The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 62

‘I didn’t mean to be scary.’

 

I just wanted to see her eyes.

 

The curiosity was still there, but he didn’t want to see it at the expense of tormenting a girl the size of a pea.

 

Killian walked past Artia and never approached the little girl again.

 

Months later, in his black cat form, Killian found Artia squatting on the side of the palace.

 

The reactions of those who encountered him in cat form were much different than when he was a prince.

 

They either adored him or ignored him. Either way, no one seemed to find it difficult.

 

Maybe Artia von Edenberg would be the same way.

 

Maybe this time, he could see the color of her eyes.

 

“…….”

 

The black cat padded slowly to Artia’s side.

 

Artia looked up at the sound of soft footsteps.

 

Killian felt his heart drop as he looked into the eyes he’d missed so much.

 

They were so different from his brother’s, so pale and empty.

 

Her eyes were bright, clear, and… pretty, like a cherry blossom pressed into them.

 

The black cat drew his eyebrows together, feeling a strange emotion he had never felt before.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Killian opened his eyes.

 

The girl was still in front of him.

 

‘No. Has she grown?’

 

The round face had grown thinner, and the silver hair that had reached her shoulders had grown much longer, reaching her waist.

 

Most of all, her body….

 

The sight of her full breasts peeking through the thin negligee brought Killian back to his senses.

 

“……!”

 

Sitting up, he realized what was happening.

 

Hours earlier, he had fallen asleep in his cat form.

 

“Sleep somewhere fluffy, Butterfly.”

 

Artia carefully picked up the fluffy black cat and laid him down on her bed, then lay down next to him and purred.

 

So far, so good. But the spell was broken in the middle.

 

A cat and a woman in bed might be cute, but a twenty-three-year-old man wasn’t. 

 

It was far more dangerous than having a hungry lion next to her.

 

Fortunately, Artia, who was fast asleep, seemed to be oblivious to this extraordinary event.

 

‘Let’s go back now.’

 

…But unlike his mind, his body didn’t want to move.

 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Artia.

 

Her silver hair disheveled, her pink lips parted slightly to let a tiny breath escape.

 

The soft lines of her body peeking out from beneath the thin negligee.

 

She was no longer a tiny eight-year-old child, but a full-grown woman, ripening like an apple on an autumn day.

 

“…….”

 

He couldn’t breathe.

 

His mouth was dry.

 

His heart was beating hard.

 

A fever rose in his body.

 

Killian stared at Artia as if mesmerized, and the moment Artia let out a small, “Mmmm.” and rolled over, he turned into a cat and leapt out the window.

 

As if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have and was running away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Artia woke up in the morning, looked at the empty seat next to her, and muttered.

 

“Butterfly, you’re gone.”

 

It would have been nice if he’d stayed.

 

“I hope we can sleep together again some other time.”

 

Artia started her day with a small prayer.

 

Even though she was no longer involved with Shylock, her life was still far from peaceful.

 

The men who had heard that Artia and Simone’s marriage was not going through had begun sending her marriage proposals again.

 

Looking at the stack of letters in Vivi’s hand, Artia said, “It’s chilly out, so these will be perfect for firewood.”

 

Anyone else would have been surprised at how she disposed of the letters, but Vivi didn’t hesitate to throw them all into the hearth.

 

VIvi would have obeyed her master’s orders to find the suitors and destroy them like rats and birds.

 

The letters were easy enough to deal with. The problem was the suitors who came unannounced and without permission.

 

“Please open the door, Frau Edenberg. I would like to have a cup of tea and a chat with you.”

 

Once outside the door, VIvi relayed Artia’s words.

 

“My master has nothing to talk about.”

 

“Why not, after sending me this letter!”

 

Vivi handed the man’s letter to Artia.

 

When Artia read it, she was stunned.

 

“What is this?”

 

The letter was from Artia’s uncle, and it read something like this

 

 

“House Edenberg has you in mind as a possible groom for Artia.

However, she is very shy, so it’s not easy to find a place for her.

If you go to her and actively woo her, I think you’ll have good luck. ”

 

 

“That’s why the suitors have been barging in as if they were invited.”

 

Artia’s pink eyes sparkled as she crumpled the letter envelope she was holding.

 

Artia had avoided meeting her uncles as much as possible. They weren’t even close, let alone family.

 

But now that they had come out like this, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

 

It was time to meet them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Artia arrived at the palatial mansion in her finest dress.

 

She walked confidently and opened the grand door.

 

The benefit.

 

In an extremely aristocratic room, a group of extremely aristocratic-looking men sat in a row.

 

Each with reddish eyes, they were the elder of the current Dukes of Edenberg, the brothers of the former Duke Benedict, and Artia’s uncles.

 

But their eyes showed no sign of pleasure for their nephew.

 

Artia lifted the hem of her skirt at the men, who glared at her with fearsome eyes.

 

“How are you? Long time no see.”

 

But instead of a response, she heard a cold voice.

 

“You say goodbye to the family name, and you say hello to me.”

 

Crank von Edenberg, Benedict’s first brother.

 

“They say a noblewoman divorced without shame. I’m so ashamed of myself that I can hardly carry my face.”

 

Derek von Edenberg, Benedict’s second brother.

 

“If she had done her work, she would have remarried quickly, but why does she refuse every suitor?”

 

Ian von Edenberg. Benedict’s third brother.

 

They attacked their young nephew with one accord, leaving her standing like a criminal in the center of the room.

 

Whether they had done anything wrong or not, the old Artia would have burst into tears and said she was sorry.

 

But the Artia of today looked at the three men calmly.

 

‘They all look just like my father, with their thin faces, teary eyes, and hawkish noses, the stereotypical aristocratic villain.’

 

Phew, thank goodness I look like my mother.

 

Artia opened her mouth in relief.

 

“You were all upset that you couldn’t sell me to Baron Rushan, weren’t you?”

 

The three men’s faces contorted simultaneously at Artia’s words.

 

“Sold? You’ve gotten divorced, and now you’re running your mouth.”

 

“Ooh, we were just worried about the family name. Do you realize how devastating it is to the family name to have the Duke of Edenberg’s seat remain vacant?”

 

“We’ll find you a suitable groom, and you’ll remarry at once!”

 

It was as if three angry hyenas had surrounded a small rabbit and were snarling at it.

 

They wanted to erase the family dishonor somehow.

 

But Artia’s face remained unwavering.

 

“I came to talk to you about it anyway.”

 

Thank goodness it’s not too bad.

 

As the three men breathed a sigh of relief, Artia continued.

 

“But you uncles aren’t the ones I want to talk to.”

 

“What?!”

 

Artia said, walking to the curtain at the back of the room.

 

“I request a private audience, Auntie.”

 

The red eyes of the woman sitting behind the curtain, Evangeline von Glosta, flashed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Evangeline von Glosta.

 

She was the first daughter of Artia’s grandfather, the eldest sister of Benedict and the current Elders.