The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 112

“…….”

 

Killian looked up and saw Artia’s face.

 

She didn’t look angry at all. She didn’t look disappointed or offended. Just an awkward smile, a little embarrassed.

 

“Somehow, all I have to do is speak to Butterfly, and he gives me what I want.”

 

After this happened a few times, she began to have doubts. When she thought about it, she realized that Butterfly and Killian’s golden eyes looked exactly alike.

 

But Artia dismissed the idea as nonsense.

 

But…

 

“The moment I locked eyes with the black panther that came to my rescue, I was finally convinced: a giant black panther, a lovely black cat, all of them.”

 

“…Don’t you feel bad?”

 

Artia’s eyes widened at Killian’s question.

 

“Why would I?”

 

“Because I tricked you.”

 

She was surprised, of course. But…

 

“It doesn’t change the fact that you comforted me and helped me, human or cat.”

 

“…….”

 

“I can only be grateful.”

 

Artia smiled shyly.

 

More adult than the smile she’d shown the black cat, more childlike than the one she’d shown Killian.

 

At that moment, Killian couldn’t take it anymore, and he bent down and pulled Artia into a hug. Artia’s eyes widened as he wrapped her in his arms.

 

*Thump, thump, thump.*

 

The sound of his heartbeat, the one she’d heard before she’d lost consciousness, was clear in her ears again.

 

‘Why was she feeling so hot, even though she had only heard someone else’s heartbeat?’

 

Artia squeezed her eyes shut in confusion at the unfamiliar sensation. Then a low, creepy voice whispered in her ear.

 

“Artia von Edenberg.”

 

His voice continued once more as she opened her eyes, fluttering her long lashes.

 

“May I stay by your side, then?”

 

‘Was it just her imagination, or did the voice of a mad king who seemed to fear nothing in the world sound like that of a frightened child?’

 

Artia nodded slowly, feeling her heart sink.

 

At that moment, Killian’s grip on her tightened and loosened.

 

As if he was wary of hurting her.

 

Artia felt it, and for some reason, tears welled up in her eyes.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning. 

 

Vivi opened the door with hot tea.

 

Artia was lying peacefully in bed, with Killian sitting arrogantly beside her.

 

Relieved to see that her master didn’t look much different than she had last night as she closed the door behind her, Vivi shuffled to Artia’s side.

 

“You’re awake, my lady.”

 

“Yes, I’m fine now.”

 

Vivi’s face lit up with relief at Artia’s answer.

 

Artia smiled and glanced at Killian, who sat beside Vivi.

 

He was no longer the distant “Your Highness”, looking as nonchalant as if last night’s events had been a lie.

 

Last night…

 

“My… friend!” Artia had said to Killian. “I don’t think it’s fair to describe the relationship between us as that of a common prince and a noble anymore, so I was thinking, how about we… be friends?”

 

At that moment, Artia looked at Killian, who looked like he’d been hit over the head with a giant rock and realized that he’d been firmly misunderstood.

 

“You don’t like it?”

 

Seeing Artia’s blank expression, Killian didn’t even think twice before answering.

 

“No. I like it, my friend.”

 

He meant it. It felt like a miracle that he’d gone from having no contact with her to a relationship that could be defined by any name.

 

A part of him was disappointed.

 

Anyway, so, day one of being officially friends.

 

Killian woke up from a dreamlike state and turned to Artia.

 

“Do you want to get some more rest, or do you want to hear about the assholes?”

 

“Sons of bitches,” Artia replied, realizing who the uncharacteristically harsh language was referring to.

 

“The latter.”

 

Killian gave the current situation simply and clearly.

 

“Count Elysium and Crank von Edenberg are both in custody.”

 

Artia asked, sensing something odd in Kilian’s tone. “You didn’t formally arrest them, but your highness has them?”

 

“Yes, but they are nobles.”

 

Nobles take time to be arrested, and even after they’re locked up, they have to wait for the court to decide. Killian was having none of it.

 

“I will not leave it to others to decide what to do with those who dare to touch what is mine.”

 

Hearing Killian’s muttering, Artia spoke up, angry. “Why do I belong to you?”

 

“We’re friends.”

 

“……!”

 

Artia’s cheeks flushed red at the unexpected answer.

 

“Somehow, I think your highness has become very impudent…”

 

Whether he knew what Artia was thinking or not, Killian continued casually.

 

“How do you want me to dispose of them?”

 

“…….”

 

“I could kill them with a single blow, or I could inflict enough pain on them to make them beg you to kill them, or I could mutilate their bodies so that they will never forget the crime of touching you.”

 

Despite the gentle tone, the words were chilling.

 

Artia suddenly realized that the man before her was a crazed warrior who had decapitated thousands of enemy soldiers.

 

But it was strange.

 

With his big, fierce eyes, he wasn’t as scary as the dust.

 

…though her heart was pounding.

 

‘It can’t be helped,’ she thought to herself, ‘His Highness is so handsome that my body reacts instinctively to him…’

 

Artia answered, convincing herself.

 

“I’d like to turn them over to the court and have them receive the appropriate punishment.”

 

Killian gave her a disapproving look.

 

“Nobles aren’t executed unless they’ve plotted treason, and then they’re imprisoned at best.”

 

It was too easy a punishment for the bastards.

 

Artia, feeling Killian’s eerie aura all over her, lowered her eyebrows in confusion.

 

“I know, but I don’t want this to be handled in secret, I want it to be publicized for all to see.”

 

It was a terrible thing, but if she looked at it another way, it was an opportunity.

 

A chance to shut up the supporters of Count Elysium.

 

Killian glared at Artia, then muttered.

 

“You look weaker than a rabbit, but you’re so bold in times like this.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That day, Count Elysium and Crank von Edenberg were formally arrested. They were charged with the kidnapping and attempted murder of Artia von Edenberg.

 

The unbelievable news shook the social circles.

 

Many women were outraged as if it were their business.

 

“Did Frau Edenberg steal anything, did she make unspeakable accusations, did she help a friend whose husband had done something terrible to her, and now she has been subjected to such a horrible thing?”

 

“You can’t just let it go. He must be punished severely so that it never happens again!”

 

Even the men who had been actively siding with Count Elysium until now were speechless.

 

They knew they would be accused of defending a murderer who had gone out of his way to kidnap and kill a helpless woman.

 

Worse, it had been widely publicized that Prince Killian had taken it upon himself to arrest the two men.

 

Why the mad king would do this is unknown, but it would do no good to interfere in a case the prince had his eye on.

 

Upon hearing the news, Artia muttered to herself as she bit into a shredded carrot stick.

 

“They lunge at me and Freesia with foamy bites, but they keep their tails between their legs when it comes to the Prince.”

 

Gentlemen indeed.

 

After the incident, Artia remained in her room the entire time, refusing to see any visitors.

 

It was said that she had been so traumatized that she was unable to function, and that she had been beaten so badly that she was ill.

 

And the accusations against Count Elysium grew stronger.

 

Artia had no intention of correcting them, but one thing was bothering her.

 

Freesia.

 

When Freesia heard that Artia had been taken by Count Elysium, she was devastated.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I really…”

 

Freesia cried, her face more pained than when she came to the mansion right after she was assaulted by her husband.