The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 71

Baron Schreck remembered the words, and he had meant them.

 

He’d thought this was the way to have fun as a married couple, to fulfill the bare minimum of obligations, to have their own lovers, to be free to flirt.

 

But now that Clara was seeing another man, a creepy, cheating bastard named Edward, he was furious.

 

He couldn’t calm down and stayed up all night.

 

Clara sighed as she watched her husband bite his lip as if he had been unexpectedly attacked.

 

“Honey, you can go ahead and have fun with all the girls you want, just like you’ve been doing, because I’m going to do the same.”

 

“What?!”

 

Baron Schreck felt a bolt of lightning strike his head. Then Clara snatched the envelope out of Baron Schreck’s hand.

 

“And don’t you dare touch my things in the future.”

 

She whirled around and added, “You have no right to do that to your wife.”

 

Her long, flowing hair smelled of rich perfume.

 

Baron Schreck lost his senses for a moment, like a honeybee dazed by sweet honey.

 

 When he came to, Clara was gone.

 

Baron Schreck muttered to himself as he looked at his wife’s closed door.

 

“If I find you, I’ll kill you, Edward von Horae.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clara chuckled.

 

“Since that day, my husband never goes out and follows me around, and whenever he sees a decent man, he gives him the evil eye and asks, ‘Are you an Edwardian? Are you some kind of Edwardian bastard obsessed with other people’s wives?”

 

Artia, sitting across from me, let out a soft laugh.

 

“Baron Schreck’s anger is well and truly piqued.”

 

“Yes, he’s quite the snowflake.”

 

Artia lowered her eyebrows.

 

“Somehow, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find Edward who sent the letter…”

 

There never was a man named Edward. It was Artia who sent the letter to Clara under the name of Edward.

 

Everything happened according to Artia’s plan.

 

“Go out every day. It doesn’t matter if you go shopping or meet people, the important thing is that you get dressed up and go out with a big smile on your face”.

 

“I will send you a letter under a man’s name, something sweet as honey, like a love letter.”

 

Clara’s round eyes twinkled.

 

“I can’t tell you how surprised I was when I got the letter, I thought it was made up, but my face was burning. How could you write such an amazing letter?”

 

“Actually, I wrote it with lines from a novel I read.”

 

The result was a deadly love letter that could lead to murder if the recipient wasn’t careful.

 

“Baron Schreck must have imagined all sorts of things when he saw that letter.”

 

When he imagined Clara’s hand being kissed by the most sensitive and handsome man he could imagine, there was no man in the world who could have been unconcerned.

 

“Most men are carefree when it’s in their hands, but they go crazy when someone else takes it away.”

 

Clara folded her hands and looked impressed.

 

“How do you know so much about men?”

 

“Because I’ve read thousands of romance novels over the years. I’m something of a boudoir expert.”

 

“A boudoir expert…”

 

Clara’s eyes lit up even more as she repeated the word she’d never heard before.

 

“Cool!”

 

Artia smiled shyly at Clara’s sincere praise for her inadequate vocabulary.

 

But the joy was short-lived, and Artia’s expression turned sour.

 

Though stirred by the name of Edward, the Baron’s feelings were more childish male exclusivity than love.

 

One day, when time had passed and his jealousy had dulled, he would seek another woman.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

 

Clara smiled at Artia’s cautious question.

 

“I’ve never received such intense attention from my husband before, and do you know what it made me think?”

 

“……?”

 

“Ah, so this is all I ever wanted from my husband’s affection.”

 

There was no frantic heartbeat, no hot tears, just a lump in my throat.

 

“I didn’t love him that much either. I tried to love him.” Clara went on, her voice bright. “If he continues to pay attention to me like this, I’ll try again, but if he stops paying attention to me, I’ll stop trying in vain.”

 

Artia smiled as she looked into Clara’s eyes, which were devoid of any trace of regret.

 

“That’s a nice choice.”

 

Yes, it wasn’t giving up, it was a choice.

 

To be happier.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The nobles were shocked to learn that Baron Schreck, a rumored philanderer, had stopped playing with women and was only pursuing his wife.

 

The astonished woman turned to Clara and asked, “What method did you use?”

 

Clara answered honestly. “I consulted Mrs. Edenberg, who listened to my story as carefully as if it were her own and gave me wise advice.”

 

Clara’s voice was full of boundless confidence in Artia.

 

It wasn’t long before other women began asking for a private meeting with Artia.

 

Each of them shared the same concern about their husbands as Clara.

 

“My husband disrespects me every time he speaks to me. He says my pronunciation is bad, that I haven’t learned proper manners, that I’m no better than a maid, and it’s so painful.”

 

“My husband never comes home, and when he does, he stays in his room. How can this be called a marriage, even if it’s an arranged marriage?”

 

Others revealed some rather shocking details.

 

“My husband has a boyfriend, and he’s a man, and he’s over six feet tall and has rock-hard muscles. I don’t even know where to start, and it’s driving me crazy.”

 

The seemingly perfect couple had a million problems.

 

Artia wasn’t surprised and wondered how it happened. She didn’t ask how it happened.

 

She just said, “It must be hard,” and listened quietly as the women told their stories.

 

As they spoke, Artia quietly offered her handkerchief to the woman in front of her, who had tears in her eyes from the emotion of the story.

 

There was no smug superiority in Artia’s eyes, no false sympathy that comes with knowing someone’s condition.

 

There was only genuine concern.

 

The woman looked at Artia with tearful eyes, then said, “Hmph!” and burst into childlike sobs.

 

After a while, the woman stopped crying and said with red, puffy eyes.

 

“By the way, Mrs. Edenberg, I want to scratch my damn husband’s guts, and Clara told me how to do it with a nudge. Do you think I could get ‘that letter’?”

 

Artia thought for a moment, then nodded.

 

If she could help with a letter, it wouldn’t be too much to ask.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The ballroom of the Imperial Palace. 

 

Killian brandished a sword, his upper body bare.

 

His face was flawlessly beautiful, like that of a perfectly groomed nobleman, but his body underneath was as ferocious as a beast of war.

 

‘I am always afraid of him, every time I see him.’

 

Nocturne swallowed hard and reported the information that had come in overnight. From the flirtatious social scene to the grim political scene.

 

He was a walking newspaper.

 

“By the way, I have some interesting news. Recently, a man named Edward has been sending out eloquent letters that have stirred the hearts of noblewomen. So much so that the men are vowing to get rid of every Edward in the realm.”

 

Killian’s eyes were cold, in contrast to Nocturne’s face, which was full of interest.

 

“Don’t give me a useless report.”

 

Killian said to Nocturne, who was quicker than the speed of light to admit his mistake and recite other information.

 

“Any word on Artia von Edenberg?”