The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 55

When Helen finally lowered her hand, Humphrey entered the room.

 

His eyes widened at the sight of Helen alone. Before he could ask where Artia had gone, Helen spoke.

 

“Honey, Julie came to see me.”

 

“…….”

 

“She must have been worried about you acting like that. She’s usually a good girl.”

 

“…….”

 

“I told Julie I was fine, so she said goodbye and not to worry about her because I’m finally…” 

 

“…….”

 

Tears began to trickle from Helen’s swollen eyes again. Humphrey patted Helen’s back with reddened eyes.

 

 

 * * *

 

 

After leaving the mansion, Artia snuck back in and found Count Humphrey.

 

Humphrey greeted her.

 

“Helen told me that she and Julie said goodbye to each other. What happened?”

 

Artia told him what she had heard from Helen, except for Julie’s secret.

 

Humphrey was surprised.

 

“You’re saying Julie didn’t want to get married?”

 

“Yes. She talked to Aunt Helen about it, and I think she got so emotional that she fell out of the window.”

 

Humphrey covered his face with a crumpled hand.

 

He actually knew.

 

The idea of his grown daughter accidentally falling out of a window was absurd.

 

Julie had fallen on her own.

 

But he’d desperately closed his eyes to that fact.

 

Humphrey hadn’t had the courage to face his own sins that had driven their daughter to this decision, or to admit that their daughter had suffered so much.

 

But now he could no longer run away like a coward.

 

Humphrey wrung his hands and sobbed.

 

“I’m sorry, Julie. Forgive your ugly father.”

 

Artia stood silently, listening to the old man’s anguished words.

 

After a while, Humphrey, finally able to compose himself, bent down to her.

To Artia’s astonishment, he said, “Thank you for all you have done for me. You don’t have to do the Juliette impersonation anymore.”

 

“What are you going to do about the wedding?”

 

“Cancel it, now that the bride is gone. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

 

Humphrey’s face showed no sign of regret as he said this.

 

“The money I promised you is in the carriage, so I’ll say goodbye.”

 

“…….”

 

When Artia first came here, she had no blood ties, only a need for money.

 

Still, she felt a warmth of love here.

 

Even if it was for her daughter and not for her.

 

“You should be happy that things ended well, not sad.”

 

Artia handed Humphrey the leather bag, confused by the stabbing pain in her chest.

 

“This is the bag Aunt Helen gave me earlier,” she said, “and when I opened it, I found it filled with packages that I believe belonged to her.”

 

But Humphrey shook his head.

 

“Helen gave it to you, so take it.”

 

“But…”

 

“Consider it your aunt’s allowance. It’s the least she can do for her nephew.” Humphrey’s voice interrupted.

 

“Do you mind if I write to you once in a while?”

 

It wasn’t over…

 

It was a connection that would last.

 

Artia smiled, tears welling up in her eyes.

 

“Of course.”

 

Humphrey’s wrinkled eyes smiled back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A moment later, Artia climbed into the carriage Humphrey had prepared for her.

 

As she looked out of the carriage window at the mansion, she thought back on the events of the night.

 

The morning greeting she’d shared with Helen in an embrace.

 

The way Helen had placed small morsels of food on Artia’s plate.

 

The beautiful garden they’d walked through arm in arm.

 

The smile on Helen’s face as she looked at Artia with such deep affection.

 

“I was happy, Mommy.”

 

With Artia’s words, the carriage pulled away from the mansion.

 

But something had been so traumatic that she had forgotten for a moment. It wasn’t until much later that Artia realized it, and she cried out, her hands trembling.

 

“Prince Killian!”

 

Artia stuck her face out of the window. She could see the mansion in the distance.

 

Artia looked like she was about to cry and mumbled.

 

“I’m going to die after paying all my debts…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Blührens’ mansion. 

 

Killian lay in his room, unaware of what had happened during the night.

 

He stared deadly at the hand that had touched Artia earlier.

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the moment he’d touched it.

 

The moment her small, white fingers had touched his, lightning had shot through his body like a bolt of electricity.

 

‘Did she use magic?’

 

He thought to himself.

 

But there was nothing magical about her. No wonder.

 

‘Then why am I feeling this?’

 

Before he realized the answer, Artia’s hand came over his.

 

At that moment, Killian was even more shocked than he had been a moment before.

 

‘Is that your hand?’

 

It was so small and soft and slender and… warm.

 

It didn’t look like a human body part, but a single warm drop of water.

 

The more time passed, the blanker his head became. His heart was racing. The blood in his body was rushing uncontrollably.

 

It was only because of his training as a prince that he didn’t show the slightest sign of confusion, as if he was facing a catastrophe.

 

If it weren’t for that, he would have pulled her hand away immediately.

 

…or crushed her hand.

 

‘I wonder what I would have done if the countess hadn’t walked in…’

 

Killian looked at his hand with a complicated expression, then at the window.

 

The dark night sky was beginning to lighten.

 

“The wedding is in a little while.”

 

He meant what he had said to Artia.

 

He had come here just to find out what she was doing all this way.

 

Killian didn’t really care about the added bonus of having to walk down the aisle as a fake groom.

 

After killing dozens of enemies on the battlefield and dealing with men with knives in their hearts in the Imperial Palace, it was a piece of cake.

 

But when the time came, his heartbeat quickened.

 

Uncharacteristically.

 

He awoke to the morning sun without sleep.

 

The payoff.

 

The tightly closed door opened and Humphrey walked in, his eyes puffy from what he’d done the night before.

 

“The wedding is off, please go home.”

 

“……?!”

 

A thunderous boom. Lightning flashed into Killian’s golden eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Mrs. Edenberg has come to see you.”

 

At the servant’s words, Shylovk lifted his glasses and looked up.

 

A moment later, Artia entered the study.

 

Shylock raised an eyebrow.

 

“I heard you weren’t feeling well enough to go out, but you look fine.”

 

A sarcastic remark about Artia’s trick.

 

In other words, Shylock was still unaware that Artia had been away from the manor all this time.

 

If he had known, he would have interfered with her somehow.

 

Shylock smiled arrogantly, mistaking Artia’s silence for embarrassment.

 

“Today is the day of payment, so what choice do you have, will you give me Lake Annecy or become my brother’s bride?”

 

Artia, sitting across from him, grinned.

 

“Your choice is so selfish. I won’t give you Lake Annecy and I won’t marry your brother.”

 

“……?!”

 

Shylock’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected reaction.

 

“Vivi.”

 

The door opened at the same time as Artia’s voice, and Vivi walked in carrying a box large enough for four men.

 

Thump!

 

Vivi slammed the box down on Shylock’s shoulder, as if she wanted to bring it down on him. 

 

Shylock’s shoulders stiffened involuntarily, then he lifted the lid.

 

“This is…”

 

Inside the box was a mountain of one blanc (the Empire’s lowest denomination).

 

“That’s 1.5 billion gold in principal, plus 3 billion gold in interest. Check it out. It’s going to take a while, though, with three billion coins.”

 

“……!”

 

Shylock’s face hardened.

 

He had cut off all avenues for her to get the money.

 

The elders of House Edenberg, nobles in the loan business, even merchants who might buy her wares.

 

‘Where the hell did,she get the money?’

 

Shylock wondered, and then Artia answered.

 

“I don’t want to give it away to some scoundrel who might try to use it against me in some nefarious scheme…”