The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 74

‘Let’s keep them out of reach.’

 

Extreme misogyny. She carefully tidied her cravat, trying to remember the words she was increasingly forgetting.

 

When he was close enough to breathe, he smelled unexpectedly clean and soapy.

 

For the first time that day, she realized that scent could tickle the heart.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Since then, Killian has changed into four different outfits (all recommended by Artia).

 

Each time he came out in a new outfit, Artia looked at him in fascination.

 

Finally, Artia pulled herself together and thought.

 

‘He could just sit and watch, but he’s so brave to keep going, even though it must be hard for him to change. He must really like clothes.’

 

Artia was wrong.

 

Killian hated the effort.

 

He didn’t even bother to take measurements, so Nocturne had to make his clothes for him.

 

It was only because of Artia that he put on a show like a clown.

 

The moment he saw those cherry-pink eyes filled with nothing but himself, he felt a rush of pleasure, his heart pounding and a sweet heat rising.

 

If he could hold her gaze, he could do this damn thing for the rest of his life.

 

“Your Majesty, Frau Edenberg might be embarrassed, so why don’t we wrap this up?”

 

He would have if not for Nocturne’s words.

 

Killian knew.

 

That Artia’s company with him was not out of favor or goodwill, but simply out of respect for the prince.

 

For Killian, the time had flown, but for Artia, it would be a time of toil that she hoped would end as soon as possible.

 

Suddenly he regretted the gap.

 

But Killian didn’t know how to close the gap. All he could do was…

 

“Okay, that’s it.”

 

He said the words he didn’t want to say and let Artia out of this place.

 

He had no idea.

 

‘Too bad, I wanted to see more.’

 

He realized that Artia had thought the same.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After that, Artia walked down Diamond Street three more times.

 

On her fourth trip, she finally bumped into Marigold of Golgus, one of the Flower Ladies.

 

But contrary to her plan, she couldn’t bring herself to approach her and say hello.

 

Marigold was in the middle of an unusually intense confrontation with a girl who looked to be about ten years old.

 

Artia immediately noticed that the girl did not resemble Marigold at all.

 

“Cecilia of Golgus.”

 

The daughter of Marigold’s husband, Count Golgus’ ex-wife.

 

Marigold held out a dress to Cecilia, complete with a tiny bow.

 

“It’s from one of the best designers working today. Try it on, Cecil.”

 

But despite the friendliness in her voice, Cecil frowned.

 

“I don’t want it.”

 

“Then how about this dress?”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

“This dress is…”

 

Cecilia blurted out.

 

“I don’t like it!”

 

At the sound of her voice, everyone in the store turned to look at Marigold and Cecilia.

 

Under the stares, Marigold blushed and smiled awkwardly and said apologetically.

 

“My daughter seems to be in a bad mood. We’ll pick out a dress another time, but for now, let’s go home.”

 

But Cecilia, who was still sulking, refused to comply.

 

“I don’t want to go with you, so call papa, and I’ll go when he comes.”

 

Marigold, who had been smiling the whole time, raised an eyebrow.

 

“How can your daddy come here when he’s at work?”

 

“He comes when I call him, so go ahead and call him.”

 

Cecilia said stubbornly and crossed her arms. It was clear she wasn’t going to go home quietly.

 

Marigold looked at Cecilia with a puzzled expression and sighed.

 

She called for a servant and ordered something. A few minutes later, Count Golgus appeared in the shop.

 

Marigold, who had been arguing with Cecil, greeted him with relief.

 

“My dear!”

 

But Count Golgus brushed past Marigold and approached Cecilia.

 

“Cecil.”

 

“Daddy!”

 

Cecilia swept into Count Golgus’s arms.

 

It was an affectionate father-daughter reunion, as if they hadn’t seen each other in ten years.

 

Marigold, who had been watching the scene in disbelief from a few feet away, composed herself and approached them.

 

“My daughter must have missed you,” she said.

 

“Such a casual remark when she’s in this condition?”

 

Count Golgus’s harsh voice startled Marigold.

 

“What do you mean, in this state?”

 

“This is what happens to a docile child who obeys her elders when she goes out with you. What a way to treat a child.”

 

The smile disappeared from Marigold’s face.

 

It was always like that.

 

Cecilia was an angel in her father’s presence, but when it was just her, she turned into a devil. And yet, no matter how many times she tried to hold back her anger, the words always came back.

 

Marigold’s husband’s anger is so intense at this point that she can’t even think of anything to say back.

 

He was a fiery man, and when it came to his daughter, he was even more furious.

 

Finally, Marigold suppressed her growing anger and said, “Maybe I’m not reading Cecil’s mind well enough. I’ll try harder.”

 

The corners of Cecil’s mouth turned up wickedly in his father’s arms.

 

Count Golgus, who hadn’t seen it, said in an irritated voice.

 

“You’ve been Cecil’s mother for five years now, and it’s time you stopped showing me your efforts and started showing me results.”

 

“Yes…”

 

Cecil hugged her father, much to Count Golgus’ dismay.

 

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

 

“Now? Have you not eaten?”

 

“Not much, my mother made the maids prepare a lot of food that I don’t like…”

 

“Cecilia was constipated from eating only meat, so they served her a vegetable dish.”

 

But once again Count Golgus didn’t bother to listen to Marigold.

 

He let out a long sigh and took Cecil’s hand as if it had always happened.

 

“There’s a restaurant nearby that you like, so let’s go there.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Cecil smiled shyly and followed his father.

 

“Come with me.”

 

Left alone, Marigold hurried after them.

 

When all three were gone, Artia emerged from between the pillars, muttering in surprise.

 

“They say you have a hard time raising a daughter.”

 

Artia had met many women and learned many things about the social scene she hadn’t known before, including Marigold’s story.

 

It seemed that her relationship with her daughter was even worse than she’d been told. Marigold tried to hide it as best she could, but it seemed everyone already knew.

 

“Maybe I can use this…”

 

Her sunny pink eyes deepened as if she’d added color to them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometime later, Artia went to Diamond Street and saw Marigold and Cecil again.

 

It was like a copy and paste of what happened last time.

 

“I think this ruby headdress would look really good on my daughter. Let’s try it on.”

 

Marigold approached Cecil with an awkward smile, but this time Cecil laughed and shook his head.

 

“No.”

 

“Come on, just once…”

 

“I said no!”

 

Cecil swung her tiny hand with all her might and struck Marigold’s hand. The headdress she was holding grazed Marigold’s hand and fell off, leaving a red bruise.

 

There was silence between them for a moment.

 

Before Marigold could open her mouth to speak, Cecil let out a muffled cry.

 

Artia, watching from a distance, was stunned.

 

She’s not crying, she’s just making noise.

 

It was a fake scream, no matter who came.

 

Nevertheless, the maids rushed over from a distance and surrounded Cecil.

 

“Don’t cry, miss.”

 

The oldest of the maids picked Cecil up and patted her on the back.

 

She was from Count Golgus’s household and had been Cecil’s nanny since she was born, as well as Count Golgus’s.

 

She had been close to the late Countess of Golgus and had never liked Marigold.

 

“So if she says no, why don’t you just leave her alone, why are you so insistent…”

 

Normally, she wouldn’t have dared to let her nanny or maids look at her like that. But with Cecil involved, Marigold was helpless.

 

With her nanny and maids making horses, Marigold became the world’s worst stepmother.

 

It was better to clean up the mess as quickly as possible than to let it get out of hand and have the wrath of Count Golgus turn to fire.

 

The method was the same as always.

 

Apologize to Cecil.

 

Cecil would not even pretend to hear her, but somehow, she had to show that she was trying to comfort the crying child.

 

Marigold was about to open her mouth when her face contorted.

 

“Mrs. Golgus, are you okay?!”

 

Marigold’s eyes widened.

 

It was Artia, the woman who had appeared when no one else had thought to intervene.