The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 90

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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 90

‘How could she make such an expression?’
Frigia’s emerald eyes were filled with confusion.

Meanwhile, Artia was thinking like a grandmother watching her granddaughter play tricks.
‘She’s lovely.’
Count Elysium was one thing, but Frigia’s beauty was truly remarkable. Even without any particular affection, merely looking at her was a feast for the eyes.
At that moment, a man approached Artia.
“Good evening, Duchess of Edenberg. What a pleasant surprise to meet you here. I am Richard von Genepic.”
It was a name Artia already knew well.
‘The man who sent marriage proposals three times.’
He was ten years her senior, the second son of House of Genepic, and had been widowed several years ago.
Richard extended his hand with a butter-smooth smile.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
Though his invitation was impeccably courteous, Artia shook her head.
“Thank you for the offer, but I must decline.”
For a moment, Richard’s eyebrows twisted, but he quickly composed himself.
“Please, just one dance. Standing alone without a partner while everyone else is dancing—isn’t that rather lonely?”
“Fortunately, it is not. I have always preferred to observe.”
“Come now, just one dance. The Duchess of Edenberg may not care, but when a woman of a certain age stands alone like this, people will gossip. They will make her a laughingstock.”
The moment Richard extended his hand to Artia… with a tremendous crack, his hand was struck away.
Though the pain was as if his entire hand might fly off, Richard did not cry out—only his gentleman’s pride kept him silent.
Richard, clutching his hand which had turned bright red in an instant, glared at whoever had struck it.
“Who dares to—Eek!”
Richard’s face, filled with rage, instantly drained of color.
“Y-Your Highness the Prince?!”
The man looking down at Richard with arrogant and fierce eyes was Killian von Orpheus.
It was not only Richard. Everyone in the Banquet Hall wore expressions of shock.
In the silence that seemed to freeze time itself, Artia asked with a bewildered expression.
“Your Highness, what brings you here?”
“I received an invitation.”
Since this was a gathering meant to showcase the prestige of House of Elisium, invitations had been sent to all the nobility in the Convent. The list included the Imperial Family.
However, it was merely a formal courtesy to the Imperial Court, and no one had genuinely expected the Imperial Family to attend.
‘And of all people, it had to be Prince Killian von Orpheus!’
Count Elysium and Frigia, who had stopped dancing and hurried over, bowed their heads respectfully to Killian von Orpheus.
“I pay my respects to the noble bloodline of the House of Orpheus. We are deeply honored by your esteemed presence.”
A bead of cold sweat formed on Count Elysium’s forehead, which had been so confident just moments before.
Even for a high-ranking nobleman like him, Killian von Orpheus was an impossibly difficult figure to face. All the more so in a setting like this, where encounters with him were rare.
Unlike Count Elysium, who was so tense he could barely breathe, Killian von Orpheus opened his mouth with an expression that bordered on boredom.
“I heard from that fellow earlier that this gathering requires one to attend with a partner. Does it become ridiculous if one comes alone?”
The man sprawled on the floor and Count Elysium simultaneously cried out, their faces drained of all color.
“N-no, that’s not it at all!”
Even if Killian von Orpheus had arrived in nothing but undergarments, no one would dare criticize him—unless they wished their heads severed and themselves dispatched to heaven this very night.
Yet Killian von Orpheus, uncharacteristically, furrowed his brow.
“I find myself rather concerned about it. I’m the type to be sensitive to such things, you see…”
What sensitivity could a mad prince possibly possess—one who had slain people with his blade in a gathering where even foreign royalty were present?!
Faced with Killian von Orpheus’s demeanor, which seemed far more unhinged than the rumors suggested, the crowd felt an extreme terror toward this unknowable being.
In the suffocating atmosphere, Killian von Orpheus extended his hand.
Toward Artia.
“So, would you become my partner for tonight? Artia von Edenberg.”
Why is he suddenly doing this?
Artia wanted to turn away and disappear, pretending she had heard and seen nothing. But she could not bring herself to do so.
The light radiating from Killian von Orpheus’s golden eyes was far too intense for that.
There was no one in this world who could defy those eyes.
Whether from fear or enchantment.
Artia, as if bewitched, placed her hand over his.
The moment her skin touched his cool hand, her breath caught without her realizing it.
‘If I hadn’t been wearing gloves, my heart might have stopped.’
Artia walked toward the Hall beside him, hoping he could not hear the thundering of her heart.
The moment Killian von Orpheus and Artia stepped into the Hall, the perceptive orchestra, which had paused, resumed playing. Once again, it was a piece expressing passionate love.
Within the sickeningly sweet strains of the music, Killian von Orpheus and Artia began to move in step with one another.
The onlookers wore expressions of shock, as though witnessing something that should never come to pass.
‘The prince, known for his extreme misogyny, is dancing with a woman?!’
Penelope and Artia’s other friends fidgeted anxiously, wondering if they should risk their lives to tear Killian von Orpheus away from her.
‘What if the mad prince suddenly regains his senses and severs Artia’s wrist?!’
Artia herself, however, maintained a composed expression.
She was tense, but not afraid at all.
She knew that Killian von Orpheus’s virulent misogyny vanished whenever he was in her presence.
He had approached her multiple times, spoken to her first, and laughed softly. If Artia had been uncomfortable, none of that would have been possible.
Artia was certain of it.
‘His Highness must feel truly at ease with me. So much so that he doesn’t perceive me as a woman at all.’
But what was I to do about this?
I was not at ease with him.
To be certain, it was not some special feeling like love.
I had simply become aware of his gender—something I had forgotten out of fear.
That was the problem.
Killian von Orpheus possessed a devastating charm—like a summer night when even the air trembled with intoxication.
Any being capable of loving a man would be drawn to him, transcending age, preference, and station.
‘So this is inevitable.’
My grip tightened on his hand, my heart thundered, heat flooded my face—all purely instinctive bodily responses.
Just as one finds pleasure in the crisp snap of a carrot, or the thrill of reading RedLip’s novels.
As I struggled to suppress my rising excitement, Killian von Orpheus’s voice reached me.
“You met Calvin, I hear.”
My eyes widened. Rather than ask how he knew what even my friends didn’t, I answered honestly.
“Yes, my aunt arranged the meeting.”
“How was he?”
“A dignified and refined gentleman. Simply not to my taste.”
“You said you preferred bright, kind men.”
“You have a remarkable memory. Though there was something I didn’t mention then.”
I turned slightly, then met Killian von Orpheus’s gaze once more as I continued.
“I also value appearance quite highly.”
For some reason, the corners of Killian von Orpheus’s eyes curved subtly upward in that moment.
As though he had heard a most pleasing answer.

Meanwhile, those watching Killian von Orpheus and me dance were shifting from shock to admiration.
Contrary to expectations, Killian von Orpheus neither glared at me fiercely nor cast me aside with displeasure.
As he danced with grace while holding my gaze, the women in the hall (and some men as well) flushed crimson.
“Though I knew it well, I find myself marveling anew at His Highness’s appearance. He seems far too magnificent to exist in reality.”
“I even pinched the back of my hand to see if this were a dream. It hurt.”
Their excitement soon transformed into envy.
“I cannot fathom how the Duchess of Edenberg came to be chosen by His Imperial Highness, but in this moment, I envy her desperately.”
“Even if my hand were severed, I would wish to stand in her place when His Highness regains his senses after the dance.”
Every gaze, every whisper of attention and longing in the Banquet Hall turned toward Killian von Orpheus and me.
Count Elysium, suddenly reduced to one among countless spectators, clenched his teeth with a twisted expression.

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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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