The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 130

 In her foggy memory, Artia remembered the moment she kissed Killian vividly.

 

The funny thing is, despite the tears and embarrassment, she doesn’t feel the slightest bit of regret. 

 

“It felt so good…”

 

The memory of that soft, hot touch sent shivers down her spine.

 

“Keep going.”

 

Artia muttered, her face bright red.

 

“How could I have seen your highness…”

 

Artia, who had been jumping up and down, finally regained her composure after drinking the mint tea Vivi had brought her.

 

Vivi held out a note to Artia.

 

“It was stuck in the crack of the door.”

 

Artia shook her head and opened the paper. 

 

To her surprise, it was from Killian.

 

“I’ll go first. ”

 

Four words. 

 

Artia understood. 

 

The fact that the arrogant, selfish prince had written to her at all meant he cared about her. But…

 

“I wanted to go back with him…”

 

Artia blurted out, surprising herself with the amount of regret in her voice. 

 

She felt Vivi’s gaze on her, and she apologized.

 

“I just thought it would be a good idea to go with him since he’s here, it doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Vivi’s short answer made her face heat up even more. 

 

Knowing that saying more would only make her look even more suspicious, Artia chose to sip her tea in silence.

 

“Well, it’s good that he was embarrassed to see me. I’m not here to play, so I’ll just get over it and go about my business.”

 

As planned, Artia stayed in Reju for a few days, attending various performances before returning to the Empire. 

 

Afterward, she locked herself in her room, reading, writing, and thinking.

 

A few days later, her pink eyes flashed above her sleep-deprived lids.

 

“Let’s do it.”

 

Artia emerged from her room, dressed like a human being, and went to find Evangeline.

 

Evangeline read over the papers Artia had brought with her.

 

“I’ve only tended to the household since my marriage, and I know nothing of business. But even I, with my limited knowledge, find this quite interesting.”

 

Next, she went to see Count Golgus. 

 

He read the papers from cover to cover at breakneck speed, his eyes shining like he’d just discovered a diamond mine.

 

“I would like to invest, is that possible?”

 

Artia smiled at the better-than-expected response.

 

“That’s very kind of you, but since I’m trying to get all of House Edenberg’s businesses organized and off the ground, I’d like to keep it family property only.”

 

“That’s too bad.”

 

Count Golgus shrugged his massive shoulders, but didn’t speak of the investment afterward. Instead, he pointed to a few papers. 

 

Artie, scribbling notes all over the paper, bowed low.

 

“Thank you, Master!”

 

A duchess to a count. 

 

Count Golgus was quite fond of the bizarre nickname, and he smirked.

 

“If you have any other questions, come to me, apprentice.”

 

“Yes!”

 

The comments were heard and corrected. 

 

Now all Artia had to do was put the paperwork into action.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dahlia headed to the publishing house for the first time in a long time. 

 

She didn’t go to the publisher unless she had a manuscript to drop off so as not to reveal her identity as Redlip, but the reason for her move was a letter from Dan, the publisher.

 

“Dear Author, I need to speak with you at length about your work. ”

 

‘What could it be? Could it be that the publisher is going out of business?’

 

Dahlia opened the old door without much thought. Her eyes widened.

 

Dan and Artia were sitting in a room that smelled of paper and ink.

 

Dahlia didn’t hide her surprise.

 

“What are you doing here, Artia?”

 

Artia was the only one who knew that Dahlia was a Redlip. 

 

But Artia never talked about Redlip unless Dahlia was drunk and talking nonsense. 

 

So she couldn’t imagine why Artia was sitting there.

 

Artia stood up and bowed politely.

 

“Good evening, Ms. Redlip. I’ve requested this meeting through your publisher because I have a proposal regarding your work.”

 

Artia’s appearance was completely different than usual. 

 

Instead of her girlish smile, Artia wore a calm adult face and held out a stiff sheaf of papers to Dahlia.

 

“Do you mind if I look at the papers and explain?”

 

Dahlia looked at Artia in disbelief, not understanding what the hell was going on.

 

“You want to produce “The Northern Grand Duke’s Burning Heart” as a performance?”

 

“That’s right, a well-crafted performance has more impact than a book, and you can expect to make more money.”

 

But Dahlia couldn’t nod enthusiastically.

 

The Empire was a deeply conservative place, and the arts were no different. 

 

The performance culture of the empire was centered around the imperial court, and it often dealt with the history and mythology of the empire. 

 

In such an atmosphere, performing a story like “The Northern Grand Duke’s Burning Heart” would be a bit of a stretch…

 

Dahlia said with a stern face.

 

“We’ll be criticized as soon as we show it.”

 

Artia didn’t deny it.

 

“I’m sure it will, and it will be cheered more than criticized, just like Ms. Redlip’s novel was.”

 

When Ms. Redlip’s novel had just come out, the noblewomen had denounced it as vulgar, but they couldn’t wait to read it. It was hard to find a copy. 

 

Now, on her fifth novel…

 

“The ladies don’t hide their love for your work anymore.”

 

There were some tongue-in-cheek remarks about how embarrassing it was for such ladies, but it wasn’t as absolute as it once was. 

 

Redlip’s work has become more recognized.

 

“Your work is both tongue-in-cheek and deeply human, and it doesn’t just titillate you, it moves you, and if you can get that right, you can rock an empire.”

 

She wasn’t just spouting off. They weren’t flattery.

 

Artia’s voice carried a powerful conviction.

 

Dahlia, who had been secretly writing stories since childhood, had never been looked at like that before. 

 

Dahlia asked, her voice trembling.

 

“Do you really think so?”

 

“Yes, I really do, which is why I chose your work to be the first production of the Edenberg Company.”

 

Dahlia remembered what Marigold had told her.

 

“Tia is starting a business. Not as a hobby for a lady, but as the family’s main business. She’s so fierce with that innocent face.”

 

‘I never thought that business would involve me…’

 

Artia turned to Dahlia, still in disbelief.

 

“Again, there’s no business involved for you, you’re just giving us the rights to produce your work as a show, and Edenberg takes all the risk.”

 

Artia held out another document to Dahlia.

 

“All you have to do is look over the terms of the contract and decide if you want to go through with it.”

 

Dahlia’s eyes widened as she read the document.

 

“You’re offering me this much as a down payment?”

 

Not only that, but it also said that a portion of the proceeds from the show would be paid to the author.

 

Artia said,

 

“Just in case you don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not offering this because I’m a fan, or because I’m a friend. I’m offering it because I’m a businessman and I think your work is worth it, and I want you to join us.”

 

Dan, who had been listening, interrupted Artia.

 

“Ms. Artist, this is an incredible opportunity. If the show is a success and your work becomes more famous, you’ll be sitting on an even bigger pile of money than you are now. There’s no reason not to!”

 

But Dahlia couldn’t help but nod.

 

“What if it’s performed, and then things get out of hand and my identity is discovered?”

 

She was terrified.

 

To have the world find out that she was the author of a novel that was criticized for being trashy.

 

Dahlia lowered her eyes and thought. 

 

Dan shuffled his feet in case she didn’t accept the contract, but Artia waited quietly for her answer.

 

After a long moment, Dahlia slowly opened her mouth.

 

“I’ll take the contract.”