The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 60

I had originally planned to tell my guests and cancel the wedding, but I changed my mind and threw a banquet.

White tables set in a flowering garden, a picture-perfect setting, and delicious food.

The guests arrived at the banquet, which had been carefully prepared.

The planned fake wedding had turned into an ordinary banquet in a day, but none of the guests asked about it. They just smiled and made normal, everyday conversation.

Helen did the same.

When I saw her laughing and talking about flowers and food, asking how the other person was doing, I forgot that I was supposed to be a gentleman, and tears welled up in my eyes.

The people who saw me asked me if I had dust in my eyes and tried to defend my honor.

At the end of the banquet, Helen said to the guests.

“Gentlemen, when you came to Juliette’s funeral twenty years ago, I didn’t even get to greet you properly, did I?”

At that moment, a hush fell over the room.

They were surprised, and so was I.

Twenty years earlier, on the day of the wedding-turned-funeral, Helen had fainted repeatedly while calling Julie’s name.

She never made it to the funeral because she was in no condition to do so.

Helen’s voice trembled as she spoke to the mourners, who were stunned by the memory.

“Thank you for mourning my daughter’s death that day and today.”

I knew then that…

Helen had truly let Juliet go.

That today’s banquet was Juliet’s funeral, reenacted after 20 years.

I finally burst into tears that I had been holding back. The honor of a gentleman no longer mattered to me at all.

Helen was different after that day.

She no longer lay in a dark room with the curtains drawn.

In the mornings, she gets up, eats, and walks in the garden.

Her Juliet-like blue eyes still hold a sadness in them, but it’s not the despair she used to have. They are the eyes of someone who lives life with determination.

Helen has never yet asked me about the fake Juliet who came to stay for a while.

But if that day comes, will you let her know about you, Artia?

 

A few days later, Artia replied.

 

Of course.

When we meet again, please don’t introduce me as Julie, but as your niece, Artia.

 

* * *

 

 

Edenberg mansion. 

 

Artia and Penelope sat facing each other, drinking tea.

 

Penelope, seeing the rain pouring through the window, said. “It’s been raining so hard since this morning.”

 

Artia looked worried. “It’s dangerous to go out in the rain, so you should stay here.”

 

Penelope giggled. “Are you flirting with me?”

 

“Yes, I’m flirting.”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

Penelope cupped her red cheeks with both hands and laughed, then spoke.

 

“It reminds me of the First Prince on a rainy day like this.”

 

“…….”

 

First Prince Arsen of Orpheus.

 

The first child of the Emperor and Empress.

 

But despite his honored position, he is forbidden to even allude to it.

 

“It rained like this the day the First Prince was born, didn’t it?”

 

Artia and Penelope were younger than the First Emperor, but they knew what happened the day he was born.

 

It was a famous story.

 

It rained so hard that it flooded everything and caused landslides.

 

The long-awaited first child of the imperial family was born amidst the screams of the people.

 

“He was miraculously born in the midst of a disaster that angered the gods. He will surely be the one to lead the Empire to glory!”

 

But despite the priest’s cries, the newborn did not cry. No, it couldn’t.

 

His body was not whole enough to breathe.

 

The waiting doctors managed to save him, but he was too weak to live.

 

The empire, the imperial family, the emperor and the empress despaired.

 

The mood was as bad as the stone, and some said that the empire was doomed to fall because of the birth of an ominous prince.

 

Fortunately, the despair was short-lived.

 

A year later, a second prince, Killian, was born.

 

“Uwaahhh!”

 

Kilian cried as soon as he was born, and everything was perfect.

 

His golden eyes were clear, he was brighter than his peers, and he was healthy enough to never be sick.

 

Just when the people had despaired, hope was restored.

 

“His Highness, Prince Killian, who has the blood of our first Emperor, His Majesty Orpheus, will lead the Empire to glory!”

 

But there was a problem: He was the second Emperor.

 

The Empire followed the principle of first-born succession, and the Imperial family was no different.

 

The people’s desire for Killian to be the next emperor soon turned against Arsen.

 

“If only Prince Arsen were gone, Killian could become emperor…”

 

There were even those who openly wished for Arsen’s absence.

 

They were aware of public opinion.

 

The imperial family minimized Arsen’s presence, and people stopped speaking his name.

 

It was as if he didn’t exist.

 

Penelope said, “Prince Killian has the trust of the Emperor and the respect of the people, and has acted in the best interests of the Empire enough to fight in the wars for years.”

 

In the end, public opinion overwhelmingly favored Second Emperor Killian over First Emperor Arsen.

 

Artia agreed but…

 

“There are even rumors that Prince Killian will somehow kill Prince Arsen, who is blocking his path to the throne.”

 

She can’t help but nod at the excitement in Penelope’s voice.

 

A few months ago, she would have been just as excited as Penelope, talking with glee.

 

Like she was telling an old story about a beautiful and terrifying demon named Killian von Orpheus.

 

But she couldn’t do that now.

 

She has seen many guises of Prince Killian.

 

The madman who claimed to be cured by dipping his hands in blood every day hadn’t shown any signs of cruelty.

 

On the contrary…

 

He was kind, incredibly kind.

 

The image of him offering Artia a cup of carrot tea and a faint smile flashed through her mind.

 

She drank the tea, embarrassed that her heart was racing.

 

“After all, he’s not as scary as the world makes him out to be.”

 

But it was true that the First Prince Arsen was the biggest obstacle to his ascension to the throne.

 

“Do you think he’d want to get rid of his brother as rumored?” 

 

‘Or will he prove to be nothing like the rumors, as he did with me?’

 

 

* * *

 

 

That time of day, in the gardens of the Imperial Palace. Killian was inside a marble pagoda, looking out at the pouring rain.

 

In front of him sat a man in a wooden wheelchair.

 

The man’s shoulders hunched in the swirling wind, and Killian opened his mouth.

 

“Brother, are you cold?”

 

“Yes, I’m cold.”

 

Prince Arsen replied in a low voice. He was twenty-four years old, and his voice belied his age.

 

Killian knelt down in front of the wheelchair, untied the scarf from around his neck, and began to wrap it around Arsen’s neck.

 

“Aren’t you afraid?”

 

“Of what?”

 

“I could strangle you like this.”

 

Arsen rolled his eyes.

 

“You can do that.”

 

“…sissy.”

 

Killian muttered under his breath and removed his hand, tying the ends of the scarf into a ribbon around Arsen’s neck.

 

As Arsen wrapped the scarf around himself, he looked up at Killian.

 

“I’ll die for you, any way you want, any time you want. That’s the only thing I can do for you.”

 

Killian’s expression turned cold as he heard his brother’s words, words that had been on his lips since childhood.

 

“If you were to die, at any time, in any way, I would be blamed, and I don’t want to be the despicable murderer who killed you.”

 

Arsen’s face fell.

 

“Then what do I do?”

 

“Just live.”

 

‘Go on like this, stay by my side. Don’t die.’