The Search for the Duchess’s Husband - Chapter 95

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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 95

“I slipped out of the Edenberg Mansion with Lize the moment my husband fell asleep.”
My only thought was to flee somewhere beyond the reach of his hands.
Yet despite being called the most beloved woman in High Society, there was nowhere I could go.
How could I present myself in this state to anyone?
Marigold? Dahlia? But I couldn’t bear to show them such a pitiful sight.
In the midst of this despair, one person came to mind.
Artia.
‘She said she carries the same wounds as I do. She said she would help me.’
And so Frigia came seeking Artia.
Frigia spoke, her face flushed crimson.
“I’m sorry for coming so abruptly when we’re not even close.”
“….”
“But could you possibly help me? I could endure being struck myself, but I cannot bear for Lize to witness it. If you help me, I’ll repay you however I can.”
Artia had heard much about Frigia from Marigold.
Despite her delicate appearance, she was someone who never relied on others, or so she’d been told.
“She seems to find it shameful to accept help from anyone. That’s what troubles me. It would be nice if she could be more childish about it.”
For her to clasp her hands together and beg for help was to set aside her noble pride—all for the sake of her young daughter.
Artia placed her hand over Frigia’s trembling fingers.
Looking at Frigia with wide eyes, Artia spoke.
“I already told you. When someone catches my attention, I can’t rest easy until I help them—it’s simply how I am. This is what I want to do. So there’s no need for repayment. You don’t need to feel burdened.”
“….”
“Welcome.”
“…!”
At those words, tears welled up in Frigia’s eyes once more.
Artia waited in silence until the woman’s quiet sobs subsided.

* * *

After Frigia had calmed herself, Artia broached the subject directly.
“Have you considered separating from Count Elysium?”
Frigia shook her head as if the very notion were absurd.
It wasn’t merely her homeland’s doctrine that the marital bond could never be severed.
“When the Duchess of Edenberg sought a divorce, His Imperial Majesty and countless nobles supported the separation between the two of you.”
Though it stemmed less from genuine support for Artia than from avarice toward the Dukedom of Edenberg and disdain for Lloyd, who had become an utter disgrace, public opinion had overwhelmingly favored her.
That was how she had managed to secure the divorce.
But Frigia’s circumstances were entirely different.
“I am merely a princess in name from a country far smaller and poorer than the Empire, with nothing to my credit. The only reason I’ve been accepted in Imperial High Society is because I’m the Countess Elysium. Should I express a desire for divorce, no one would support me—not here, and certainly not in my homeland.”
People would side with the powerful Count Elysium and condemn the weaker Frigia.
Artia spoke with crystalline clarity.
“Public opinion can be shaped. I’ll help create an atmosphere of support for your separation.”
Yet again, Frigia shook her head.
“If I divorce, I cease to be the Countess Elysium. Then I must return to my homeland’s Royal Palace. My country enforces strict codes requiring women to remain under male protection.”
Before marriage, it was her father; after marriage, her husband; after widowhood, her husband’s brothers or sons….
The women of Palenta were condemned to spend their entire lives beneath the shadow of men.
“In my country, the word ‘divorce’ doesn’t even exist. But women who flee their husbands are branded criminals and dragged before their in-laws or their own families. And they face terribly severe punishment.”
“Punishment, you say….”
“They lock you in a room, withhold food, and beat you. …In severe cases, death is commonplace.”
Artia’s expression hardened.
‘I thought the Empire was a place where women’s rights were weak, but there are places far worse than this.’
In that case, divorce was the worst option for Frigia. Rather, if Count Elysium proposed it, she would need to dissuade him by any means necessary.
Artia murmured thoughtfully.
“Then instead of separation, we should focus on rendering Count Elysium incapable of committing violence ever again.”
Of course, it was no simple matter.
A man vile enough to strike his wife before his young daughter would never heed pleas to stop, no matter how desperately one begged.
But there were many ways to move people. For instance….
“What if we rendered him so disabled he couldn’t strike even if he wished to?”
Frigia blinked, her eyes still glistening with moisture.
“For example, by crippling his body so thoroughly he couldn’t even blow out a dandelion in an open field….”
“What?!”
Artia continued, addressing Frigia’s widened eyes.
“If we orchestrate it as an accident, it’s entirely feasible. The margin for error is considerable—the intended body part could be destroyed, or he could lose his life altogether, but….”
Frigia stared at Artia in shock.
Artia was so pale and delicate she seemed almost translucent. Her pink eyes appeared too fragile to harm even an ant, let alone engage in violence.
‘What did this woman just say? Could it be a jest?’
Seeing Frigia’s rigid expression, Artia furrowed her brow.
“Even if he’s committed terrible acts, you’re unwilling to go to such lengths because he’s your husband?”
Only then did Frigia realize that Artia’s words were not conjecture or bravado—they were sincere.
‘I assumed her popularity among High Society women stemmed solely from her gentle nature and attentiveness to others’ words. I was mistaken.’
Artia concealed sharp claws like a cat—weapons she could unsheathe at any moment when facing an enemy.
‘I carelessly picked a fight with her without knowing what kind of woman she was.’
The thought of what might have happened if Artia had deemed him an enemy sent chills racing down his spine.
Meanwhile, Artia misinterpreted the pallor that had drained from Frigia’s face.
‘Oh dear, I suppose I told her something too frightening.’
Artia spoke gently, as if soothing a frightened child.
“If you’d rather not harm Count Elysium, there are gentler methods available.”
“What… what do you mean?”
As long as it didn’t involve damaging her husband’s body, Frigia felt she could accept anything.
What Artia said next to the trembling Frigia was nothing short of shocking.
“Report Count Elysium to the High Court.”
Frigia was so startled that her reaction came a beat too late.
“Report him?”
Artia nodded.
“The Empire’s High Court handles all cases involving nobility. Their primary function is mediating conflicts between houses, but incidents occurring within a household can also be reported.”
Such matters typically involved title succession or inheritance disputes. Reports involving violence were extraordinarily rare.
A wife reporting her husband was rarer still.
Seeing the ashen pallor on Frigia’s face, Artia spoke as if understanding her thoughts.
“I know it’s not an easy thing to do. But Count Elysium isn’t the sort of man who will stop his violence simply because you ask him to. He requires strong sanctions. If the High Court issues a ruling that he must never assault his wife again, the Count will think twice before attempting such actions.”
The High Court was an institution with independent authority separate from the Imperial Palace itself. Even the most arrogant noble found it difficult to ignore a High Court ruling. Should Count Elysium ignore the Court’s orders and strike Frigia again, he could face imprisonment.
Yet Frigia could not bring herself to nod in agreement.
After a long silence, she finally spoke.
“If I report this to the High Court, won’t the entire world learn that I’ve been beaten by my husband?”
“…Yes.”
Frigia bit her lip.
‘How many people will mock me when they learn that the beautiful, noble woman was actually being beaten by her husband?’
Combined with the accusation of being a wife who reported her own husband, the reputation Frigia had painstakingly built over the past five years would crumble like a sandcastle.
Perhaps she would never be able to show her face in High Society again.
‘Above all, my husband will feel an enormous sense of betrayal toward me.’
The moment she recalled her husband’s handsome face twisted with rage, whip in hand, her breath caught in her throat. The terror etched into her very being came flooding back.
‘What… what was I thinking? Reporting my husband is unthinkable…’
In that instant.
Elizabeth, who had been sleeping with her head resting on Frigia’s lap, stirred and murmured in still-imperfect pronunciation.
“Mama… don’t hurt… don’t hurt…”
“…!”

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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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