fell silent for a moment, gathering my thoughts, before speaking.
“To find the culprit, we’ll need the help of someone who knows the back alleys well.”
“But I don’t know anyone like that…”
“Actually, there is someone who knows the back alleys intimately and would be more than eager to help you recover your manuscript.”

I led her to the Publishing House where Dahlia had contracted her work.
Dan, the publisher and sole employee, let out a howl upon hearing the full story.
“How dare someone steal the author’s manuscript! That scoundrel deserves to read the book thousands of times until not a single typo or grammatical error remains!”
Dahlia was taken aback.
This was the first time she had seen him so furious—he was usually so businesslike and composed.
‘I thought he would just sigh wearily when he heard the manuscript was stolen…’
But that was not the case.
As Dan roared like a gorilla robbed of its offspring, I spoke to him.
“Shop Owner, I understand your anger completely, but right now finding the culprit is what matters most.”
“Of course. You’re right.”
“Please call together as many people as you can who know this area well.”
“Understood.”
Dan promptly followed my instructions. Shortly after, the office filled with people.
Most of them, like Dan, ran small shops in the back alleys.
I handed them a hastily prepared sheet of paper.
On it was a sketch and description of the culprit, compiled from what Dahlia had told me.
I spoke to them with firm resolve and earnest appeal.
“Please find this child.”
Dan too widened his eyes behind his spectacles as he spoke.
“Whoever finds this child will receive a reward equal to a month’s worth of my sales.”
“Seize them at once!”
At his command, the crowd rushed outside like a pack of hyenas on the hunt. Artia caught Dahlia as she tried to follow.
“If the culprit sees you, they’ll hide. It’s better if you stay here.”
“But….”
“I’ll find your precious belongings no matter what. Please trust me and wait.”
Artia’s face was as docile as someone unable to catch a single ant, and her voice was as soft as a bird’s. She appeared to possess no combat ability whatsoever.
Yet why was it?
‘A conviction bloomed within me that her words would come to pass….’
Dahlia gazed at Artia with eyes threatening to spill tears, then nodded.
“I’m counting on you, Artia.”

* * *

Artia left Dahlia in the Publishing House office and stepped outside.
‘It’s so dark and dreary—the kind of alley that makes you wonder if such a place truly exists within the Convent.’
Artia was also a noblewoman like Dahlia. She knew nothing of back alleys.
Yet there was a method only Artia could employ.
‘The child deliberately targeted a solitary noblewoman.’
Someone carrying valuable items, someone unlikely to give chase.
Then wouldn’t the child likely reveal themselves again if a woman with similar circumstances appeared?
That was what I intended to exploit.
I held a bag in my hand. The large jewel-encrusted purse looked unmistakably expensive at first glance.
‘Please appear….’
I walked in prayer, deliberately choosing sparsely populated areas. How long had I been walking?
A child emerged from the dark alley.
“Beautiful lady, I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday. Please help me.”
The appearance, the words—everything matched Dahlia’s description perfectly.
So you’re the thief who stole Madam Greg’s manuscript!
My heart pounded fiercely.
Yet I didn’t let my excitement show, pulling money from my bag and extending it forward.
“Here, take it.”
“Thank you so much!”
The moment the child’s eyes brightened and they approached, I seized their hand firmly.
The child startled and wrenched free from my grip. Despite months of consistent exercise, my grip strength was pathetically weak. My hand slipped away like limp seaweed, but it didn’t matter.
Bibi, who had been watching me from the shadows, burst forth and seized the child.
Feeling Bibi’s tremendous grip strength, the child froze as if caught by a bear. Meeting the terrified child’s gaze, I asked.
“A few hours ago, whose bag did you steal?”
“I, I don’t know!”
There were countless children wandering the streets stealing things. If one simply denied it, that was the end of it.
I sensed the child would not easily confess to the crime.
Bibi, who was holding the child, spoke in a flat voice.
“Should I extract a confession?”
With Bibi’s skills, making the child talk would not be difficult.
She knew exactly how to inflict the most pain on a person. But….
‘The child is still too young.’
I chose to coax the child instead of resorting to cruel methods.
“There must have been papers covered in writing inside the bag you took.”
“…!”
The child’s small shoulders flinched. I caught that subtle reaction and continued speaking.
“Those papers contain confidential information—secret documents of grave importance.”
“That’s a lie!”
“It’s not a lie. They appear to be written like a novel at first glance, but when the cipher is decoded, the contents are shocking enough to shake the entire nation. That’s why the higher-ups are frantic searching for those documents.”
I whispered in a low voice.
“If we fail to recover the documents, those people won’t spare me—or you, who stole them. So return the documents intact. Then this becomes a secret known only to you and me.”
Though the words were utterly absurd, the child could not ignore them.
Because my eyes held a great fear within them.
The child had been bold enough to steal a noblewoman’s bag alone, yet simultaneously knew how ruthless the nobility could be.
If my words were true, those documents were no different from a bomb waiting to detonate at any moment.
There was no benefit in possessing such a thing.

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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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