The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 93

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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 93

“I was desperate to keep that fact hidden from everyone.”
Whenever a visible wound appeared, I wouldn’t leave my room until it healed.
To the Doctor who came to treat me, I made excuses about accidentally bumping into something—words I never asked him to hear.
But hiding wounds from others didn’t mean I could hide them from myself.
The pain accumulated, and my heart and body withered away.
To the point where I would throw myself into a deep pond.
‘The real me died back then.’
I hoped Frigia would never make such a choice. Truly.
I met Frigia’s gaze and spoke.
“I no longer hide the fact that my ex-husband beat me. The one at fault is not me, but him. The one who should feel ashamed is not me, but him.”
“…!”
Tears had gathered at the corners of Frigia’s eyes.
Frigia wiped her tears with trembling hands and spoke.
“You really do speak well, just as I’ve heard.”
It wasn’t merely pleasant to listen to. My heart was moved.
But still….
“I wish no one knew about my shortcomings.”
A beautiful and noble princess. Her flawlessness is my pride.
Even if that is foolish obstinacy.
Reading the firm resolve in Frigia’s green eyes, I furrowed my brow.
How could I possibly demean her as foolish?
I too had died once, and only after another soul entered my body could I abandon such feelings.
“Don’t worry. I won’t speak of you to anyone.”
My voice carried conviction.
“But if you need help, tell me anything. I’ll do my best to assist you within my means.”
Frigia asked with a confused expression.
“Why are you being so kind to me?”
“….”
“I was cruel to the Duchess of Edenberg. Do you think you should look after me because of Marigold and Dahlia? …Or do I simply look pitiful to you?”
“It’s not like that. I’ve experienced similar pain before, so I simply couldn’t ignore it.”
I continued with a more playful tone.
“And I’m naturally nosy. Though only toward people I care about.”
Frigia read the emotion in her pink eyes.
Pure goodwill.
Frigia lowered her head, barely holding back fresh tears.
“I’ve said all I came to say, so I’ll take my leave now.”
“Please, wait a moment.”
Artia, who had stopped Frigia, turned her gaze toward Bibi.
A moment later, Artia handed Frigia a container that Bibi had brought—a salve she had received from Killian von Orpheus months ago when she’d asked for his help with the divorce.
“I’ve used it myself, and it heals wounds remarkably quickly. Use it whenever you need to.”
It wouldn’t be easy for her to show her wounds to a Doctor, after all.
Frigia, understanding even the words Artia had left unspoken, felt her eyes grow moist. She accepted the container with both hands.
“…I’ll use it well. Thank you.”
With those words, Frigia left the Edenberg Mansion.

* * *

As Frigia had said, I tried not to concern myself with her any further. Yet troubling news kept reaching my ears.
“The Princess has been acting strange lately.”
At Marigold’s words, I asked her a question.
“In what way?”
“She’s been actively participating in High Society as beautifully and kindly as always, but her expression grows dark at times. When I ask if something’s wrong, she only says she’s fine.”
Dahlia spoke up.
“Could it be because House of Elisium’s business has deteriorated? The Nobility has been talking about it quite a bit lately.”
No one spoke of it openly in front of Frigia, but she couldn’t possibly have failed to sense the atmosphere.
Marigold let out a sigh.
“I’d almost prefer it were for that reason, but I’m worried she might be ill. At a tea party a few days ago, her face turned so pale and she broke into a cold sweat that she left early to go home.”
Marigold suspected illness, but I suspected violence.
The image of Frigia being brutalized by her husband in the empty Garden came to mind.
Yet Frigia had made it clear she didn’t wish to discuss that matter any further.
‘If I go to her, it will only make her uncomfortable.’
I deliberately withdrew my concern.
Then one night, when heavy rain was falling relentlessly, Frigia came to find me.
She was not the perfect and beautiful noblewoman I had always seen.
Wet hair, a pale face devoid of any makeup, disheveled clothing.
Most of all, cradled in her arms was a little girl of about four years old.
Frigia spoke through tears that fell harder than the rain.
“Please… help me…”

* * *

After bathing and changing into comfortable indoor clothes, Frigia appeared noticeably more composed.
With her reddened eyes, Frigia gazed down at the small child sleeping on her lap, breathing softly. The girl was her spitting image.
Artia handed Frigia a steaming teacup.
“Please, drink.”
“…Thank you.”
Frigia took a sip of tea. The fragrant peppermint aroma melted away the tension coiled throughout her body.
Artia asked nothing. In the quiet stillness, only the sound of tea being sipped could be heard.
Finally, when Frigia had drained her cup, she spoke.
“People believe I am the princess most beloved by the King of Palenta. But that is not the truth. I have never known love. …My mother, who gave birth to me, was a slave in the Royal Palace.”

Palenta was smaller and poorer than the Empire, yet its rigid hierarchy of status was unforgiving.
No matter that she was the King’s child, the offspring of a slave was a contemptible creature. All the more so if that slave was merely the Emperor’s plaything for a single night.
Frigia grew up in a cramped, decrepit corner room of the Royal Palace, wearing tattered dresses and eating moldy bread.
Save for not laboring, her existence differed little from that of a slave.
Everything changed for Frigia when she turned thirteen.
She happened to encounter the King, whose face she had scarcely seen before. As Frigia prostrated herself on the ground like a slave, the King spoke to her.
“Lift your head.”
Frigia trembled as she raised her head.
The King’s eyes gleamed with an inexplicable light as he beheld his young daughter’s face.
“Ah, how beautiful.”
With those words from the King, everything surrounding Frigia transformed.
She was moved to a bright, clean room bathed in sunlight, and a maidservant was assigned solely to her care.
Each day, the maidservant bathed her, combed her long hair, and dressed her in beautiful gowns. And she taught her etiquette and dance with ruthless severity.
Before long, Frigia became the most beautiful princess in the Royal Palace.
The King smiled with satisfaction.
“Indeed, my eye is infallible.”
“I am honored, Your Majesty.”
“Now, you should call me Empress Mother.”
The King continued, stroking the young girl’s peachy cheeks.
“You are my daughter. So you must grow beautiful and become of service to your father and this kingdom. Do you understand?”
Frigia was moved by the King’s words—words she had never truly exchanged with him before. Transparent tears glistened in her brilliant green eyes.
“Yes, I shall do so.”
Frigia kept that promise. She cultivated her appearance with ruthless discipline.
She ate only the meager portions the maidservant provided each day. Because hot water was said to damage her hair, she washed it in cold water even in the depths of winter. Every day she drank bitter medicine meant to detoxify her body.
With her natural beauty enhanced by such effort, Frigia’s loveliness reached its zenith.
“Tsk. I almost wish she were not my daughter.”
So much so that the King would mutter this while raking his serpentine gaze over her.
Fortunately, the King was a man whose reason prevailed over instinct. He began searching for a man who would purchase Frigia at the highest price.
Though her birth mother’s origins were lowborn, there was no shortage of suitors desiring a young, beautiful princess showered with the King’s affection.
After much deliberation, the King settled upon Count Elysium, a nobleman of the Orpheus Empire.

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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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