The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 160

“Master.”

 

“Eh?”

 

Artia, who had been talking to the others, looked up.

 

Mikhail and Sandra, who had been giggling at Lam, widened their eyes at the sight.

 

“You’re going to get drunk, even for the head of the company?!”

 

They both gasped and covered their mouths.

 

They weren’t about to give up the fun.

 

Luca locked eyes with Artia and spoke up.

 

“I like you.”

 

An outright confession!

 

Mikhail and Sandra scrambled to cover each other’s mouths.

 

Lam realized what was happening and joined them.

 

A moment of silence fell over the bustling store.

 

Artia’s eyes widened at the center of everyone’s attention. Then her eyes narrowed.

 

“I like Luca, too.”

 

“……!”

 

Luca could tell, even in his drunken stupor.

 

‘You don’t really see me as a man.’

 

His heart ached like it was going to break.

 

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and before he knew it, Mikhail and Sandra had rushed over, grabbed him by the arms, and led him outside.

 

“Looks like the little bastard’s been drinking a lot.”

 

“He needs to get some air.”

 

As soon as they left the store, Luca burst out crying like a child.

 

“Hmph!”

 

If Luca’s rabid fan club had seen this, they would have screamed, “Who made my kid cry?!” and scrambled to find the culprit and bury him in the ground.

 

Mikhail patted Luca on the back and said,

 

“Luca, first loves are hard to fulfill, even for a guy like me. So don’t get too upset.”

 

Sandra encouraged him.

 

“It’s not too late to give up. You’ll be a better man than you are now, Luca, and she’ll see you again.”

 

Lam, who had finally caught up to them, put on the stern face he’d been practicing with.

 

“You can’t be colorful until you’ve experienced a wide range of emotions. Today’s emotions will be your nourishment.”

 

Mikhail frowned.

 

“How come you’ve never been in a relationship?”

 

Sandra punched Mikhail on the shoulder.

 

“He hasn’t, he can’t.”

 

“Shut up, both of you.”

 

Luca burst into tears as the three comforted him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Artia left the bar earlier than the others.

 

When she returned home, the workers thought to themselves.

 

“If she comes in at the same time every day, even though she’s busy, it must be important to her, too.”

 

But that wasn’t the case.

 

The reason Artia had rushed to… is Killian.

 

Not long after Artia arrived at the room, Killian appeared as if he had been waiting for her.

 

Standing by the window, Artia swept him into a hug.

 

They had met at the theater a few hours earlier, but there were people there, and she had to hold back her feelings for him.

 

It wasn’t until today that Artia was able to come clean with her feelings.

 

“I missed you.”

 

Killian’s piercing eyes curved into crescents at Artia’s words.

 

“Me too.”

 

Killian leaned down and kissed Artia’s white cheek.

 

A side.

 

Artia kissed his cheek in return.

 

The definition of their relationship had changed from friends to lovers, and their love had grown, as if a seal had been broken.

 

“I don’t know how I hid it all this time.”

 

Artia snuggled into Killian’s arms and recounted the day’s events.

 

Killian listened, kissing her cheek instead of answering.

 

Then he looked at his watch and said,

 

“Twelve o’clock.”

 

They had spent many nights together since they became lovers.

 

Killian was fine, but Artia was not.

 

She was weak and had to crawl through her daily schedule looking like she was about to collapse.

 

Seeing this, Killian made a rule.

 

“I’ll get back at twelve o’clock.”

 

“What kind of Cinderella are you?” Artia asked.

 

The sight of Artia blowing into his cheeks made Killian’s heart weak, but he was desperate enough to stick to his rule.

 

Artia grabbed Killian’s arm and sulked.

 

“I don’t think we’ve known each other for more than a second, have you cast a spell on me?”

 

Killian replied, half in jest.

 

“If I had that power, I’d stop time.”

 

“…….”

 

The arrogance in his voice was thrilling.

 

Artia’s heart thudded in her chest.

 

She was glad she didn’t have to hide it anymore, but then she remembered the current situation.

 

The news of the Northern Grand duke’s Burning Heart had been quieter than she’d expected, but the world knew that Killian could use magic.

 

Sensing Artia’s concern, Killian said,

 

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing has changed, except that the voices that say Killian von Orpheus should be Emperor have gotten louder.”

 

As he spoke, Killian’s golden eyes sank heavily.

 

Artia stared into them, then asked cautiously.

 

“Your Highness, is it possible you don’t want to be emperor?”

 

Killian’s eyes widened slightly.

 

To him, being emperor was as natural as his daily studies.

 

He had never once in his life thought about whether he wanted to be emperor or not.

 

His brow furrowed for a long moment before he spoke.

 

“I’m proud to be an imperial, and I have ambitions to make this empire stronger, but when I think of myself as emperor, I can’t imagine myself as…”

 

Killian placed a hand over his heart.

 

“It’s like a rock is weighing down my heart.”

 

He was not pleased at all.

 

The Emperor’s seat had always belonged to Arsen.

 

Before the Empress forbade them to meet, young Killian had gone to Arsen’s room to play, and he and his brother had talked a lot.

 

“When you become emperor,” he said, “I will be a grand duke.”

 

“Grand duke?”

 

“Yes, Grand Duke Orpheus. Isn’t that cool?”

 

“Yes, very cool!”

 

“A Grand duke is the first generation of nobles. I’ll punish all the nobles who don’t listen to you. So don’t worry about your brother, just run the country.”

 

Arsen blinked his pale pigmented eyes and spoke in an unconfident voice.

 

“You think I can do a good job when I’m so weak I can’t even leave my room?”

 

“Of course you can. You’re smart because you read a lot, and my master says you’ll make a great emperor if you have a good head.”

 

Every day Arsen was told he would die.

 

No one, not even the empress, expected anything from him.

 

So his younger brother’s faith was like a treasure to him.

 

Arsèn smiled brightly.

 

“Thank you, Killian.”

 

Killian said, remembering the moment.

 

“All I want is for my brother to be healthy and to ascend to the throne of the Emperor.”

 

His golden eyes were as innocent and wistful as a child’s, and Artia’s heart sank.

 

“The world will never know.”

 

That the man they called a mad king had such a tender, warm side.

 

Artia took Killian’s hand.

 

“He’s strong enough to have endured so many illnesses, Warlord Arsen, and I know he’ll get better.”

 

Words as unrealistic as saying a man could fly.

 

Still, the words were sincere, and the corner of Killian’s mouth lifted.

 

As if comforted.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Killian finally said goodbye to Artia and returned to the palace.

 

As the days passed, it was hard to part with her.

 

He longed to hold her small, soft body in his arms, to smell her faint scent, to hear her voice.

 

‘We just parted a little while ago, and I miss her already…’

 

Killian’s eyes widen as he enters the bedroom with a confused look on his face.

 

In the huge room was Arsen in a wooden wheelchair.

 

“How did you get here…”

 

Arsen smiled a faint smile.

 

“I asked Nocturne to let me in.”

 

Nocturne, who was standing next to Arsen, looked over at Killian and smiled awkwardly.

 

Nocturne never let anyone into his chambers without Killian’s permission. Not even the Emperor.

 

But Arsen was special.

 

Killian put him first.

 

Knowing his master’s heart, Nocturne could not turn him away. Instead, he stayed by Arsen’s side the entire time.

 

Nocturne’s excuse was that he was taking care of Arsen, but inwardly, he was watching Killian’s room to make sure he didn’t do anything suspicious.

 

Whether he realized it or not, Arsen smiled innocently.

 

“Thank you for waiting on Killian with me, Nocturne.”

 

A sting.

 

Nocturne lowered his head, feeling his conscience pricked.

 

“My apologies.”