The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 63

From an early age, she devoted much of her life to her family.

 

As soon as she turned eighteen, she was given in marriage to the Marquis of Glosta, who was more than ten years her senior.

 

To marry in the best interests of the family.

 

Her choice proved correct.

 

As the Marquise of Glosta, she was able to use the power of the marquise to look out for her untitled siblings.

 

The elders were impressed that Evangeline cared so deeply for them, unlike Benedict, who ignored them and acted selfishly.

 

“You are the only one who gives for us.”

 

The younger siblings followed Evangeline more closely than Benedict, the patriarch, and her influence grew stronger as time went on.

 

So much so that she attended meetings of the Elders of House Edenberg even while wearing another family’s surname.

 

Artia spoke once more through the veil.

 

“I request a private audience, Auntie.”

 

The elders jumped to their feet in surprise.

 

“What in the world are you talking about? We’re the ones you need to talk to!”

 

“But it’s not you uncles I want to convince, it’s Auntie.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Well, if you want things to go right, you have to talk to the boss, not the subordinates.”

 

The faces of the elders who had become her aunt’s subordinates twisted, but not the woman behind the curtain.

 

The corners of her red lips lifted, and a low chuckle escaped.

 

“You say funny things.”

 

The voice was low and husky.

 

It was so low that only Artia, who was directly in front of the curtain, could hear it.

 

A moment later, Evangeline’s stern voice rang out.

 

“Everyone, please step aside for a moment.”

 

The Elders’ panic was palpable.

 

As they hesitated, Evangeline’s voice continued.

 

“I’m not trying to be a captain, as Artia says, but a woman knows a woman’s heart, and I’ll talk to her.”

 

The Elders exchanged glances, then nodded.

 

“I see.”

 

Ian, the youngest of the Elders, glared at Artia and spoke up.

 

“I know you’re out of your mind, but you’re going to show some respect for our sister.”

 

If she didn’t, he was going to punch her.

 

‘Such a look from a man who never seemed to care about family. He must be sincere in his affection for his eldest sister.’

 

She was surprised.

 

After a while, the elders left, and the room fell silent.

 

“Draw the curtain, please.”

 

At Evangeline’s command, Artia pulled back the curtain.

 

Evangeline was revealed, sitting rigidly in her chair.

 

Silver hair, almost white, bright red eyes.

 

Artia bowed to the woman who bore the thick blood of the Dukes of Edenberg.

 

“I’m pleased to meet you, auntie.”

 

“I haven’t seen you since Benedict’s funeral. How are you?”

 

“I don’t know, but I’ve been as well as my aunt knows how.”

 

“They say your personality changed after your near-death experience. You seem like a different person.”

 

Evangeline said as Artia shrugged her shoulders.

 

“Well, what do you have to tell me?”

 

Evangeline was sitting down, and Artia was standing up.

 

Still, Artia felt Evangeline looking down on her. It was intimidating.

 

Looking into her intense red eyes, Artia opened her mouth.

 

“This is the first time I’ve ever realized,” she said,” that I may be the Duchess of Edenberg in name only, but I have no power.”

 

“…….”

 

“I need strength, at least the strength to not marry a man I don’t want.”

 

So where to get that strength?

 

It wasn’t hard, Artia concluded.

 

“I need you to be on my side, Auntie.”

 

But in contrast to Artia’s determined voice, Evangeline’s expression didn’t change.

 

Evangeline opened her mouth with an unreadable expression.

 

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to convince the elders, not me.”

 

“As I said before, there’s no point in trying to convince them, since the current head of the Duchy of Edenberg is Aunt Evangeline von Edenberg.”

 

For the first time, Evangeline’s expression changed.

 

She looked as if she’d been punched in the face.

 

“I married and changed my name. My name is Evangeline von Glosta now.”

 

“I don’t deny that” I said,” but you are Evangeline von Edenberg, not just the Marquise Evangeline von Glosta. A change of surname doesn’t take away your blood.”

 

Artia added.

 

“My aunt is the eldest of the Dukes of Edenberg. I have the utmost respect for the elders.”

 

Evangeline’s red eyes glowed with a strange light.

 

“I didn’t realize you were so good at saying things that sound good.”

 

“I didn’t say it to sound nice, I meant it.”

 

Evangeline let out a small laugh at Artia’s words.

 

But just as quickly as the mood softened, the air turned chilly with Evangeline’s next words.

 

“But what can I do, I have no intention of helping you…”

 

“…….”

 

“As you know, I didn’t get along with your father. I have no feelings for you either.”

 

She was right.

 

Benedict was at odds with his brothers throughout his life; the word that characterized their relationship was not “family,” but “enemy”.

 

After Benedict’s death, things didn’t change much.

 

But Artia had no choice but to bow to Evangeline.

 

She was the one who could give her the strength she needed.

 

“I’m not going to ask you to help me because we’re family, because we’re the same woman. I’m going to show you that I’m worthy of your support.”

 

Evangeline’s expression remained frosty despite her confident niece’s words.

 

“You are where you are because your father was the Duke of Edenberg, and the reason your father became the Duke of Edenberg was because he was born the first son of the family, and no amount of ability played a part in that, only luck.”

 

“…….”

 

“And what do you have to show for it?”

 

The red eyes glowed fiercely.

 

Artia read the emotion in them.

 

Anger, jealousy, enmity at not getting what she wanted in the end.

 

Turning to the woman, whose gaze was never favorable, Artia replied.

 

“Whatever you want, aunt.”

 

“…….”

 

Evangeline locked eyes with Artia.

 

Her normally frightened pink eyes were glowing so brightly they looked red.

 

Evangeline hated Artia.

 

It wasn’t personal but being Benedict’s daughter was reason enough to hate her.

 

But at this moment, Artia was no longer the daughter of the brother she hated so much.

 

She was merely a loving flesh-and-blood who cried out for Evangeline’s strength.

 

‘Haah… The daughter of my least favorite bastard gives me my favorite look.’

 

Clicking her tongue, Evangeline opened her mouth.

 

“If you’re so eager to show me, let’s see. See if you’re worthy of my support.”

 

Evangeline turned to Artia, who clenched her fists.

 

“Be this year’s Ethereal.”

 

Artia’s pink eyes, which had been shining with hope, suddenly went blank.

 

‘What was she saying?’

 

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of every year, an imperial banquet is held.

 

At that banquet, a very special event takes place: the selection of the most beautiful and elegant woman in society for the year.

 

She is named the Ethereal.

 

The one who receives the most recommendations from the noblewomen at the banquet becomes the Ethereal.

 

In other words, it was a title that could be earned not only through power, but also through the support of noblewomen.

 

“You expect me, who’s been sitting in the corner of the room, to do that?” Artia said to Evangeline, whose mouth hung open in bewilderment.

 

“Not if you don’t want to.”

 

Artia shook her head. “I meant it when I said I’d show you anything, and I was prepared to accept anything less.”

 

Even if it meant making the regal Empress laugh like a girl, she would comply.

 

For Evangeline, it was worth it.

 

“Go for it, Ethereal.”