The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

When she didn’t hear an answer, Artia asked again.

 “Excuse me, are you ill?” 

Her small voice was full of concern as she spoke, not quite reaching him.

 

‘You speak well when you can’t see the other person’s face.’

 

Killian opened his mouth, the corners twitching upward.

 “I’m not sick.” 

His voice was unusually low and husky, but so much softer than usual that it sounded like it belonged to someone other than Killian.

 

Again, Artia didn’t notice. If she had, she would have run for the hills, but instead she spoke up.

 “That’s good, because I’m afraid I can’t help you.” 

It was the first time he’d spoken to Artia. In Killian’s form, she’d run away at the first sign of eye contact, and in the black cat’s form, she’d talk nonstop.

 “Not bad.” 

It had been a long time since he’d had a conversation with someone and not been offended.

 

Just then a hand jumped out of the bushes. The hand, small enough to be Killian’s age, held a white handkerchief.

 “Use it if you need it.” 

The hand holding the handkerchief trembled slightly, despite the calm voice.

 

As if it had summoned all its courage.

 

Killian stared at the handkerchief, then took it. Despite his caution, his fingertips brushed lightly against her hand.

 “Aah!” 

Artia shrieked, jerking her hand back as if it were on fire.

 

Artia spoke twice as fast as she had before.

 “Sir, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m a coward…” 

Instead of answering, Killian stared at the tips of Artia’s fingers against his own.

 

It was fleeting, but surprisingly gentle.

 

Artia’s voice continued as she turned to Killian.

 

“You don’t have to return the handkerchief, so feel free to use it and I’ll be on my way.”

 

There was the sound of distant footsteps. Artia’s scent drifted away.

 

Only when she was completely gone did Killian look down at the handkerchief.

 

He started to wipe the corner of his mouth with it, then stopped.

 

The white handkerchief smelled of Artia von Edenberg.

 

The faint scent of cherry blossoms.

 

Killian finally tucked the handkerchief into his chest without using it.

 

Afterwards he returned to the ballroom.

 

With such dignity that no one could tell he was struggling.

 

All eyes in the vast room were on him, especially the women, who were dressed to the nines for their debut, and their stares were almost painfully intense.

 

But Killian paid no attention to any of them, his eyes searching for a woman, and he found her in an instant.

 

Hiding behind a pillar in the corner was Artia von Edenberg.

 

She was wearing a pale pink dress, her head bowed, her face tense. The dress, made of dozens of layers of thin fabric, looked like it was made of cherry blossoms.

 

Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of Artia.

 

His chest tightened where he tucked the white handkerchief she had given him earlier.

 

‘Should I ask her to dance?’

 

It was the first thought that crossed his mind.

 

She looked up and their eyes met. Even though they were so far apart, she squealed and bowed her head deeply.

 

Her body shook violently in her pink dress.

 

As if she had made eye contact with a monster.

 “…….” 

Killian didn’t want Artia to faint at the debutante ball.

 

Just as he had come to remember today as a pretty good day, he hoped she would too.

 

So, Killian turned his head away and never looked in Artia’s direction again.

 

 

When he’d changed from black cat to his normal form, he muttered.

 “Pretty, very pretty.” 

It was an afterthought, something he hadn’t said in front of her.

 

* * *

 

Cafe Zeus. 

 

Artia sat across from Simone.

 

Today was the last day she would see him.

 

Artia had planned to make small talk and say goodbye, as she had done twice before, but then Simone said something unexpected.

 “Mrs. Edenberg, can we meet again some other time?” “What?” “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, I just really enjoyed talking to you, and if you feel the same way, why don’t we meet a few more times?” “…….” 

She didn’t hate Simone.

 

She thought they could remain friends, if not husband and wife.

 

But Artia realized now.

 

She doesn’t think they can have a casual relationship.

 

He sees her as a woman.

 

Looking at Simone, who looked at her expectantly, Artia said.

  “That’s very nice of you, but as we discussed at the beginning, we’re only seeing each other until today.” “……!” “It was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll pray for a good match for you, Simone.” 

Simone looked like he was going to cry, but then he stood up and bowed.

 “Yes. It was a pleasure, too.” 

A ridiculous greeting, unbecoming of an aristocratic man. Instead of laughing, Artia bowed gracefully.

 

Thus ended her encounter with the fifth suitor!

 

She thought.

 

A few days later, an unexpected visitor arrived.

 “Baron Rushan is here to see you.” 

Shylock of Rushan.

 

Baron Rushan’s steward and Simone’s older brother.

 “He wants to see you urgently.” 

It was polite to ask permission before visiting a guest’s home.

 

Artia and Baron Rushan weren’t close enough to waive that courtesy.

 “We’ve never even greeted each other properly, let alone gotten to know each other.” 

Artia’s brow furrowed at the rudeness of this behavior.

 

Vivi, sensing Artia’s thoughts, asked.

“Do you want me to formally ask him for permission and tell him to come back?” “No, I need to hear the story.” 

If he came in such a hurry, it might be as urgent as he said.

 

Artia pulled a cardigan over her indoor dress and went outside.

 

A man in a black suit stood in the doorway.

 

Hair slicked back without a strand in disarray, piercing eyes peering out from behind a pair of sunglasses.

 

He had a fierce appearance that matched the rumors of a cold-blooded man who only cared about money.

 “He doesn’t look anything like Mr. Simone.” 

It wasn’t just that they didn’t look alike, it was that they were opposites. She couldn’t believe they were siblings from the same parents.

 

Locking eyes with Artia, Shylock spoke in a harsh voice.

 “Mrs. Edenberg, I’ve met you three times, and you’ve swayed a naïve man’s heart, and now you’re letting go, are you playing with my brother?” 

Suddenly, Artia realized why he had come all this way.

 “You’re here to question my decision not to see Simone?” 

She was stunned.

 

She’d heard stories about Simone’s brother’s meddling, but she hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

 

While Artia was trying to figure out how to deal with this overprotective brother, another uninvited guest showed up.

  

* * * 

  “Watch your tongue, brother!” 

Simone ran up, pale as a sheet, and stood in front of Shylock.

 “Brother, what the hell are you doing here?” “Doing nothing. I’m here because, like an idiot, you can’t even say what you want to say.” 

Shylock glared down at Simone with a fierce stare.

 “I’ve told you every day. You want something, you make sure you get it, and you’re acting like an idiot again. What kind of man runs away from a woman because she bounces a little?” “I-I’m…” 

Simone had run all the way to Edenberg Manor to stop Shylock, but he couldn’t say anything.

 

He was too afraid.

 

His breathing became harder.

 

He felt like he was going to faint again.

 

A clear voice rang in his ears as he trembled with extreme fear.

 “Stop, Baron Rushan.” 

Suddenly, Artia was standing in front of him, protecting him.

 

Shylock looked down at her and spoke in a cold voice.

 “Stay out of other people’s business.” 

His snake-like eyes flashed menacingly, but Artia didn’t back down.

 “You’re the one who shouldn’t be sticking your nose in, not me.” “What?” “Me and Simone have had three meetings to get to know each other, and we’ve decided we don’t want to take our relationship any further, so stay out of it, it’s between me and Simone.”Visit my Ko-fi for advance chapter discounts!!