The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 64

Locking eyes with Evangeline, Artia spoke with authority.

 

“I will come back to you as an Ethereal, Auntie.”

 

Evangeline smirked, her pink eyes burning with the determination to do this rather than run away with her tail between her legs.

 

“Yes, I hope this won’t be the last time we meet.”

 

It was the least she could do for her niece, whom she hadn’t seen in three years.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Leaving the mansion and getting into the carriage, Artia crossed her arms and looked impatient.

 

‘Ethereal…’

 

Artia hadn’t been socializing so much that she had little information in her head.

 

But it didn’t matter.

 

She has a friend who knows the social scene better than anyone.

 

 

“Welcome, Artia!”

 

Penelope greeted Artia with open arms.

 

“I’m sorry to have to drop by unannounced.”

 

“Tsk. I’ve always invited you to come to my house like it’s your own, and I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Artia’s white cheeks flushed red at the gesture of pure affection.

 

After the somewhat tumultuous greeting, Penelope led Artia into the parlor.

 

“So, what brings you here?”

 

Penelope’s suspicions that there was a reason for Artia’s unannounced visit proved correct.

 

“Actually…”

 

Artia began to tell Penelope about her day. Penelope listened intently and spit out her tea.

 

“Ethereal?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I think it would be easier if you didn’t come home for so long that I wouldn’t recognize you if I walked by and saw you, so that your husband doesn’t cheat on you anymore.”

 

Penelope added with a pitying look.

 

“I’m not saying you’re not good enough!”

 

Artia laughed, not at all offended. 

 

“I know. It’s just that being an Ethereal is hard.”

 

You had to be of noble birth, grace, and beauty, and you had to be in good standing with the ladies of society.

 

Add to that the fact that only one woman could be chosen from among so many aspiring Ethereals, and the odds were almost miraculous.

 

“But I’m going to try, because miracles only happen to those who try.”

 

Penelope looked impressed by Artia’s words and gave her a thumbs up.

 

“But I don’t know anything about socializing.”

 

Penelope’s eyes twinkled like a cat spotted a fish. “That’s my specialty.”

 

Penelope began to recount the latest social scene with excitement.

 

“As far as I can tell, these three are the ones who run the show right now: Marigold von Golgus, Dahlia von Gregg, and Freesia von Elysium.”

 

Even Artia, who was not a socialite, was familiar with the names.

 

Young, beautiful ladies who had been leading the capital’s social scene for years, they were known as the Flower Ladies because they all had flowers in their names.

 

“The scary thing is that these three are not rivals, but allies.”

 

“Allies?”

 

“Yep. Three years ago, Freesia became an Ethereal, followed by Marigold the year after, and then Dahlia. It’s no coincidence that three of their closest friends became Ethereals at one time or another. They took turns pushing each other.”

 

The synergy of having women with such a large presence in the social scene joining forces has been tremendous.

 

“The Flower Ladies have been organizing a lot of gatherings this year, with Freesia as the centerpiece. I think she’s going for the second Ethereal.”

 

Artia, who had been listening quietly, looked at Penelope and asked.

 

“And Pepe?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Penelope tilted her head, and Artia continued.

 

“Have you ever thought about becoming an Ethereal?”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, Pepe has a lot of friends, you’re good with people, you talk funny, you have a good personality, you’re pretty, you look good…”

 

Penelope blushed at the endless stream of compliments.

 

‘What was she talking about, a joke or just telling her friend something nice to hear?’

 

But Artia’s pink eyes were as serious as ever.

 

Finally, Penelope turned red and shouted.

 

“Okay, stop…!”

 

“……?”

 

“I like me a lot, but I know I’m not good enough to be an Ethereal!”

 

Artia said innocently, even though she knew she was being overly flattered.

 

“Great, great.”

 

‘Artia, you demanding friend!’

 

Penelope couldn’t help herself and hugged Artia tightly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Artia stood by the window, gazing at the white moon and muttering.

 

“The banquet to select the Ethereals will be held in six months…”

 

Until then, she needs to make a big impact on the social scene.

 

The best way to do that is to attend social parties.

 

But Artia’s experience with social parties was limited, as she found it difficult to meet people.

 

“I’ve been dragged by my father or Lloyd a few times,” she says.

 

But the women’s reactions to Artia’s inability to make eye contact and babble were chilling.

 

For a woman who is supposed to be the Duchess of Edenberg, she is so flaky.

 

Sneers, scorn, pity.

 

The glittering ballroom was hell for Artia.

 

But not anymore.

 

Artia was going to strut across the ballroom like a hare across a field. There was just one problem.

 

“I have no place to go!”

 

The invitations that had come out of curiosity about the divorced Artia were few and far between, and most of the ones that had come so far were from families hoping to remarry her.

 

After much deliberation, Artia made a decision.

 

“A tea party at the palace in three days. I’ll be there.”

 

Unlike the noblemen’s banquets, where friendships were prioritized, invitations to the imperial tea party were sent out en masse to nobles from families of some standing.

 

“With so many noblewomen in attendance, it’s the perfect opportunity to reenter the social scene.”

 

Artia’s pink eyes shone brightly like freshly blooming cherry blossoms.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The palace was bustling with preparations for the tea party in a few days.

 

Naturally, Killian hadn’t paid any attention.

 

Until he heard Nocturne say.

 

“Artia von Edenberg is attending the tea party?”

 

“Yes, I saw her name on the guest list.”

 

Naturally, Nocturne didn’t normally pay attention to women at tea parties.

 

Still, it was instinct to check the list.

 

Instinct that Artia was going to attend the tea party, and that Killian was going to start barking bullshit about why he hadn’t reported it beforehand.

 

After decades of serving the Mad King, his instincts were excellent this time.

 

Killian’s golden eyes, which had been so dark just moments ago, now shone with a clear light.

 

“You didn’t react that badly when I reported classified information on the battlefield.”

 

Nocturne clicked his tongue and followed Killian.

 

Killian’s long legs carried him to a ballroom where preparations for a tea party were in full swing.

 

The maids looked surprised at the prince’s sudden appearance, then quickly bowed their heads deeply.

 

No eye contact. If they dared, they might be killed by His Highness, a vicious misogynist.

 

Meanwhile, a fair-haired maid stepped forward and bowed to Killian.

 

“Greetings to the blood of the almighty Orpheus.”

 

Killian bowed according to imperial court protocol, but his face was filled with confusion.

 

She couldn’t fathom why the mad king had come all the way here.

 

The maid’s voice was low enough to send a chill down her spine.

 

“I came to see if the banquet is ready.”

 

“……?”

 

She heard it with her own ears, but she couldn’t make sense of it, which is why it was so strange.

 

‘Why would the king care about preparing a banquet, a tea party for women only?’

 

Killian, who had no idea what the maid was thinking, glanced around the ballroom and said, “I want the flowers for the banquet to be pink, the color of strawberries mixed with white milk.”

 

“……?”

 

“And all the desserts are to be made with carrots.”

 

“……??”