The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 107

Until then, she had no idea.

 

That kissing a small, cute kitten was one thing, but kissing a man three times her size was another.

 

It was sweet, ecstatic.

 

‘What is this, I love it, I want more.’

 

Artia leaned closer to him, not even realizing exactly what she was doing.

 

And Killian’s rationality flew out the window.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Artia didn’t wake up until after sunset.

 

The effects of her first drink were overwhelming. Her head throbbed and her stomach rumbled.

 

“Ugh. Alcohol is a scary thing…”

 

Artia muttered to herself, staring blankly at the ceiling, until she yelped and jumped out of bed.

 

“I was with his highness yesterday…”

 

They kissed, not for a moment, but long enough to make it hard to breathe.

 

Artia shouted, her face bright red.

 

“No matter how drunk I am, how-how could I dream such a thing!”

 

What was even crazier was that she remembered everything about the dream so clearly.

 

The soft, moist, hot touch.

 

Killian’s face as Artia had seen it when he’d pulled away, breathless from a long kiss.

 

His golden eyes, once so calm and cool, now burned with uncontrolled heat. With a gaze more formidable than a starving black panther’s, he said,

 

“Prettier, please.”

 

Her face burned hot at the mere thought of it again.

 

“Argh!”

 

Artia struggled, burying her face in the fluffy pillow.

 

“Lately, whenever I see your highness, I keep thinking of him as a man.”

 

But it was only an instinctive reaction to his deadly charms, not a feeling like crush or love.

 

‘…Right?’

 

‘Can I really say I don’t feel anything, with my heart beating like this?’

 

But Artia shook her head again.

 

She was still scarred from her first love.

 

She didn’t want to trust a man.

 

She didn’t want to make love.

 

She might marry again out of duty-because she was a noblewoman, because she had to bear the duke’s heir-but that was it. She didn’t want to get emotionally involved with a man.

 

Especially not feelings that might become too powerful for her to control.

 

Artia muttered to herself.

 

“Killian is the one who helped me.”

 

He is not a rational object; he is incomparably more valuable and grateful than that.

 

“I want this relationship to last for a long time to come, and I can’t afford to harbor any ill will.”

 

Red from ear to ear, Artia buried her face in her pillow and muttered,

 

“That’s why I won’t dream about it again.”

 

 

 

Same time, Imperial palace.

 

Nocturne spoke softly to Killian as he sat in his chair.

 

“Your Majesty, it is time for dinner.”

 

“…….”

 

But Killian remained motionless, as if he had heard nothing.

 

Nocturne was furious.

 

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’

 

He’d been like that since he’d entered the room this morning.

 

He hadn’t changed out of the clothes he’d worn the night before, and he was staring at the pink flowers on the table.

 

No breakfast, no lunch, nothing. He didn’t practice swordsmanship, and he didn’t look at any papers.

 

Nocturne felt a twinge of foreboding at the sight of Killian sitting so motionless all day.

 

Even the craziest of lords can’t be this crazy.

 

So much for that. Nocturne decided to lure Killian back to his senses.

 

“Your Majesty, Mrs. Edenberg has sent a message to…”

 

“……!”

 

The response was overwhelming.

 

Killian, still as a statue, turned his head at breakneck speed.

 

“Artia von Edenberg?”

 

His golden eyes, so blank a moment ago, now glowed with malevolence. 

 

It was as if the slightest hint of insensitivity would be met with devastating retribution.

 

Nocturne swallowed hard and spoke.

 

“I’m sure Mrs. Edenberg will be very pleased that the trial has been won.”

 

After a long pause, Killian spoke.

 

“I see.”

 

“……?!”

 

Nocturne’s eyes widened at the reaction, as if he had seen Artia.

 

Not caring if he had or not, Killian muttered to himself.

 

“So that’s why she got so drunk. That’s why. It was… drunkenness.”

 

Killian knew it in his head, but he couldn’t calm down. He couldn’t let it go.

 

It was his first kiss.

 

Young, handsome, and strong, Killian was admired and desired by many women. But he was a virulent misogynist who would rather ingest poison or swing his sword at the heads of enemy generals than touch a woman.

 

To him, kissing was a horrible act that he would never perform.

 

But…

 

A tiny tongue, tiny lips, tiny hands wrapped around his waist.

 

In the moonlight, Artia smiled.

 

Her pink eyes sparkled as if she had seen a long-awaited spring flower.

 

All this was an insult to him. An attack unlike anything he’d seen on the battlefield in all his years.

 

His heart was shattered, his brain no longer functioning and he was left with nothing but instinct.

 

He wanted to stay in touch with her.

 

All night long, forever.

 

Killian’s fists clenched at the hot sensation that had returned, and he stared at Nocturne in horror.

 

He had to keep his cool somehow.

 

Otherwise, he’d be on top of her in a heartbeat, kissing that small, sweet mouth again.

 

Nocturne, not understanding him and bombarded by Killian’s glare, turned pale and tears streamed down his face.

 

‘Save me!’

 

 

* * *

 

 

As expected, the aftermath of the trial was tumultuous.

 

Those who accepted the outcome of the trial and those who did not were sharply divided.

 

“He sided with the woman who denounced her husband. No one but a crazy woman desperate to win a man and a few men desperate to look good to women would ever approve of such a verdict.”

 

“You’re talking out of your ass. Violence is against the law in the Empire, much less violence perpetrated by a husband against his wife in a marriage of mutual respect. We must support Calvin’s courageous decision to right a wrong that has been tacitly condoned.”

 

One man spoke with contempt.

 

“You mean you support violence?”

 

To his surprise, it was Count Gregg, Dahlia’s husband.

 

He wasn’t the only one whose name was on everyone’s lips.

 

“A woman from a foreign land,” he said, “making trouble in the Empire. That’s why we shouldn’t have foreign girls to play with, but we married them to you, so you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Freesia, who made the report, and

 

“It’s unfair to blame Lady Elysium alone. Frau Edenberg is said to have manipulated her behind her back.”

 

“Mrs. Edenberg?”

 

“Yes. She lured Lady Elysium out of the house and had her husband killed. She also incited the noblewomen to write a petition.”

 

“Hm. You mean to tell me that she had no shame in doing such a thing, causing a stir in the capital, getting a divorce, and then doing it again? She’s a very unsavory woman.”

 

It was in this atmosphere that Artia appeared at a banquet.

 

The arrival of the most talked about woman in social circles in recent times attracted attention.

 

A man approached her.

 

“Do you know what you have done? The trial has turned society into a battlefield.”

 

“I don’t think the last trial is up for discussion. Mrs. Elysium only asked for the trial because she wanted to protect herself from violence.”

 

The man’s face twitched at the bluntness of the answer.