The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 135

Part of her wanted to, but right now, Vivi was holding the old man.

 

It was not easy for even Vivi to subdue someone while carrying an old man.

 

If she made a mistake, she could find herself surrounded by people who hated her people.

 

Artia made a quick decision.

 

“Let’s go to the doctor outside of town.”

 

Artia hopped into the carriage she’d parked nearby and headed down the main street to the clinic.

 

“It’s an emergency!”

 

The doctor turned at the sound of Artia’s voice and gasped and screamed.

 

The man who had been carried in by Vivi was an old man with dark brown skin. The doctor said nervously.

 

“I don’t practice slave medicine…”

 

With a bang, Vivi swung her foot and snapped the desk in half.

 

Standing before him, Artia spoke with an uncharacteristically venomous expression.

 

“Do it, unless you want to play pretend with House Edenberg.”

 

Thugs, and high nobility.

 

The doctor nodded, not even pausing to confirm the truth of Artia’s words.

 

Because if he didn’t, it would be his life that was in danger, not the patient’s.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hah…”

 

With a faint gasp, the old man opened his eyes.

 

Artia, who was standing beside the bed, smiled.

 

“I see you’re awake.”

 

“What the hell…”

 

Artia explained the situation to the old man, who was stunned by the strange sight.

 

“You fainted and collapsed, so I brought you to the doctor. They said you overexerted yourself in your weakened state and needed to rest.”

 

The old man stared blankly at Artia’s kind words, then burst into tears.

 

“Thank you for your help.”

 

Artia turned red and pointed to Vivi beside her.

 

“Say hello to her, she’s the one who brought you here.”

 

The old man immediately bowed to Vivi.

 

“Thank you very much.”

 

Vivi replied with a blunt face.

 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Artia said, “Now that you’ve opened your eyes, we’ll be on our way. I’ve told the doctor, so feel free to stay until you’re better.”

 

“Ah…”

 

The old man grabbed Artia by the hem of her skirt.

 

“As you can see, I have nothing to offer you right now, but I will repay the favor, so please show me some respect.”

 

Oh, no. Artia hesitated, then answered honestly.

 

“Artia.”

 

She deliberately didn’t say her last name.

 

She didn’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on the old man.

 

After bowing and leaving the room, Artia approached the doctor, who had a sour look on his face, as if he was being harassed by a malicious patient.

 

‘Why? what?’

 

Artia held out her pocket to the terrified doctor.

 

The doctor’s face instantly lit up as he opened it.

 

There was a gold coin in the pocket.

 

Artia said, “Take good care of him. Just like the other patients.”

 

Artia glanced at the desk that Vivi had smashed in two.

 

“And a new desk.”

 

The doctor nodded vigorously, his face falsely brightening.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Back at the mansion, Artia was lost in thought.

 

As soon as the doctor had seen the old man’s face, he had blurted out that he didn’t treat slaves.

 

He wasn’t the only one.

 

The other patients, seeing the old man in the bed, gave him a displeased look, wondering why there was such a thing in the hospital.

 

They didn’t say much as Vivi flexed her thick arm muscles.

 

Artia was shocked.

 

“I knew Kudran were discriminated against, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

 

It wasn’t just that.

 

The Kudran’s antipathy toward the Empire was beyond her imagination.

 

She vividly remembered the look in the young Kudran enemy’s eyes the moment he saw Artia’s face.

 

‘I wonder if casting Kudranians as actors is too much to ask…’

 

One day, Vivi said, “Master, we have a visitor. It’s the grandson of the old man you helped the other day.”

 

It was an unexpected visitor.

 

Artia didn’t want to keep the unexpected visitor waiting long, so she went straight to the parlor.

 

When she opened the door, a large man stood beside the sofa.

 

Artia’s eyes widened as the man turned to face her.

 

Flaming red hair, smooth brown skin, and intense violet eyes.

 

He had the kind of handsome features that could turn the heads of women wherever he was…

 

“Shine…?!”

 

The man’s eyes widened at the harsh words.

 

Instead of responding to Artia’s unintelligible words, he dropped to his knees.

 

Before Artia could say anything, he lowered his head to the ground and spoke.

 

“Greetings, noble lady.”

 

There was no specific way for a commoner to greet a noble.

 

It was enough to bow out of respect for the superior.

 

Artia had never been greeted like this before.

 

Puzzled, she said, “Look up… No, get up.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Luckily, the man didn’t dare to argue and got up obediently.

 

The man’s face was still beautiful when she looked at it again.

 

‘He’s tall, with a pronounced brow, so he looks mature, but up close he looks younger. Maybe eighteen?’

 

Artia tried to estimate his age, then realized he was still standing.

 

“Unless something is bothering you, would you mind taking a seat?”

 

The man glanced around the room.

 

As far as he could see, there was no place for a lowly Kudran to sit.

 

That left only the couch across from Artia.

 

The man gingerly perched himself on the end of the couch and looked down at the floor, his gaze slightly averted.

 

Like Artia, who had never been able to look a man in the eye before.

 

‘No, not like me.’

 

Rather, he resembled the men before Killian.

 

People who bowed to him with the utmost respect and fear.

 

Artia was a great noblewoman, but she was not so full of herself… no, she looked so good that she had never been treated like this, even by servants.

 

But when it happened to her, she realized… 

 

‘That’s not nice.’

 

She wasn’t proud, but embarrassed.

 

Artia started to tell him to relax and make eye contact, but stopped.

 

That would have made him uncomfortable.

 

Instead, she said something else.

 

“My name is Artia von Edenberg. What is your name?”

 

The man’s eyes widened as if he had heard something unexpected, then he blushed slightly.

 

“Call me whatever you feel comfortable with. Shine is fine.”

 

‘Does he not want to give me his name? Or was he shy?’

 

Artia couldn’t figure out the shy man’s intentions, and though she was tempted to ask for his name, she held her tongue.

 

She didn’t want to reveal what he was trying to hide.

 

Artia said, “I’ll call you Shine, then. Tell me what brings you to me.”

 

“I’m here to thank the doctor who treated my grandfather. The doctor said that if he hadn’t come to the hospital, he might have died. I want to thank you for helping him.”

 

There was sincerity in his trembling voice.

 

Then the man nervously held out his pocket.

 

“It’s not much money, but I hope you’ll take it.”

 

The man was Kudran.

 

His face was gorgeous, but his demeanor was poor; he reminded her of his grandfather.

 

‘I’m sure you can’t afford it,’ she thought, ‘but to come all the way here and offer money is a sign of gratitude.’

 

She couldn’t refuse such a gesture.

 

Artia carefully took the pouch.

 

She opened the pouch and found it filled with low denomination coins, the kind used by commoners and not by nobles.

 

Unlike the gold coins, the crudely made coins were dented and mottled.

 

Turning to Artia, who stared at it, Shine said nervously.

 

“I apologize. I should have put clean money in there for you.”

 

Artia didn’t have to look at him to know what had happened.

 

He would have been thrown out of the exchange as soon as he walked in the door for being a Kudran.

 

It’s not uncommon for a congressman, whose job is to save lives, to be thrown out.

 

Artia shrugged it off as no big deal.

 

“It’s the same money, shiny or dirty.”

 

“……!”

 

“But there’s too much of it.”

 

Artia removed a few coins and handed the pouch back to Shine.

 

“I’ll only take the money I gave the doctor. That way I’ll feel better.”