The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 114

 When the nobles heard of Count Elysium’s imprisonment, they were aghast.

 

“No matter how guilty he is, isn’t that too much punishment for a nobleman?”

 

“If you think so, why don’t you appeal?”

 

At those words, the grumbling nobleman clamped his mouth shut.

 

He felt like he would be beaten to a pulp if he sided with Count Elysium now.

 

There was no reason to take the risk of siding with him.

 

Especially now that Count Elysium’s power had passed to his brother, Daniel von Elysium.

 

It was Freesia who calmed the family after Count Elysium’s imprisonment.

 

Calling a family council meeting, Freesia nominated her brother-in-law to fill her husband’s void as Count Elysium’s hostess.

 

“Daniel is an honest man.”

 

At least he wasn’t a pervert who got pleasure from beating his wife behind people’s backs.

 

But that didn’t mean he could be trusted, so Freesia added.

 

“As you know, there are many people who would like to be Count Elysium’s Household Agent, and I expect you to be worthy of the opportunity you have been given, Daniel von Elysium.”

 

Daniel swallowed hard at the threat that if he didn’t do it right, she could always give the title of Householder to someone else.

 

He hadn’t expected to see such sternness in her sister-in-law, who he’d thought was as beautiful as a flower.

 

Daniel nodded, his face tense.

 

“Yes, I will do my best to lead the house while he is away.”

 

  

 

The day Count Elysium was taken to Sibelin Prison in the far north.

 

Freesia was the only one who came out to watch him leave. Count Elysium forgot his nobility and cried out.

 

“Set me free! Save me!”

 

Instead of answering her husband, Freesia clasped his gaunt hands, which protruded through the bars.

 

“I’ll wait until you’ve paid for what you’ve done, my dear. Goodbye, my dear.”

 

“Freesia!”

 

Freesia stood where she was until the chariot carrying Count Elysium was out of sight in the distance.

 

The world would have hailed her as a victor for sending her cruel whip-wielding husband to a distant prison.

 

‘But I…’

 

The corners of her eyes, which had been stoic the entire time, turned red…

 

 

“Freesia!”

 

Freesia’s head snapped around at the loud voice, her eyes widening.

 

Artia came running toward her, her face full of concern.

 

She smiled wistfully, brushing her hair out of her face as it whipped in the gusting wind.

 

“I, too, have become a noblewoman without a husband.”

 

Artia, who wore a similar expression to Freesia’s, said playfully.

 

“Glad to see you have company. Take care, wee.”

 

Freesia’s eyes narrowed, but then she smiled and nodded.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The day she realized Killian was Butterfly, Artia asked. “So, I won’t see Butterfly anymore, will I?”

 

Killian didn’t like meeting people in animal form, especially not in the form of a cute cat.

 

Appearing as a cat in front of Artia was a result of her difficulty with the prince.

 

Now that they were “friends,” there was no need to meet in cat form. But Artia looked more than disappointed. She looked sad.

 

Killian was indeed weak to such a face.

 

“I’ll come back like before.”

 

It was more convenient for an unmarried prince (even if they were friends) to visit the home of a husbandless noblewoman in animal form.

 

 

Artia jumped out of her chair at the sight of a black cat in the window.

 

“Butterfly!”

 

The look in Artia’s eyes made Killian feel strange.

 

While he was pleased to see that her reaction hadn’t changed once she realized who Butterfly was…

 

‘She doesn’t give me that look when I’m in human form.’

 

Unable to read Kilian’s mind, Artia glared at the black cat, then asked cautiously.

 

“Do you mind if I touch you a little?”

 

“What?”

 

Artia said confessionally to the black cat, who gave her a piercing glare.

 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it, but I really wanted to touch you.”

 

“…….”

 

Killian confirmed.

 

She didn’t remember the day she’d gotten so drunk that she’d touched him uncontrollably and then kissed him.

 

‘I’m stuck with the memory of that day until now…’

 

He would occasionally think of that moment.

 

The pungent, sweet scent of her perfume, the feel of her tiny, soft tongue, the small voice in his ear.

 

Each time, his blood rushed through his veins and his heart pounded.

 

It was a pain that could not be relieved by hundreds of swings of a heavy sword or hundreds of pages of densely written documents.

 

Artia, on the other hand, wore a cruelly impassive face.

 

He didn’t dare to resent her, knowing that her failure to remember that day had allowed them to remain “friends”.

 

It was just a little… heartbreaking.

 

Killian didn’t recognize the emotion as sadness.

 

He was supposed to be the most intelligent man in the Empire, but he was no more in touch with his emotions than a child.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

Artia’s voice brought Killian to his senses.

 

Artia lowered her eyebrows.

 

“I apologize if I’ve asked you an awkward favor, and you are free to decline.”

 

A moment later, the black cat opened its mouth.

 

“Touch me.”

 

Artia’s eyes twinkled as if she’d been dead for a while.

 

Artia put on a determined face.

 

“Then let’s begin.”

 

Artia’s hand gingerly touched the black cat’s rounded head. She stroked its head, then moved on to its neck and back.

 

Artia was impressed.

 

“Wow, it’s like the finest velvet.”

 

It was ecstatically soft. She wanted to touch it over and over again.

 

But Killian, being touched, was feeling something else entirely.

 

Everywhere Artia’s slender fingers touched was electrifying. It was more intense than the sting of a sword wielded by an enemy on the battlefield.

 

The tickling sensation was so irritating it was almost painful.

 

Unbeknownst to him, Artia worked her hands diligently, reveling in the sensation, until Killian finally reached his limit.

 

In an instant, the black cat transformed into Killian.

 

Artia was so startled that she stumbled backwards. Grabbing Artia by the waist, Killian spoke in a low voice.

 

“You must be mistaken, but I’m not a real cat.”

 

His golden eyes glinted.

 

“I’m a human man.”

 

“……!”

 

Artia’s face turned apologetically red as she realized what she’d done.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

Killian’s brow furrowed.

 

“I’m not offended. I’m…”

 

‘When you touch me, my whole body…’

 

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he looked down at Artia with pained eyes.

 

“Are you upset?”

 

Killian glared at Artia, who glared back, then raised her hand.

 

His large hand landed on the back of Artia’s neck.

 

“……?!”

 

Before Artia had time to react to the sudden touch, long fingers trailed down her thin, white neck.

 

The unfamiliar touch sent chills down her spine.

 

“I, Your Highness…!”

 

Artia screamed his name, but it was no use.

 

Killian’s fingers slid down her white neck to her collarbone.

 

The gesture was more careful than an archaeologist studying an ancient treasure, but it sent a jolt through Artia that left her unable to breathe.

 

“Stop…!”

 

She managed to get the words out. It was a pathetically small voice, but thankfully it worked.

 

The fearless lunging hand stopped and grabbed the necklace that rested between her collarbones.

 

Killian tilted his head slightly, locking eyes with Artia.

 

“See, that must have been hard, huh?”