The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 83

The child opened his mouth with a distorted face.

 

“Will you let me go if I return the documents?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“And you won’t punish me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Artia’s pink eyes were clear as she nodded. It seemed as if she couldn’t possibly lie.

 

In the end, he told her everything.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dahlia sat in the corner of the publishing house.

 

Her legs trembled as she chewed her thumbnails, the graceful, upright posture she’d been rigorously taught since childhood long gone.

 

Her manuscript, which, unlike her purse and money, was of no particular use to her, had most likely been thrown away or discarded.

 

Dahlia screamed as she imagined a stack of papers in a burning pyre.

 

“No!”

 

To others, it might seem like the ramblings of an old lady with too much time on her hands. But to Dahlia, this manuscript was hers, written with her very soul. Nothing like…

 

“Please…”

 

Dahlia prayed, clasping her hands together with a pleading face.

 

Then, with a bang, the door burst open, and Artia appeared, screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

“I found the manuscript!”

 

“……!”

 

Dahlia jumped to her feet and ran to Artia, taking the wad of paper from her.

 

With trembling hands, Dahlia flipped through each page. Her black eyes filled with tears.

 

“Oh yes, my novel…”

 

It was a little creased, but no pages were torn or missing.

 

With the manuscript safely in her arms, Dahlia relaxed and burst into childlike sobs.

 

Artia patted her gently on the back.

 

Only when she stopped crying did she look at Artia.

 

Her cheeks were flushed, and her silver hair was damp with sweat.

 

“How long have you been running around…?”

 

“Luckily the boy who stole your bag kept the paper instead of throwing it away, and the quality of the paper is so good that I’m sure he’ll have something to use it for later, thank goodness.” Artia said to Dahlia, who lowered her eyebrows.

 

‘You were right, Marigold.’ Dahlia thought as she looked at Artia’s smiling face.

 

Artia von Edenberg responded to other people’s work as if it were her own, and she looked… beautiful.

 

Dahlia stared at Artia, mesmerized, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. The door swung open and Dan, the publisher and only employee, appeared.

 

“I can’t believe you found the manuscript!”

 

Dan, who had been roaming the alleys like a crazed gorilla after being called by Vivi, took one look at the manuscript in Dahlia’s hands and burst into hot tears like a gorilla who had found his cub.

 

“Uh-huh-huh-huh. You found it!”

 

Seeing Dan’s excitement, Dahlia’s tears began to flow again.

 

Artia, watching the scene with delight, whispered to Dahlia.

 

“Now that we’ve found the manuscript, I think I’ll leave you to it.”

 

“But…”

 

“You have a lot of work to do, don’t worry about me.”

 

Dahlia nodded, a complicated look on her face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Holding the manuscript in his arms like a newborn baby, Dan said, “I will guard it as dearly as my own life, if not more, and see it through to publication. Thank you for trusting me with it again, Ms. Author.”

 

After finalizing the publishing deal with Dan, Dahlia returned to the manor.

 

Her Count Gregg greeted her with a rather unpleasant expression.

 

“The maid told me who came first. She said you were looking for something you had lost.”

 

Instead of asking if she had found it, he said something else.

 

“It is not good for a lady to wander the streets at this hour, claiming to be looking for an object. Next time it happens, tell your servant to find it and come home.”

 

Dahlia had never been affectionate with her husband, but she had always been a stickler for conjugal decorum. But today she didn’t feel like it.

 

Bleeeh—!

 

Dahlia stuck out her tongue.

 

“What did I just see?”

 

Count Gregg, who had never been mocked in his life, looked puzzled, unsure of what his wife’s grotesque face meant.

 

Regardless, Dahlia pushed past her broken husband and headed for her room.

 

Plopping down on the bed, she kicked off her shoes.

 

Her toes were red and swollen from walking and running all day.

 

“You might not have this at home, so take it. It’s really good for swollen feet.”

 

Dahlia remembered Artia’s words and took the medicine she had given her.

 

“How can you be so attentive to others…”

 

Caring so much for others wasn’t something she could do with her head.

 

She must really care.

 

Dahlia muttered as she rubbed the medicine into her toe.

 

“You’re too good to be true, my fan.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Dahlia came to visit Artia.

 

Since they’d parted ways yesterday, Artia naturally greeted her.

 

“Welcome, Mrs. Gregg. Did you rest well yesterday?”

 

‘There she goes again, worrying about me. Good girl.’

 

Dahlia lowered her eyes.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Edenberg.”

 

“I slept well too. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this active, and sleep came easily.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that.”

 

It was Artia who broke the silence.

 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask you about yesterday, but about the boy who stole your bag. What are you going to do about that?”

 

“What about it?”

 

“Because I told the boy that I wouldn’t punish him if he obeyed me and brought me the manuscript.”

 

It was a lie, told without a trace of saliva on her lips. Artia didn’t have the authority to do that. But…

 

“It was definitely wrong to steal things, but he’s only a child, so why not give him a chance to reflect instead of punishing him too harshly?”

 

Artia looked at Dahlia nervously, because she was somehow defending the child.

 

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she thought angrily, ‘you’re defending a criminal who just did something terrible to me.’

 

Despite her concern, Dahlia remained calm.

 

“How? You’re not suggesting we pretend it never happened, are you?”

 

“Of course not. You can’t teach a child anything like that. Actually, I have an idea.”

 

Artia whispered to Dahlia; her face filled with memory. After a moment, Dahlia nodded in agreement.

 

“Sounds good, I’ll go with that.”

 

“Thank you for accepting my offer.”

 

Dahlia looked at Artia, who smiled.

 

“So that’s it?”

 

“What?”

 

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

 

Dahlia had gotten a lot of help from Artia yesterday.

 

It was all she could do. Artia must have realized that Dahlia was a Redlip when she picked up the manuscript.

 

But Artia hadn’t said anything.

 

It was as if she had forgotten all about yesterday.

 

Of course, no such nonsense had happened.

 

The memory of yesterday was still fresh in Artia’s mind, and she wanted to shout, “Ms. Redlip, I’m a fan!”

 

But she stopped herself.

 

She knew that Dahlia wanted to keep everything a secret.

 

Artia said with a straight face.

 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Gregg. The events of yesterday have been erased from my mind. I won’t tell anyone.”

 

To think that she would help someone else and expect nothing in return but to forget about it…

 

Dahlia stared at Artia with a look that said, “What kind of creature is this?” before she spoke.

 

“You’re right, I don’t want to share my secrets with anyone, so I’ll accept your favor and say no more about what happened yesterday.”

 

But that didn’t mean she’d pretend it hadn’t happened.

 

“So let me greet you properly here and now.”

 

Dahlia clasped her hands and bowed her head.

 

“Thank you, Artia von Edenberg. Your help has turned what could have been the most hopeless day for me into one of dramatic joy, and I swear I will repay your favor in the best way I can.”

 

Dahlia kept her word.

 

A few days later, a book arrived at Artia’s door. When Artia saw it, she let out a little cry and covered her mouth.

 

 

“The Noble Prince is Her Lackey.”

 

 

It was a hot new book by Redlip. It hadn’t even hit the bookstores yet!