The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 83

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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 83

The Child Thief opened their mouth with a twisted expression.
“If… if I return the documents, will you let me go?”
“Of course.”
“And you won’t punish me?”
“No.”
Artia’s pink eyes were clear as she nodded. It seemed impossible for her to tell a lie.
In the end, the Child Thief confessed everything.

* * *

Dahlia sat huddled in a corner of the Publishing House.
The elegant and proper posture she had been taught strictly since childhood had long since crumbled into disarray. She gnawed at her thumbnail and trembled, her legs shaking.
Unlike a bag or money, her manuscript—which served no particular purpose—had likely been discarded or destroyed.
Dahlia let out a scream as she imagined stacks of paper being tossed into burning logs.
“No!
To some, it might appear to be nothing more than the scribbling of a noblewoman with too much time on her hands. But to Dahlia, that manuscript was a precious work scraped together from the very depths of her soul. Incomparable to anything else….
“Please….”
Dahlia clasped her hands together in desperate prayer.
That was when the door burst open and Artia appeared, crying out in a loud voice.
“I found the manuscript!”
“…!”
Dahlia sprang to her feet and rushed to Artia, receiving the bundle of papers.
With trembling hands, Dahlia turned through the pages one by one. Soon tears welled up in her dark eyes.
“It… it’s real. My novel….”
Though slightly crumpled, not a single page was torn or missing.
As Dahlia held the safely returned manuscript to her chest, the tension drained from her and she burst into tears like a child.
Artia gently patted her shoulder as she wept.
After a long while, Dahlia’s tears subsided and she looked at Artia.
Artia’s usually composed cheeks were flushed red, and her silver hair was damp with perspiration.
‘How much she must have run around….’
Artia spoke to Dahlia, whose brows were furrowed with concern.
“Fortunately, the child who stole the bag didn’t discard the papers—they kept them. The quality of the paper was so good that they thought they might use it for something later. What a blessing.”
Looking at Artia’s smiling face, Dahlia thought to herself.
‘You were right, Marigold.’
Artia reacted to others’ troubles as though they were her own. And yet, that demeanor… looked beautiful.
It was when Dahlia gazed at Artia with tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, utterly entranced. The door burst open, and Dan—the Publishing House owner and sole employee—appeared.
“You truly found the manuscript!”
Dan had rushed over after receiving word from Bibi, having scoured the alleys like a crazed gorilla. Upon seeing the manuscript in Dahlia’s hands, he wept hot tears like a gorilla reunited with its young.
“Oh, oh my! You really found it!”
Watching Dan’s convulsive sobs, Dahlia felt her own tears, which had ceased, begin to flow once more.
Artia, observing the scene with quiet contentment, whispered to Dahlia.
“Now that the manuscript is found, I should take my leave.”
“But…”
“You have much work ahead. Please, don’t concern yourself with me—attend to your affairs.”
Dahlia nodded, her expression conflicted.

* * *

Dan, cradling the manuscript as tenderly as a newborn babe, spoke.
“I shall safeguard it with care surpassing even my own life, and ensure its publication proceeds without issue. Thank you for entrusting it to me once again, Author.”
After concluding publication matters with Dan, Dahlia returned to the Edenberg Mansion.
Count Greg greeted his wife with a somewhat displeased expression.
“I heard from the maid who arrived earlier. You were searching for something you’d lost.”
Rather than ask whether she’d found the item, he continued with something else.
“Regardless, it is unseemly for a noblewoman to wander the streets until this hour merely to retrieve some object. Should such a situation arise again, instruct a servant to find it and return home yourself.”
Though Dahlia harbored not a shred of affection for her husband, she maintained the courtesy befitting a wife. Yet today, she found herself unwilling to do so.
Bleh.
Dahlia stuck out her tongue.
‘What did I just do?’
Count Greg, who had never once been subjected to such mockery in his life, found himself bewildered by the absurd expression his wife had displayed, unable to fathom its meaning.
Regardless, Dahlia swept past her broken husband and made for her chamber.
Seated upon her bed, Dahlia removed her shoes first.
Her toes had swollen crimson from a day of walking and running.
“In case it isn’t at the mansion, please take this. It works wonderfully on swollen feet.”
Dahlia recalled Artia’s words and retrieved the salve she had been given.
“How can she be so thoughtful toward others…?”
Such attentiveness could not be achieved through mere intellectual consideration.
It required genuine concern to be possible.
Dahlia murmured as she applied the salve to her toes.
“Truly, my fan is far too kind-hearted.”

* * *

The next day, Dahlia came to find me.
Since we had made plans to meet when parting yesterday, I welcomed her naturally.
“Welcome, madam. Did you rest well yesterday?”
There she goes, worrying about me first. She’s too kind for her own good.
Dahlia spoke with her eyes downcast.
“Thanks to you. How are you feeling, Madam Edenberg?”
“I slept well too. After moving about so much yesterday, sleep came easily.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
It was I who broke the brief silence.
“Yesterday was hectic, so I didn’t get a chance to ask—what do you intend to do about the child who stole your bag?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Actually, I told the child that if they returned the manuscript willingly, I wouldn’t punish them.”
It was a lie I had told without hesitation. In truth, I had no authority to make such a promise. But…
“Stealing your belongings was certainly wrong, but the child is still young. Rather than a severe punishment, wouldn’t it be better to give them a chance to reflect?”
Since I was advocating for the child either way, I watched Dahlia with a tense expression.
I couldn’t blame her if she were angry that I was protecting a criminal who had wronged her.
Contrary to my worry, Dahlia replied calmly.
“How so? Surely you’re not suggesting we simply pretend nothing happened?”
“Of course not. That method would teach the child nothing. Actually, I’ve thought of something.”
I leaned in and whispered my idea to Dahlia. After a moment, she nodded with satisfaction.
“That’s a reasonable approach. Let’s do that.”
“Thank you for accepting my suggestion.”
Dahlia stared at me with a bright smile, then spoke.
“So that’s all? That’s everything you have to say to me?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m asking if that’s truly all you have to say to me.”
Dahlia had received considerable help from me yesterday.
And more than that—when I retrieved the manuscript, I must have realized that Dahlia was RedLip.
Yet I had said nothing about it.
As if I had completely forgotten yesterday’s events.
Of course, such an impossible thing hadn’t actually occurred.
My memories of yesterday were vivid, and I wanted to cry out at any moment: “RedLip, I’m your fan!”
But I held back.
Because I understood that Dahlia wanted to keep all of this secret.
I spoke with a resolute expression.
“Don’t worry, madam. Yesterday’s events have been completely erased from my mind. I won’t tell anyone.”
To help someone and then forget about it without expecting anything in return…
Dahlia looked at me with an expression that seemed to ask how such a creature could possibly exist, then opened her mouth.
“As you say, I don’t wish to share my secret with anyone. So I’ll accept your kindness. Let’s not speak of yesterday’s events again.”
But that didn’t mean we would simply move forward as if nothing had happened.
“So allow me to offer my proper gratitude here and now.”
Dahlia clasped her hands together and bowed her head.
“Thank you, Artia. Your kindness transformed what could have been the most despairing day of my life into one filled with dramatic joy. I swear by my honor that I shall repay this debt with every ounce of effort I possess.”
Dahlia kept her word.
A fortnight later, a book arrived at Artia’s residence. Upon seeing it, Artia let out a small gasp and covered her mouth with her hand.

「 The Noble Prince Is Her Footstool 」

A freshly published new release from RedLip. Not yet available in bookstores!

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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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