The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 111

“There you go again, talking without fear.”

 

“Well, since I don’t have anything in my mouth, I don’t think you’re asking me to stop talking… Am I wrong?”

 

Count Elysium did not laugh at Artia’s playful remark. He looked down at her with a stern look.

 

“The only reason you don’t have anything in your mouth is so I can hear you scream properly.”

 

Count Elysium held out his well-worn riding whip as if to show off. Artia’s eyes widened and Count Elysium said.

 

“You recognize it. Yes, the whip I used to beat Freesia with.”

 

“……!”

 

“How pitiful and beautiful it was to see Freesia in pain with each stroke of the whip…”

 

The wistful look in his eyes, as if he was remembering a beautiful past, quickly turned sinister.

 

“Today, I will swing this at you. Until you scream and beg that it was wrong, until you can never look at me with those eyes again, until my heart is at peace.”

 

Count Elysium raised his eyebrows.

 

“That will bring Freesia to her senses and bring her back to me, won’t it?”

 

It was then that Artia realized.

 

The man in front of her was mad!

 

Her legs wobbled as she rose to flee. The potion that Count Elysium had used to knock her out was still lingering.

 

Count Elysium stalked toward the fallen Artia, whip in hand.

 

Artia’s entire body began to shake violently.

 

The image of Count Elysium was superimposed on the image of her father, Benedict.

 

Benedict had whipped her when she didn’t speak properly.

 

It was so frightening, so painful.

 

But Artia could only bite her lip and bear it in silence.

 

A harsh father who beat his young daughter, a sickly mother who couldn’t stop crying.

 

She knew that no one would help her.

 

But there was one face she remembered at that moment.

 

The face that had come to her in her time of need…

 

“Killian…”

 

Artia hadn’t thought of the name in her head; it was more like a mantra, a spell she’d uttered to shake off her fears.

 

“Your Highness Killian…!

 

As she spoke his name once more, the window shattered, revealing a giant black panther.

 

The panther’s golden eyes flashed as it pounced on Count Elysium. Just as its sharp teeth were about to sink into Count Elysium’s throat, Artia screamed.

 

“Stop!”

 

The ferocious black panther, as if it would listen to no one in the world, stopped in its tracks.

 

“Why?”

 

The black panther asked, its golden eyes glowing eerily as Artia, her eyes filled with tears, replied shakily.

 

“I, Your Majesty…”

 

“I,” the thin voice continued, seemingly not surprised that she recognized him.

 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands…”

 

Not because he shouldn’t kill people, that would be too cruel.

 

He had never heard that in his life.

 

The black panther stared at Artia as if he had heard something he didn’t understand, then looked down at Count Elysium.

 

Count Elysium, pinned beneath the giant black panther that had suddenly appeared, was semi-conscious with shock and fear.

 

“Help, help, help…”

 

The moment it opened its mouth again, as if to bite Count Elysium with unfocused eyes…

 

“Aaahhh!”

 

Count Elysium let out a tearful scream and fainted. With Count Elysium gone in one fell swoop, the black panther approached Artia. With one bound, the great black panther transformed into Killian.

 

Standing before Artia, Killian spoke.

 

“Sorry I’m late.”

 

The man she knew as arrogant and strong apologized with a pained face.

 

As if it was his own fault.

 

Artia stared at Killian in disbelief, reeling from the unreal sight she had never imagined. Stunned, Killian helped her to her feet.

 

His arms, which she had expected to be hard, were surprisingly…

 

‘It’s warm…’

 

Along with the warmth came the sound of his heart in her ear.

 

*Thump, thump, thump, thump*

 

Artia closed her eyes, thinking that the regularly repeated sound was like a lullaby.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Killian arrived at Edenberg Manor with Artia in his arms. Vivi, who was waiting for them at the mansion, ran up to them.

 

“Master!”

 

Killian said, “She is unharmed, having only fallen asleep due to extreme tension.”

 

He wasn’t the kind of man to give detailed explanations.

 

He didn’t say this to reassure the loyal maid, who was so worried about her master that her eyes were red.

 

He meant to tell her not to bother.

 

“I’ll take care of her until she wakes up.”

 

“I’m sorry, but it’s my job to take care of my lady.”

 

“I know, but I want to do it.”

 

The prince and the maid.

 

Such a stark difference in status that it was absurd to even dare to list them together, yet Vivi faced Killian with eyes that were utterly fearless.

 

The emotion in his golden eyes was as clear as if they had been pierced with gold.

 

It was an intense desire. The ferocity of a male unwilling to let a female be taken from him.

 

Vivi recognized it. No matter what she did, she would not be able to make him back down.

 

“This is not the time for a power struggle over a distraught mistress.”

 

Knowing Killian’s feelings for Artia were genuine, Vivi decided to back off.

 

“I understand, then, please.”

 

‘Please. Why does that short word bother me so much?’

 

Killian walked past Vivi, puzzled.

 

Once inside the room, he set Artia down on the bed. He was more careful with her than he would have been with a sleeping baby.

 

Killian stared at Artia, whose eyes were closed.

 

The moment he heard that she was gone, he felt the blood drain from his body. He felt an eerie emotion he’d never felt on any battlefield before: Fear.

 

He was afraid she was going to get hurt.

 

So, so much.

 

Killian stroked Artia’s silver hair and muttered, “What the hell have you done to me, Artia von Edenberg…?”

 

Despite the accusatory tone, his golden eyes were pleading, as if he could burst into tears at any moment.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

At dawn, Artia opened her eyes. She saw Kilian sitting in the darkened room.

 

“Your Highness…”

 

Killian’s eyes widened slightly at the small voice that escaped from her dry mouth.

 

“Thirsty… dry…”

 

Killian gently lifted Artia’s upper body to her feet and brought the cup to her mouth.

 

Artia was a little flustered, but she didn’t resist his touch and meekly swallowed a sip of water.

 

Looking up at Killian, who seemed relieved to see her, Artia slowly opened her mouth.

 

“Your Highness is Butterfly, right?”

 

Killian’s heart sank at the question, even though he had expected it.

 

But he knew it was inevitable, so he forced himself to keep a calm face and nodded.

 

“Yes.”

 

Killian had imagined it.

 

‘What would Artia von Edenberg do if she realized the black cat was me?’

 

Surprised, frightened, disappointed?

 

All of them would be bad, but the worst would be to lose her completely.

 

[“It’s terrible that your highness was Butterfly. Don’t ever appear in my presence again.”]

 

Just imagining her chilly appearance made his heart grow cold, and he came to the cowardly conclusion.

 

‘May this never be revealed.’

 

But clever as she was, she eventually found out the truth.

 

‘Is this the end?’

 

Funny, in that moment, Killian’s mind flashed back to his days with Artia in the form of a black cat.

 

He remembered her beaming smile as she called him “Butterfly”.

 

He didn’t want to lose that look.

 

But he couldn’t think of a way to hold on to it.

 

The tens of thousands of books he had read since he was a child, the teachings of the empire’s most renowned scholars, none of it was of any use now.

 

‘If I pray…’

 

If he knelt down and begged, would she welcome him back? Will she smile?

 

Killian was about to move his legs, mesmerized, when he heard Artia’s clear voice.

 

“So, you did.”