The Search for the Duchess’s Husband

Artia’s voice tightened.

 “Yes, I’ve changed, because the thick beanstalks covering my eyes have completely fallen off.” 

She got right to the point.

 “So, I beg you, Your Majesty. Please help me get a divorce.” 

Finally!

 

Her heart was pounding as if it would explode.

 

She had no idea how Prince Killian would react.

 

After a long pause, he asked

“Why would I do that?” 

She wondered if she was wrong.

 

He still sounded cold, but he didn’t seem offended.

 

Best of all, he wasn’t waving his sword at her, as if she had come to him to talk such nonsense.

 

Artia opened her mouth, feeling a glimmer of hope.

 “I don’t think His Majesty’s scathing criticism of Lloyd was simply because he was a poor man. I think it was because he was displeased that someone so lacking could become the Duke of Edenberg, one of the most venerable houses in the Empire.” 

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have looked at Lloyd like a bug.

 

He doesn’t even look at people he doesn’t care about.

 

Prince Killian despised the incompetent.

 

The higher the rank, the more he despised them.

 

That was what Artia wanted.

 “The next Duke of Edenberg will be a man of your choice.” 

Though the power of the house had waned under the succession of incompetent family heads, the name Edenberg was still a noble and honorable one.

 

A promise to put whomever you wanted in that seat.

 

A tempting offer for the next Emperor, Artia prayed fervently.

 “So, you are getting married with my permission?” “Yes.” “And if I say I don’t like the man you choose?” “I will not marry.” 

It was a risky request, and Artia was desperate for a divorce.

 

A snort.

 

Artia’s pink eyes narrowed at the low, fleeting laugh.

 

‘Did the king just laugh? No, I must have misheard.’

 

It couldn’t be the mad king who goes into a frenzy at the sight of a woman.

 

A deep voice spoke into Artia’s confused ear.

 “Look up, Artia von Edenberg.” “…….” “I don’t deny that I’m a misogynist, but I’ve never seen you lunge at me to the point of ripping my eyeballs out if I made eye contact with you.”

Kilian said, turning to Artia, who didn’t move.

 

Artia raised her head cautiously, hoping his words were true, and when she saw Prince Killian’s face, she let out a small gasp.

  

***

  

They had met many times as prince and princess, but Artia had never really seen Killian’s face.

 

She was too afraid.

 

For the first time up close, Killian’s face was truly…

 

‘Is he human?’

 

His hair was as black as the night sky, and his eyes were piercing gold, untainted by a single speck of dirt. 

 

The intense contrast of color against his delicate frame made him look as perfect as a work of art painstakingly crafted by the gods.

 

But Artia couldn’t help but admire the unreal beauty. His golden eyes glowed with a ferocity that threatened to tear her apart at any moment.

 

Artia kept her head still, resisting the urge to look down again.

 

Killian looked at her, then spoke.

“I can help you.” “…!” “But my involvement only extends to ensuring that the Imperial Court formally accepts your divorce petition, for it is only up to my father’s will to grant it.” “I know that, and that’s enough.”

Artia replied in a trembling voice, lifting the hem of her skirt.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Killian said nothing, as if the greeting was heartfelt.

 

As the silence grew longer, Artia grew uneasy again.

 

‘Why doesn’t he say anything? On second thought, does he regret accepting my offer, or is he just annoyed at my expression and pushing the madness button?’

 

Just to be sure, she glanced at the sword at Prince K

illian’s waist.

 

Killian opened his mouth.

“Nocturne.” 

Nocturne, who had somehow been waiting outside, entered.

“Yes?” “Bring me the Asiatica ointment.” “Yes.” 

Nocturne returned so quickly you’d think he’d teleported, and held out a round vial to Artia.

 “It’s an elixir used only by the imperial family. It’s very good for healing wounds.” “…” 

‘Why is he giving me this precious me

dicine…?’

 

Killian said with an arrogant look at Artia, who raised her eyebrows in confusion.

 “I hate women.” 

‘I know.’

 “I hate women who cry even more.” 

‘I didn’t know that.’

 “I hate women who hurt the most.” “…….” “Well, Artia, you don’t have to wear a scar for us to know that the Duke of Edenberg is a fucking son of a bitch for touching his wife.” 

Suddenly Artia remembered the scars on her face.

 

She had completely forgotten that she had come without proper medical care, hoping that Killian would feel some sort of compassion.

  

***

  “I didn’t think His Highness would mind at all…” 

Of course, his emotion isn’t pity.

 

He’s probably just annoyed that a woman he doesn’t like has a disfiguring wound.

 

Still, the corner of Artia’s mouth twitched upward as she thanked him for taking care of her wounds and giving her medicine.

 “Thank you. I’ll make good use of it.” 

Artia smiled faintly, one cheek swollen red, and Killian thought to himself.

 

‘It irritates me when I see a woman smile…’

 

For some reason, he never felt that way about her.

 

Not now, not ever.

 

A trace of displeasure remained on Killian’s beautiful face.

 

Seeing it, Artia’s shoulders hunched even more anxiously.

 

The furrow between Killian’s eyebrows widened at the sight, bu

t fortunately he didn’t hold her back any longer.

 “Go.” 

The words were too harsh for a nobleman, even a prince, to say to a noblewoman, but Artia’s expression relaxed as if she’d heard the words she’d been waiting for.

 “Yes, I will take my leave, and until we meet again, stay strong.” 

With a polite bow, Artia quickly left the room.

 “You’re like a rabbit in a tiger’s den, scurrying in and out of the room in a flash.” 

Turning to Killian, who narrowed his eyes, Nocturne asked cautiously.

“What were you talking about?” 

It wasn’t his nature to ask such questions, but he couldn’t help himself.

 

The Duchess’s visit to Killian and Killian’s acceptance of the Duchess’s request for an audience were two strange things that made little sense.

 

Leaning back in his chair, Killian replied.

“Artia von Edenberg wants a divorce.” 

Nocturne’s eyes doubled in size at the grave tone of the voice.

 

The Duchess wants a divorce!

 

The words were more shocking than

“the stern emperor’s stitch”

or

“the graceful empress’s blasphemy”.

 

But Killian, who actually uttered the words, did not seem surprised.

 

Rather…

 “Your Majesty, are you amused?” “A little.” “…….” “I find it amusing that Artia von Edenberg, who is always staring at the floor, is getting a divorce.” “…” 

It’s interesting, Nocturne admitted. But he couldn’t help nodding.

 

It was Killian who spoke.

 

Ever since he was a child, Killian had been terribly uninterested in other people.

 

Even when he saw a wounded and bloodied Nocturne on the battlefield, instead of asking if he was all right, he asked,

“Are you ready for a bath?”

 

Nocturne’s uncharacteristic response sent a shiver down his spine.

 

 

* * *

 

“Things went surprisingly well.” 

When Artia entered the mansion, she was greeted by a pair of cockroaches.

 

At the sight of Artia, Lyrica sobbed and crawled into Lloyd’s arms.

 “I’m scared, Duke. What if she locks Riri in her room again?” “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my baby bird. You have me now.” 

Every time she saw her like that, tears of sadness filled Artia’s eyes.

 

But now she had only one emotion.

 *Blargh!* Visit my Ko-fi for advance chapter discounts!!