The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

“……!” “From the first time I met you, I felt you were different from other women. I felt comfortable and happy with you, and then I saw the way you protected me from my brother, and I realized for sure… my heart.” 

Simone knelt on the floor and held out a bouquet of tulips.

 

It was a desperate courtship.

 

From Simone’s point of view.

 

But from Artia’s perspective, it was insanely overwhelming.

 

Realizing that returning the favor would only make matters worse, she replied without hesitation.

 “No.” “……!” 

Simone’s gentle eyes widened in shock.

 

Artia’s heart was momentarily weakened by the hurt look in the usually cheerful man’s eyes, but she didn’t let it get the better of her and finished firmly.

 “I do not wish to have anything to do with you in the future, Mr. Simone, and I hope you will respect my wishes.” 

Artia bowed her head in respect and left the room.

 

The teacup on the table had barely cooled from the heat.

 

But then something surprising happened.

 

Simone had followed her. He ran after her, umbrella less, in the pouring rain.

 

As Artia climbed into the carriage, Simone called out to her.

 “Madame, just give me one chance. I’ll do my best, and I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world!” 

He was as pathetic as the hero of a tragedy, but he couldn’t change Artia’s mind.

 

Without even looking at Simone, Artia turned to the coachman.

 “Let’s go.” 

The carriage started to pull away.

 

Simone ran after it and fell. Covered in dirt, he cried out.

 “Don’t go, Frau Edenberg!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Simone opened his eyes.

 

He was lying on a bed in a warm, toasty room.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his dry mouth.

 “Brother…” 

Shylock, sitting on the side of the bed, glared at him.

 “Are you awake?” “…….” “You’ve been passed out all day, no wonder, you’ve been standing out in the rain for so long, and you’ve been drinking more than you should.” 

Shylock gritted his teeth and muttered.

 “I’d hate to see a weakling die.” 

Normally, if Simone looked the least bit angry at his brother, he’d be scared out of his wits and begging to differ.

 

But now he said nothing, just stared blankly at Shylock.

 

Tears welled up again in his puffy eyes.

 “Uh, what can I do, brother. Mrs. Edenberg doesn’t like me.” 

Still Mrs. Edenberg, even in that state.

 

Shylock was both exhilarated and incredulous.

 

This was the first time Simone had ever shown this much interest in a woman.

 

‘Well. He’s usually blind as a bat, but when he sees something, he likes, he’s all over it, and he’s got to have it.’

 

This was not at all like Shylock, who was always sober.

 

Shylock looked at his brother lovingly (though he was really just a snake with glowing eyes) and asked.

 “Do you like Artia von Edenberg so much?” “Yes, I like her very much.” 

The answer came without the slightest hesitation, and Shylock remembered the Artia he had seen a few days ago.

 

She was so far from his taste.

 

Dull, plain, devoid of any flair or color.

 

But there was something about the way she carried herself, the way she looked like she could crush him with one hand and not be intimidated in the slightest…

 

He was tempted.

 

But that was it.

 

It wasn’t enough to make him covet the woman his precious brother had set his heart on.

 

After all, Artia was the woman he had predicted for his brother’s marriage.

 

‘An Edenberg is an Edenberg, even if it’s not as prestigious as it once was.’

 

The most coveted marriage for a Rushan family with nothing but money.

 

It was good that Simone wanted her so badly.

 

Shylock stroked Simone’s wet cheek.

 “Tsk. Stop crying, Simone von Rushan.” “Hmph…” “Artia von Edenberg will be your woman.” “……!” 

Sobbing like a broken doll, Simone snapped his head up and looked at Shylock.

 

Shylock ruffled Simone’s curly hair, as if he thought it was cute.

 “You’ve let me have everything you’ve ever wanted, big brother.” 

The gray eyes behind the monocle flashed.

 

They were the eyes of an older brother who despised his younger brother, and the eyes of a greedy businessman who had exploded the family business as soon as he became head of the household.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Simone’s onslaught of gifts had stopped. Catherine thumped her chest in disappointment, but Artia was relieved.

 “Looks like I made my point.” 

Well, that last one was a bit of a stretch, but she’s glad it worked out.

 “I’m glad that last bit was cleared up at least,”

Artia said to Vivi once she’d put Simone out of her mind.

 “It’s quiet in the house. Has mother been out again?” “Yes, she went to a banquet at the Countess de Loublanc’s.” 

Even when Artia’s father was alive, Catherine was always busy.

 

She loved to socialize and attended every banquet in the capital.

 

She often returned late at night, reeking of alcohol and nagging Artia.

 “Artia, you can’t just stay in your room and read books all the time. You have to look pretty and act like a flower so you can get a good bridegroom.” 

Artia swallowed hard, realizing that she was being scolded for not being good enough.

 

Catherine glared at her and clicked her tongue.

 “Your mother died young, your father is indifferent, your stepmother is like this, and you deserve a good husband.” 

There was pure pity for Artia in her voice.

 

Perhaps that was the reason.

 

Artia liked Catherine.

 

The more Catherine and Benedict had drifted apart, the less Artia had gotten to know her.

 “I want to get along with her, if not like mother and daughter.” 

After all, they are the only family she has.

 

Artia closed the book she was reading and picked up the pile of papers on the table.

 

It was the list of suitors that Catherine had brought to her after she’d been so angry when she’d heard that Artia had decided to stop seeing Simone.

 

“Let’s go over the suitors again.”

 

Every guy she’s ever met has been a jerk, but one never knows.

 

Maybe one of them will make a good groom.

 

Artia popped a crunchy carrot stick into her mouth and began to leaf through the portraits, one by one.

 

As expected, it was no different than before.

 “He’s too old, he’s got too many kids, he’s got too much hair…” 

She looked at the men who were overflowing and in trouble.

 

A rustling sound made her look up.

 

A black cat was standing by the window.

 “Butterfly!” 

Artia ran to the window, the paper she was reading in her hand.

 

Artia stared at the black cat, her eyes filled with joy, and then she realized.

 

The black cat was staring at the paper in her hand, a portrait of her suitor.

 “Come to think of it,”

she said,

“cats are spirits, and Butterfly seem more special than other cats.” 

Perhaps it can sense an aura that she can’t see.

 

Artia held the portrait up to the black cat’s eyes.

 “Butterfly, what do you think of him?” 

‘What’s up with this guy I see every day and never seem to recognize?’

 “He’s the one who asked me to marry him,”

Artia said, turning to the grumpy cat.

 “He’s the one who asked me to marry him, and I’d like to meet him.” 

The moment she said that the black cat’s front paws moved furiously.

 *Swish! Swish! Swish! * 

The black cat’s claws attacked, and in an instant, the portrait was torn to shreds.

 

Artia panicked.

 

It was the first time she had ever seen such aggressive behavior from the normally graceful Butterfly.

 “You don’t like it that much?” “…….” “Well, me neither. He’s a good-looking guy, but the rumors I’ve heard are not good.” 

‘Butterfly is amazing!’

 

Artia held up another portrait in admiration.

 “And what about this one?” *Swish! Swish! * 

This one was faster than the last.

 “And this one is…” *Swish!* 

Eventually, all the portraits of the suitors she was looking at were torn to shreds.

 

All of them, even the ones she thought were respectable.

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