The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 155

“I like you.”

 

With those words, Killian blacked out again.

 

The doctor, who had rushed to his aid at Artia’s urging, examined him.

 

“His temperature and pulse are both normal. He must have fallen into a deep sleep due to extreme fatigue.”

 

True to his word, Killian closed his eyes and looked very relaxed.

 

Artia was both relieved and tempted to wake him up and yell at him.

 

‘You mess with someone’s mind and then fall asleep!’

 

Her heart was pounding and the veins in her body seemed to be racing.

 

She couldn’t calm down.

 

More so than when the theater burned down.

 

She clasped her hands together, unable to stop trembling, when Nocturne entered the room.

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

Artia spoke quickly, before Nocturne could imagine the horror of seeing Killian with his eyes closed.

 

“There’s nothing wrong, he’s just fallen asleep!”

 

“Ah… I see, then he’ll wake up soon enough.”

 

He looks a little wistful, but she must be mistaken, right?

 

Artia looked at Nocturne through narrowed eyes and realized he didn’t seem too surprised.

 

Artia asked, “Has this ever happened to him before?”

 

Nocturne nodded.

 

“His Majesty is fortunate enough to have never suffered from it, even in battle, but it happens every few years.”

 

Nocturne continued.

 

“When he has used his magic beyond his capacity.”

 

“……!”

 

Nocturne said, turning to Artia, whose eyes widened.

 

“They say he used his magic to put out a fire in the theater.”

 

“Has the rumor spread already?”

 

“No.”

 

Nocturne had heard the news through the rats, the prince’s private intelligence network.

 

It happened late at night, so word was slow to spread.

 

But in a few hours, at dawn, it would explode, and soon the world would know.

 

That Prince Killian, who was supposedly incapable of manifesting magic, could wield such miraculous powers.

 

Artia’s face hardened.

 

“Will it reflect badly on his Majesty?”

 

“He has brought his enemies to their knees and earned the respect of his people even without the power of magic, so I don’t think it will make much difference if it is known that he has even greater powers.”

 

If anything, it would increase support for Killian. But…

 

Nocturne looked at Killian, who closed his eyes.

 

“I don’t know about his majesty, though, since he hasn’t wanted to reveal that he can use magic.”

 

Seeing Artia’s stony face, Nocturne added.

 

“Ah, well, apart from that, I’m sure he’s quite pleased with himself for putting out the fire, but he’s a stubborn prince, and he has to do what he wants to do, not what his intuition tells him to do.”

 

Nocturne gave him a soft look.

 

“So don’t worry about this one. His Majesty will take care of it.”

 

Artia smiled weakly, sensing Nocturne’s desire to put me at ease.

 

“I will, thank you.”

 

As much as Artia wanted to stay by Killian’s side, she couldn’t.

 

“I have to get back to my performance.”

 

Nocturne’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You’re going ahead with the fire?”

 

Artia nodded.

 

“I’ll be back as soon as the show’s over, but until then, may I ask his highness for a favor?”

 

“……!”

 

Nocturne’s eyes grew even wider than they had been a moment ago.

 

Since becoming the prince’s chamberlain at the age of twelve, it had always been Nocturne’s job to take care of Killian.

 

Maids, maidservants, nobles, and even the emperor himself would ask Nocturne about the prince’s condition.

 

Seeing Artia, who considers it her job to take care of Killian, makes him feel…

 

‘It’s too good!’

 

Nocturne replied, looking refreshed, as if freed from a tedious duty.

 

“Yes, I’ll take care of him for a while, so come and get him as soon as you can!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Artia headed back to the theater.

 

Lam and the actors had gathered there after hearing the news.

 

To everyone’s surprise, Lam was in the worst condition.

 

Lam, his eyes puffy from crying, rushed to Artia.

 

“Mrs. President, what can I do about this?” he asked.

 

As Lam sobbed bitterly, Artia calmly said,

 

“Calm down, the curtain will rise on the show this evening as scheduled.”

 

“What?!”

 

Artia looked at the building.

 

The inexplicable flames had looked like they were going to burn the entire building down, but when they finally put out the flames, the damage was less than expected.

 

But there was a lot of soot on the exterior and interior.

 

“We have 12 hours until show time, so we can do a lot of restoration by then.”

 

As soon as Artia finished speaking, dozens of maids and servants rushed in, cleaning tools in hand.

 

They were the workers of Edenberg Manor.

 

Susan stood at the head of the line; her eyes blazing.

 

“Let me show you the power of the mansion’s maintenance experts.”

 

At her command, the workers began to clear away the debris of the fire and clean the sooty building.

 

They weren’t the only ones.

 

“Artia!”

 

Andi and Freesia, the costume designers for the show, arrived.

 

Dozens of fabrics were stacked in a huge wheelbarrow they pulled.

 

“We brought all the fabric we have in the store, just in case!”

 

Fortunately, the fire was on the outside wall, so the stage costumes inside the building were not damaged.

 

But some curtains and decorations were burned.

 

Andi used the cloth she had brought to focus on the burned areas.

 

Freesia helped her.

 

When the workers were panting with exertion, Marigold appeared.

 

“Sorry, I’m a little late, I had a lot to prepare.”

 

Marigold had filled five wagons with drinks and food.

 

“Eat, everyone, and if you need anything, just tell me and I’ll get it right away.”

 

That wasn’t all.

 

She brought all 300 servants who worked in the mansion.

 

“Each one of them is skilled,” she said, “so eat up!”

 

Her exploits didn’t end there.

 

She roared.

 

“Work till you’re blue in the face, because when this is done, I’m going to give you a big bonus!”

 

She added.

 

“Not just the servants who work in my manor, of course, but all of them, because I’m not one of those assholes who pays people by name.”

 

At those words, the workers Marigold had brought with her, as well as those from Edenberg Manor, blinked at the same time and doubled their pace.

 

Dahlia was the last to arrive.

 

She had been contacted a while ago, but the reason for her arrival was her husband.

 

“I’m sorry your friend’s theater caught fire. But it’s not proper behavior for a lady to go out when the sun isn’t up, and it’s a dangerous place that just caught fire.”

 

Dahlia shouted impatiently at her husband, who was trying to stop her.

 

“I’m the author of the play that’s being performed in that theater!”

 

“What?!”

 

Count Gregg looked like he’d been hit in the back of the head with a rock.

 

Dahlia didn’t miss the opportunity to push past him and leave the house.

 

A groan escaped her lips at the sight of the charred building.

 

But she gritted her teeth.

 

She didn’t want to be as foolish as she had been when the manuscript was taken from her on the street.

 

Dahlia said to Artia.

 

“Gather everyone involved in the show in a room that wasn’t affected by the fire, and I’ll help stabilize them and get them ready for the show.”

 

As the creator, Dahlia shared a lot about the show with Artia.

 

Her presence would be a great help, as she had already bonded with Lam and the actors over several meetings.

 

But Artia stiffened.

 

“We’re restoring the theater, so there’s a lot of people, and Marigold and Freesia are there, and they’ll recognize you even if you’re masked.”

 

That meant the whole world would know she was Redlip.

 

But Dahlia laughed.

 

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to hide anymore.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The workers shoved food into their mouths and moved on, sweating profusely.

 

A few hours later…

 

“It’s all… done…”

 

One of the maids collapsed with a thud as she finished her last words.