The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 120

 

Artia had always smelled of cherry blossoms. So faint and delicate that it was almost imperceptible.

 

And yet Killian reacted to it more keenly than any other scent.

 

Sometimes it dazed him, as if it were intoxicating.

 

Turning to Artia, who was looking at him curiously, Killian answered.

 

“You smell like Artia von Edenberg.”

 

‘What is that?’

 

Artia’s cheeks puffed up again.

 

Spontaneously, Killian’s second finger poked at the puffy cheek.

 

Poof—

 

 

* * *

 

 

Killian poked Artia’s cheek once more, without her permission, and decided to help her study.

 

“What kind of a bastard is Derek von Edenberg?”

 

Artia answered Killian’s question from memory.

 

“He’s my late father’s second brother and my second uncle. He’s a coward, always travels with at least four bodyguards, and is clingy to his wife. He’s a bit of an exhibitionist, though, so whenever he can afford it, he buys luxuries…”

 

The corners of Killian’s lips twitched upward as he listened to Artia’s voice.

 

It was like watching the most entertaining performance in the world.

 

Surprisingly, he was a good teacher.

 

Just being in his presence made her relax, and the words flowed into her head.

 

By the end of the week, Artia could recite what was written on the paper.

 

Evangeline beamed with satisfaction.

 

“Well done. Now use the information in your head to get closer to them.”

 

Evangeline pointed to several figures from the Fang Clan, including the three elders of the Edenbergs.

 

She said they were bigger than the mountains.

 

Artia looked giddy, but being the diligent student she was, she didn’t complain.

 

A few days later, Artia went to her second uncle Derek’s house.

 

His wife, Monchère, greeted her with a gruff accent.

 

“Welcome, niece~.”

 

“Thank you for allowing me to visit, Auntie.”

 

“Oh, you have nothing to be grateful for. It runs in the family.”

 

Monchère laughed heartily, boldly revealing her fondness for Artia.

 

‘She never used to be like this before…’

 

Monchère had no interest in Artia. She wasn’t mean and bullying, but she didn’t really care.

 

Perhaps that’s why she’s changed so much…

 

‘Perhaps because I became an Ethereal.’

 

In the eyes of Madame Monchère, who was as extravagant and ostentatious as a typical noblewoman, Artia as an Ethereal would have been quite a treat.

 

Artia was not at all disdainful of Madame Monchère’s transformation.

 

‘On the contrary, it makes my job easier when she’s so clear about what she wants.’

 

Artia, seated at the lavishly set tea table, looked at the empty chair next to the Madame and said,

 

“I guess my uncle is still very angry with me.”

 

After Crank was sent to prison for his role in Artia’s kidnapping, Derek came to visit her.

“No matter how guilty you are, you’re still family. Go to the judge and plead with him that you don’t want my brother punished!”

 

As he coughs up blood, Artia asks him.

 

“Would uncle do that if he was in my situation?”

 

“Of course. I can forgive him even if he tried to take my life. We are blood brothers.”

 

“But you didn’t shed a single tear when my father died.”

 

“Well, that’s because I don’t have a thread of affection for my big brother…”

 

“Neither do I. I don’t have a thread of affection for Uncle Crank, any more than you do for me.”

 

“That’s because…”

 

“You don’t have to make excuses, because if you cared about me at all, you would have asked if I was okay, but the way you’ve been talking about yourself, I’ve realized that there’s more distance between us than anyone else.”

 

Artia adds in a calm voice.

 

“I guess if we’re going to be a family, we’re going to have to work together, aren’t we, Uncle?”

 

Derek’s eyes widened as if he’d been slapped on the back of the head, and he spoke in a bitter voice.

 

“You are so uncharacteristically like your father, how disappointing, Artia.”

 

Derek snorted, his face gaunt.

 

 

 

‘You have the nerve to visit your niece and tell her such a ridiculous story, and you don’t even visit your brother because you think he’ll get sick in prison.’

 

That’s what she wanted to say.

 

Artia replied inwardly, saying something she didn’t mean to say.

 

“He’s afraid he’ll be more upset if he sees Uncle Crank.”

 

“My niece has a heart as big as the ocean.”

 

Artia smiled shyly at Monchere’s compliment.

 

“I’m glad that even my aunt welcomed me.”

 

“Oh, I should welcome you with open arms. The family’s prestige, which had plummeted to rock bottom under Mr. Crank, has only been restored by your becoming an Ethereal, and if it weren’t for you, I would have been so embarrassed that I would have been unable to show my face in society.”

 

It was just as Artia had read in the papers she’d been given.

 

Monchère was a loud-mouthed, greedy, short-thinking, simple-minded woman who she could see right through.

 

It was easy to get her on her side.

 

Artia handed Monchère a white envelope. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

 

“Is this…!”

 

“Yes, it’s an invitation to a banquet at Edenberg Manor in a few days.”

 

After becoming an Ethereal, Artia’s popularity skyrocketed. However, Artia didn’t throw many banquets.

 

In other words, demand was high, and supply was low.

 

So, the banquets at Edenberg Manor took on a special significance for the noblewomen. Once you’ve been to one, you’ve got ten stories to tell.

 

“I’m attending with my partner,” Artia said to Monchère, who looked impressed and took the envelope in her hand. “But would you and my uncle be able to come?”

 

“Of course, of course!”

 

Monchère’s little eyes sparkled with excitement. She would have brought her along on a leash.

 

Artia smiled wryly.

 

‘Uncle Derek is living under the thumb of her aunt.’

 

There’s no point in trying to get close to him, then, when he is so obviously offended by the sight of his niece.

 

If I can win the heart of his wife, Madame Monchère, that will be enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Having gotten along with the second uncle (?), it was time for the third uncle.

 

Unlike the second uncle, who was cold to Artia’s visits, the third uncle came to her on his own initiative.

 

Ian, the youngest of the five siblings and still a young man, shouted curiously.

 

“What in the world do you think you’re doing pestering Sister Evangeline?”

 

His voice was so raspy it hurt her ears.

 

Artia clapped her hands over her ears.

 

“No, I’m not obsessing, I’m just looking up to her out of respect, because she’s a wonderful woman with all the right qualities.”

 

“By the way…”

 

Ian nodded, then snapped out of it and growled.

 

“Don’t bother my sister anymore. She doesn’t have enough time on her hands to pay attention to a kid like you.”

 

Still, Ian was an asshole. His condescension toward Artia was palpable.

 

Instead of pointing it out, Artia thought of something else she knew about Ian.

 

‘Crazy about his sister.’

 

Ian lost his mother shortly after he was born. Evangeline took care of him in her absence.

 

Raised by his eldest sister, his affection for her was beyond the norm.

 

‘He doesn’t just hate me, he’s jealous.’

 

A childish, manipulative way of thinking about what would happen if Evangeline’s attention was taken away from him.

 

That was the game plan for Ian von Edenberg’s.

 

“My aunt has told me many things.”

 

Ian’s face twisted at Artia’s words.

 

It was almost annoying that Artia was pretending to be so friendly with Evangeline, calling her aunt and auntie.

 

Then Artia whispered to him as if she were telling him a great secret.

 

“My aunt says you are her favorite.”

 

In an instant, Ian’s eyes changed from that of a temperamental hyena to a meek dog.