The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 59

Seeing the young, clear hostility in the golden eyes, Shylock realized that excuses would no longer work and shouted.

 

“I will stop the banquet immediately! There will be no more such gambling and no more lending of money at murderous interest.”

 

“That’s not enough.”

 

“Then what more…”

 

“In the five years since you have been Lord of the House, I want you to return all the money you have taken from the people you have lured to the gambling tables and put them in debt, both interest and principal!”

 

Shylock shouted, momentarily forgetting his fear of the mad king.

 

“This is ridiculous! Why should I give them the money, if not the interest, then the principal!”

 

“Don’t pretend to be bitter. The money they lent you and spent at the gambling tables all went into your pocket.”

“……!”

 

“That’s only a fraction of it. If I pay back all the money they took, the Rushans will be broke.” Shylock replied, sounding unconvinced.

 

“Then go bankrupt.”

 

“……!”

 

“If you can’t afford it, kill yourself.”

 

“…….”

 

“If you don’t like it, don’t do anything. At least the first two will make you feel like it was the best choice.”

 

The languid voice was no joke. It was eerily sincere.

 

Shylock looked distressed, then spoke in a sobbing voice.

 

“Oh, God, why are you doing this? I’m not even the kind of thing you dare to care about.”

 

For social justice.

 

To protect the nobility.

 

Instead of uttering such platitudes, Killian spoke up.

 

“You touched Artia von Edenberg.”

 

“……?!”

 

‘Why is that name here?!’

 

Shylock’s mouth dropped open in embarrassment.

 

Killian pointed a second finger at him.

 

“Never appear in front of her again, and if you do, I will…”

 

He moved his finger from side to side.

 

As if to slit Shylock’s throat.

 

“I will.”

 

It was a rather crude, but no less effective phrase Artia had uttered at Baron Crovachon’s banquet the other day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day the capital was in an uproar.

 

Shylock confessed his sins to the people.

 

“Under the pressure of suddenly becoming a vassal and expanding the family business, I did things I shouldn’t have done.”

 

He listed the things he had done.

 

In fact, his behavior was morally reprehensible but not legally punishable.

 

But he was remorseful, and as a way of apologizing, he made an unconventional offer: He would pay back all the money he had taken from the people, with interest.

 

Artia’s first thought on hearing the news was, ‘Is this man crazy?’ Her second thought was, ‘Really?’

 

To her surprise, Shylock was telling the truth.

 

A short time later, a huge box arrived at the Edenberg residence from the Rushans.

 

It was filled to the brim with shiny gold coins. In the end, Artia had given him three billion gold coins.

 

Artia was too stunned to speak.

 

“What in the world is this? Did the angel who watched over everything from heaven just reform the villain?”

 

Whatever had happened, it was a miracle to Artia.

 

She shrugged it off as just lucky to have gotten away with it, but she was really upset.

 

The first thing Artia did was to send Count Humphrey the 2 billion gold.

 

She has no idea how hard it was to receive such a reward for doing what was promised. It’s a lot of money, even for her uncle.

 

Afterwards, she went to the thrift store where he had sold the mansion’s items.

 

“I want to buy back what I sold the other day.”

 

She expected him to ask her for more money than she had sold it for, but he looked strangely horrified.

 

“Just give me what I got for it.”

 

“Did the angel visit this guy too?”

 

In any case, Artia was able to take all her things back, and the empty mansion returned to its original appearance.

 

As if nothing had happened.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That evening, as she read in her room, Artia’s eyes lit up.

 

A black cat had come to visit.

 

“Welcome home, Butterfly!”

 

“…….”

 

“Haven’t we seen each other for a long time? I was afraid you would come while I was away, but you didn’t, did you?”

 

Before leaving the mansion, Artia asked Vivi to take care of Butterfly if he came.

 

Vivi reported that she entered Artia’s room several times a day, checked the window, and even left a bowl of the cat’s favorite treats by the window every morning, but never found the slightest sign of the black cat’s visit.

 

‘I did come but I didn’t think I would eat the cat food.’

 

Killian thought with a sour look in his eyes as he perched on the window ledge.

 

As if Artia had sensed the sentiment, she rattled off the events that had transpired.

 

The huge debts Catherine had incurred, Count Humphrey she’d gone to pay off, and…

 

“I almost got married (fake).”

 

“……!”

 

“And that horrible misogynist.”

 

Artia glared at the black cat and muttered.

 

“Come to think of it, he and you look a lot alike.”

 

“……!”

 

The black cat’s tail perked up at the unexpected comment, and Artia, not noticing it, said innocently.

 

“Black fur, golden eyes, and a face so beautiful it makes you swoon…”

 

The corners of the black cat’s mouth twitched.

 

‘You do have eyes, Artia von Edenberg.’

 

He always wondered if she had an aesthetic problem because she always looked at the floor when she saw him.

 

“I’ve always wondered if there was something wrong with your aesthetic,” Artia said, unaware of the black cat’s arrogance.

 

“We’re the same, right down to our aversion to human contact.”

 

“…….”

 

“This is the look he gave me when I held his hand.”

 

Artia glared at the black cat with a fearsome expression.

 

“He must have been very unpleasant.”

 

It wasn’t that he was offended!

 

Artia grinned at the black cat, who felt the urge to correct her immediately.

 

“I liked it, though.”

 

“……?!”

 

“Because it made me feel a little closer to someone who seemed so far away.”

 

“…….”

 

Artia thought for a moment, then said.

 

“You know, do you mind if I touch you a little?”

 

Artia was careful not to touch Butterfly accidentally. Butterfly didn’t seem to mind.

 

But even Prince Killian, who looked like he was about to go on a rampage like a raging black panther, reacted better than she expected when she touched him, didn’t he?

 

He was scared, but he didn’t really seem to hate it.

 

“Maybe Butterfly can do that too?”

 

It was a small wish that Artia had kept hidden.

 

‘I want to touch him.’

 

To stroke its silky black fur, to feel its warmth.

 

“Of course, I wouldn’t force you if you didn’t want to…”

 

Artia’s eyes widened.

 

The black cat extended one of its front paws toward her.

 

It had an arrogant look on its face, as if to say, “Do what you want.”

 

“You mean I can touch you?”

 

“…….”

 

“…Then excuse me.”

 

Artia cautiously reached out and grabbed the black, round front paw.

 

Wow, it was so much softer, furrier, and warmer than she had imagined!

 

Killian’s brow furrowed as Artia looked ecstatic, as if she had the world at her fingertips.

 

‘You’re so much happier than when we held hands in human form, aren’t you?’

 

‘Why do I feel bad?’

 

 

* * *

 

Dear Artia,

 

I hope you are well, Artia.

I am writing to you because I was wondering how things have been since you left.

The morning after you left, Helen didn’t look for Julie anymore. She didn’t cry.

She was young, but graceful and beautiful, with a longing in her eyes that she couldn’t hide. 

Just as Juliet had been before she died.

Helen said, “My dear, let’s have a banquet.”