The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 69

Marigold’s words were bitter, but true. Dahlia didn’t deny it.

 

“I agree,” she said, “but you don’t have to be an Ethereal to dream of becoming one.”

 

Any noblewoman could aspire to be an Ethereal.

 

A daughter of a fallen family, a foreigner, an old woman with gray hair. A divorced woman was no different.

 

As they listened in silence, Freesia lowered her feathery eyelashes and murmured in a very low voice.

 

“No, this year’s Ethereal should be me.”

 

Marigold didn’t hear the words, but she saw the serious look on Freesia’s face and spoke comfortingly.

 

“Don’t worry, Freesia, you have me and Dahlia by your side, and together we can do anything we set our minds to.”

 

A small smile appeared on her beautiful face.

 

* * *

 

 

An anecdote about Freesia’s confrontation with Artia at a tea party in the Imperial Palace spread quickly.

 

What could have been a minor conflict between the two women escalated over the topic of divorce.

 

“Mrs. Elysium is right, divorce is nothing to be proud of; it’s something to be ashamed of.”

 

“Oh my God, Mrs. Edenberg, you say that knowing what kind of person your ex-husband is, how can you live with someone like that?”

 

“Even if he is a murderer, you have to stay together for life if you are married!”

 

The noblewomen argued fiercely.

 

Noble society was conservative, and Freesia’s popularity was overwhelming, so in the end, far more people agreed with her.

 

This, combined with the disapproval of the Flower Ladies, meant that few women wanted to get close to Artia.

 

Artia asked, “Is there an invitation from the ladies?”

 

“Yes.”

 

There were only two invitations in Vivi’s hand.

 

“That’s a pitifully small number for a noblewoman who goes out a lot. And one of them was from Pepe.”

 

Knowing that Artia rarely received invitations, Penelope began sending her letters every day.

 

The envelope was opened, and the note read, in Penelope’s trademark militant handwriting

 

“Come over anytime! You’re my VIP guest.”

 

It’s nice to have a friend who supports her.

 

Artia smiled and opened the envelope to another invitation.

 

Clara von Schreck.

 

She had already sent Artia two invitations after meeting her at a tea party at the Imperial Palace.

 

“Another invitation. Clara must like me.”

 

And so did Artia.

 

Clara, with her round, sweet face and small, bean-shaped eyes, was a gentle, straightforward woman.

 

That’s the kind of person she is, and that’s why she sent me an invitation without Freesia’s knowledge.

 

Artia’s eyes widened as she smiled and read the letter.

 

“She wants to meet me alone?”

 

Until now, Clara’s tea parties had been for a group of people. When she invited just one person like this, it was only when they were close in private or had something to say in private.

 

What could that be?

 

“Does she want to know me better?”

 

Artia’s white cheeks flushed a peachy red.

 

Without hesitation, she replied that she would accept the invitation.

 

A few days later, Artya showed up at Clara’s house.

 

“I’m a good girl,” written all over her face, Clara greeted Artia with an innocent smile.

 

“Welcome. I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Thank you for having me.”

 

Artia smiled and held out a beautifully wrapped glass bottle. It was the small gift she always brought when she was invited.

 

“I brought you this because you had a cough when we met the other day. It’s a tea made of pears, ginger, and honey. Drink it in the morning and evening, it’ll help.”

 

Clara cradles the glass jar in her arms and looks delighted.

 

“I’ve been trying not to cough in front of people, how did you know?”

 

“Because you have a heart, Clara.”

 

The words were half-serious, half-joking, but Clara inhaled, looked even more impressed, and then frowned.

 

“Right… If you have a heart, you know it, right?”

 

Artia’s eyes widened and Clara smiled bitterly.

 

“My husband has no idea that I’ve had a bad throat for months, because he doesn’t care about me at all.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“Actually, the reason I asked to see you alone is because I wanted to talk to you about my husband, and you know about him, don’t you?”

 

Clara’s husband, Baron Schreck.

 

He was rumored in society to be a philanderer.

 

Looking at Artia, who responded with her eyes, Clara continued.

 

“My husband had a flamboyant affair with a woman before we were married.”

 

Nevertheless, Clara’s parents insisted that she marry him.

 

He had everything: the title of baron, his wealth, his age, his good looks.

 

 

They grabbed her and said, “Clara, what good man doesn’t have a wife or two, and it’s foolish to worry about it.”

 

“But…”

 

“And after all, when a man marries, he’s a woman’s man. If you’re good enough, he’ll change.”

 

Clara had no choice anyway. Clara nodded with a tearful face.

 

“He was kind enough to make my worries go away, and seeing him smile so sweetly gave me hope.”

 

‘If I try, he’ll change.’

 

Clara worked hard to be a loving spouse.

 

She got up early every morning, made sure she looked her best, and greeted her husband with a smile when he came home late at night. She kept the house meticulously clean and took care of his clothes and meals.

 

But…

 

“My husband hadn’t changed at all. He came home reeking of alcohol, even though we’d only been married a short time, and the collar of the shirt I’d smoothed for him was smeared with another woman’s red lipstick.”

 

Clara’s voice trembled.

 

“I let it go at first because I knew my husband wouldn’t change overnight, but seeing him not change at all, no matter how hard I tried, broke my heart.”

 

Turning to her husband, who arrived smelling of women’s perfume, Clara shouted, “Stop seeing other women!”

 

It was the first time in her life that she was angry with her husband.

 

But Baron Schreck was not angry. Nor did he pity her.

 

He just smiled at her smooth face and said, “My dear, your words are like telling a shark in the ocean to stop swimming.”

 

“What?”

 

“If it’s because you’re lonely, you should find another man, because I can understand that.”

 

 

“He’s full of shit.”

 

A sarcastic voice broke out from Artia, who had been listening in silence.

 

Seeing Clara’s surprised expression, Artia covered her mouth.

 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

 

It was a harsh thing to say to someone’s husband, but instead of getting angry, Clara smiled.

 

“No, it makes me feel better to hear you say that.”

 

“…….”

 

“I’ve confided in my family and close friends about my husband from time to time, and I’ve been told to suck it up because that’s what men do. I didn’t think you would do this to me, Artia.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you had a lousy husband, just like me, and now that I’m telling you, I can’t tell you how happy I was when I heard you were getting a divorce. I even put candles in the cake and clapped for you that day.”

 

Clara’s eyes sparkled.

 

“You’re a revolutionary to me, blazing a new trail!”

 

Artia was surprised.

 

‘I’ve had a few people speak positively about my divorce, but I’ve never had anyone react so enthusiastically.’

 

She didn’t want to be judged, but she was pleased.

 

Artia blushed slightly.

 

“I’m glad you think so highly of me, but by the way, Clara, do you want to leave your husband?”

 

Clara shook her head.

 

“No, I don’t have the courage to do that, and my husband is an impeccable man, except for the fact that he cheats on me.”

 

Everyone – even Clara’s parents – envied her for marrying a man she didn’t deserve.